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I PONDER…

painting-ponder
And if tonight…
…You see me doing a tortoise match with my words,
It is not because I am the tortoise’s match
It is because my soul is overwhelmed with thoughts of life…..
And so I ponder.

For if tonight…
…My soul should find her peace in sleep and sink in good oblivion
And in the morning wake like a new-opened flower…..
…Then I know that I have been dipped again in God…a new creature

And if as the weeks go by in the count of the moon my spirit darkens and brightens
And a soft strange silence pervades my movement and my thought and my words…so wise
Then I…
…Shall know that I am walking still…..with Guidance on my side.

And if as the seasons rises and falls
I feel the pain of falling leaves
And stems that break in storms and troubles and dissolution and distress…
And then the softness of deep shadows folding,
Folding…
…And folding around my soul and spirit…so weak

And if in the changing phases of man’s life
I fall sick and in misery and my wrist seem broken and my heart seems dead and strength is gone and my life is only a leavings of life…
Then I….
…Shall know that I have indeed lived to witness the divine truth…
Karma has been a faithful friend
Time…a trusted ally
The Grace of God…the ultimate gift of breath…
Then I shall sing praises unto high and smile
As I watch and count  my last breath tick tock me away  into eternal silence…….

 

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/poetry/

VIRGIN’S MONOLOGUE

virginity

Once upon a fairy phase in life
I lived  and breathed innocence
twas a perfect world…a free world
Filled with fantasies and fairy tales…
Then gradually…
…the fairy me began to slip away…

Until reality struck me unaware
And I gasped in surprise
Then my little breast begun to wake and a strange thought sent sweets down my spine…I smiled.
I begun to feel like a charged electron attracting the opposite
Then a quivering impulse sent shocks down my waist,
Across my abdomen…down, down, down…
A lower me then gets up and greet me.
He stands, and I tremble before him
“Who are you strange fellow?”
He is wordless but sultry and vast
And I can’t make him go
“What do you want from me you lustrous one?”
He is still silent and shapeless.
Oh how beautiful he is!
Without sound, without eyes, without hands;
Yet like a flame he burn through my body
Quiet, yet he alone understand the depth of my confusion
He stares and lightens up
And I trembled in his shadow…
…As he burns for the dark goal.
Is he calling?… I wonder
Is his deep silence full of summons?
Does his steep curve sweep towards a virgin?…

Oh you dark ruddy stranger, forgive me!
For I am helplessly bound to the rock of virginity
Your strange voice has no sound…no meaning to me
I would gladly lie in the womanly valley and ply thy twofold dance until meanings come to me”.

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/poetry/

FATWA

terrorism_has_no_religion-430x323-custom

Your Fatwa does not apply here…

I speak to you oh religious fundamentalist
This is a free world…
…A world of equality…
Speak to me of morality
But do not  force me into believing in the hereafter
Do not force me into accepting your religious views;
For I am a humanist
Humanity is my religion…
…The best of worship…

Your Fatwa does not apply here
Oh you enemies of humanity
Shall we sit and watch you minority pronounce yourselves as superior beings to all others?
Assume powers to decide the mode of existence of others?
Decide who shall live and who shall die?
Who shall shake hands with whom even as daily colleagues?
Who shall dictate and who shall submit?

No!…
Your Fatwa does not apply here
Your religious cloak is a tattered alibi…
After our apparent victory over racial injustice,
We shall not sit and watch terrorism take over
We shall not sit and watch religion being substituted as the only entitlement to residence on earth
No! we shall not…..
Let us join voices and tell them that
Their Fatwa does not apply here;
This is no Jihad
For they fight nothing if they fight the innocent
Only cowards turn deadly weapons against the unarmed
True warriors do not wage war against the innocent
Give me back my Islam…
Give me back my Islam…
My Islam which preaches peace, solidarity and humanity
Not the diabolism of Al-shabab, Boko haram or Al-Qaeda
Today, the blood of innocent lives are being shed
But let us assume we were in Nairobi and we survived Al-shabab
Let us assume we survived Boko Haram’s attack this morning
And let us know that we are targets as well
And finally realize that this is a declared war on humanity
And stand firm together on this battle field
For it is time to take back our peaceful Islam,
Our Africa,
And in effect…Our humanity
…Our right to live
Let us fight Terrorism
For their Fatwa does not apply here.

 

 

NB: Wrote this during the Westgate Mall attack in Kenya…. To the memory of Professor Awoonor and all victims of the attack.

LONG STORY

1878_Adams_Monumental_Illustrated_Panorama_of_History_-_Geographicus_-_WorldHistory-adams-1871

 

I yearn to tell of a story
But it’s a long story….
…Very long…
Like a tall storey of story stacked in history’s lorry loitering down a lane filled with mystery…
This story,
…Is such a long story
It is a story of the beginning and the word
And the words piled up to form this story
This story hold the answers to all your questions but this story confuses you the more it tries to answer you
This story…
…The story I yearn to tell…
Is such a long confusing story…
Like a web weaved of words called the World Wide Web
You can Google this story but Google would return with thousands of answers
Because this story is such a long story
It’s a story which intends to tell the truth but hides the truth
‘Cos part of this story is a false fable fabricated and agreed upon
This story doesn’t repeat itself but this story sometimes rhymes
And so you and I know and don’t know the truth of this story
This story,
I say…
…Is such a long winding story….
Like the stories of Ananse’s tactfully tainted tales
Like the printed pages of past parables of disciples scribbled in feeble fables and forced down the throats of innocent men..
This story, is a guide and a misguidance at the same time
This story has saved and destroyed men
This story keeps reminding us of the past
And this story promises answers for the future….
This story that I yearn to tell you….
…Is a very very long story…..

This story shall never end because….
This story is still being lived,
This story is still being told
And this story is still being written…
…Because this story is a combination of your story, her story, their story, my story and “HIS’STORY”
And so we call this story “HISTORY”
And “HISTORY” is such a long story……

 

 

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_writing_challenge/poetry/

WELCOME TO PREMMIE

Out of a mother’s womb into a place unknown
My time is not due but circumstances landed me on this desolate desert of hardship untold
With no mummy’s warmth to shield me from this cold
My little soul now lingers….I see no hope
I see no hope but to cope through this steep slope between life and death with no rope to hold on to hope…..
Until you come to my rescue
Until you come to my rescue, I am just another stranded little traveler on this strange land
This desert land that threatens to prevent my little soul from becoming that big soul it so wish to be

You see, I was traveling to this land called “NINE MONTHS”.
And “NINE MONTHS” could be likened to a travel to Italy.
So you plan to see the Colosseum, Venice, Michael Angelo’s David, the leaning tower of Pilsa and Davinci’s Last supper…..
So the time came and my dad took me to this sweet bushy airport and placed me in this plane called womb and we took off.
I was enjoying all the pampering throughout the journey until suddenly…
Suddenly the plane landed unexpectedly.
Then this flight attendant called doctor came to me and said…”WELCOME TO PREMMIE…the land of premature babies”
I said “WHAT?”
Then He said “due to technical difficulties, the flight can no longer continue to “NINE MONTHS”, we have to continue by road. But unless we get a strong fully furnished air-conditioned bus called an incubator, you are going to die here. This place is like the Lydian desert. No food and no water”

My little soul now lingers….I see no hope
I see no hope but to cope through this steep slope between life and death with no rope to hold on to hope…..
Until you come to my rescue
Until you come to my rescue I am just another little soul who could die due to lack of an incubator to help me reach my destination… Who would come to my rescue
Who would save my title big soul
Who would spend a dime to provide me with an incubator
Who would help me reach my destination
To be welcomed with those sweet lullaby
And to enjoy the warmth of a mothers love?
Until you come to my rescue,
I am just another little big soul who could die on this land called PREMMIE….

 

 

prevented-by-promising-protein_9

 

 

NB: Written for LittleBigSouls Ghana, an  NGO for the promotion of healthy premature birth.

http://www.littlebigsouls.com/

CARPE DIEM (Seize the Opportunity)

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Seize the opportunity

I say…

Seize the opportunity.

I hear…

This words ringing in my ears day and night,

Urging me to step up and take up my game up when it comes up my way up….

Seize the opportunity.

So I…

Set up traps to trap and tap into opportunities as they come my way in my daily actions

I seize the opportunity.

‘Cos a wise man once told me that

That lady called opportunity cums but once

So I…

Prepared to cum quick and once when I chance on one

And I plan to make the moment worthy

I seize the opportunity……

Then I ejaculate into her so she bares me fruit.

So seize the opportunity

I say…

Seize the opportunity.

Zoom on it like a lion even if the opportunity is garbage

Do not wait for the best of times

For the worst of times and the best of times

Are all called TIME….

So make every moment in time worthy

Seize the opportunity

Your name might not be STEVE but remember you can also create JOBS

So do not always knock on peoples GATE begging for BILLS for you can also build billions of BILLS and GATE them like BILL GATE seized that MICRO opportunity…

Seize the opportunity.

Be smart for life they say is too short like a midget

But as midget as life may be

We cannot wear her high heels so she looks tall…

Life would forever remain short

So please…

Do not tell me “better late than never”

For “never late is better”…

Seize the opportunity.

Shoot, even if nothing is targeted

Move, even if the path is undefined

Define and find that fine path

And find that fine treasure and nurture

For opportunities are like seeds

They shall eventually become the greatest oaks in the wild

SO SEIZE THE OPPORTUNITY……..

 

MY WEAKNESS

My way of love has always been my weakness.
So I vowed never to sing of it again.
For as long and loud as I have sang, no one seems to understand my version of this old desolate song.
Anytime I try singing, it only comes back as echoes to no one’s understanding but me.
“Maybe the gods never created my eve”, I will sometimes wonder.
Moments came when my voice would give up.
But deep in my prayers, an angel’s whisper urges me to keep singing.
On and on I kept this version playing.
Hoping to find someone to decipher this codes I transmit in keys and notes.
Someone to understand my apparent unintelligible verses. Someone to smile and dance to my tune of love……..
On this divine quest I sang on.
And lo!, from nowhere emerged this Empress.
With a complimentary lullaby that I realize gave meaning to my song.
Promising to lay my weakness to a blissful sleep.
With dreams filled with daylight drums of joy.
She immediately dissolved my weakness and became my strength……..
I quickly asked a duo of us
But my hopes lingered when she said the stars had aligned her lullaby with a different song.
She loves my song but unable to sing with me.
She also realized we are like Siamese and we’ll go platinum together.
But she feared offending the gods of the stars.
I have now become an innocent eternal prisoner to her love.
She is now my new weakness again.
For she killed my previous weakness and became my new weakness.
You see, Its not her beauty but her real self is the sting of love that keeps sinking deep into the soft tissue of my innocent heart each day that passes by.
I pray the gods daily to align the stars in my favor.
So she never doubt this aching of my heart.
Since nobody can bear to hear the burden of my song but her.
I will give thanks to the gods come that day.
For I will say I sang of my weakness and only this Empress could relate to it.
And changed my cacophonous song to sweet melody, Replaced my thunder with tinkling laughter
And Lightening to twinkling eyes……….
But until that day, she still remains my WEAKNESS.

BEFORE THE BLACK STAR SHINED

Before the black star shined and the lights left our shores
There were stories of how it came to pass out along the coast of gold
coast as we boast of our reach culture
Tradition ran it course
Until the lights
The lights our shores they raided
Reminding us of how mayflower moved in to deflower the virgin lands of
the red indians
They stole us and they used us
They used us for their selfish interest
Feeding on our ignorance like parasites…
And there are rumours
There are rumours
That the thoughts we are having aren’t even our own
And the dream you had last night is a future you remember
Or a past that is yet to come…
Before the black star shined and the lights left our shores
There were records recalling reports of how it happened across the
boarders in Europe
when our warriors left our shores to fight the two wars
As buried cold war nightmares shoke themselves awake
And a poison stew came to the boil
The walls of Belin and Hiroshima were not denied
As decades of testosterone fuelled war tore at the earth’s surface…
And there are rumours
There are rumours
That the future we dream for Africa is a neglected past reality
And the minority black are quickly becoming a fading product of oblivion
Or a threat to the human race…
Before the black star shined and the lights left our shores
There were tell-tales telling tales of how the black women told their
men they were tired of the missionaries position as leaders on their
own land
And a stray gunfire was heard across the boarders in Ashanti
As Asantewaa yaa led the coward men to battle and reclaim their land
And those men are now called the big six…
But there are rumours
There are rumours
That they are preventing the black star from shining
And that this piece is only a blueprint to a treasure unhidden
So before the black star stops shining and the lights return to our shores
Let’s sit closely by the fire side tonight
On our little patch of land
And reflect on how to make the black star shine again
Before the black star shines and the lights leave our shores…..

SAY NO

Say No, No, No!…

Say it, I mean it

Say it and don’t hesitate

No is next to the shortest word in the English language

It is the concentrated declaration of independence of the human soul

It is the central citadel of character and can remain impregnable forever

It is the only path to reformation

It is the steel guard of strength, the pyrometer of temperament, the electric indicator of moral pulse…

It is an automatic “safety first” device

Say it, I mean it

Say it and don’t hesitate

It has saved more women from losing their pride on several nights of Calvary

It has kept millions of young men from the peer pressures of drunkenness, promiscuity and passion

It is the lone guard of the castle of self respect

It is the dragon that guards beauty’s tower

It is the high fence that preserves the innocence of the

innocent

Say it, I mean it

Say it and don’t hesitate

It is the thick wall of the home… keeping the father from fallen, the mother from indiscretion, the boys from weed and

the girls from shame

It is the one word you can only say when you can’t think of

anything else

“NO”, is the new found power of the soul

Say it, I mean it

Say it and look your man in the eye

The woman who can say “NO”, carries her big breast ashore

Say it and don’t hesitate

A good round “NO”, is the most effective tool for breaking the limits of human weakness

In the great parliament of life, the “NO”s have it

They determine what should be and what should not

So say it, I mean it

Say it and don’t hesitate

Say it and look your demons in the eye…

Remember NO is change and change is NO

In the absence of “NO”s, nothing changes, nothing, nothing….

The status quo would remain unchallenged

The guinea worm would still burrow into marrows

Evil will still feed on apathy

Nothing would change, nothing, nothing at all….

Countless hails of “NO” ended slavery, colonialism and apartheid

Say it, I mean it

To be outstanding is determined by the number of “NO”s that primes

Nkrumah said it

Rosa parks said it

Mandela said it

Marcus Garvey said it

Great leaders said it and caused the wind of change to blow….

So say it!

The value of any year you alter is measured by the number of “NO”s that binds

Live your own life, make your own resolutions, mark-up your own program, aim at your own work, determine your own

contacts and plant all round “NO”s….an impregnable hedge of “NO”s with the single undisputable, untouchable syllable…”NO”!!!

Say “YES” only when it matters most

But the “No-man” I say progresses under his own wings

He is not pushed around or ordered about

So say it and stand your grounds

Say it and cause a great change in your life and that of mankind

Say it and don’t hesitate

Say it,

say it and

say it again…