my dearest woman

Fantasizes of you, have I, since childhood;
You, I see every time I close my eyes,
You found me and you chose me-
Thankful and beholden, I am.

Oh beautiful one, stunningly attractive;
You who educated intelligence and character,
Dignity and faithfulness are your playmates-
And children long for you to be their mum.

You love the smell of dew, it intrigues me;
You make laughter and conviviality beam,
From ear to ear; they stand in awe of you,
And royalty is a secret admirer.

Peace, your elder sibling taught you etiquette,
And your mum; Hope is so proud of you.
Your starry eyes, lights up the heart of nature-
And your words calm mother earth.

The first dance, the world jazzed our rhythm.
Your gracefulness, it still amazes me;
Your whispers and touch belittles sensuality,
And attention courts your presence.

You get to my heart through my mind;
And your handiwork surpasses diligence.
Your arbitration skill makes dexterity clumsy-
You are the envy of most women.

The winds strain to hear you whisper;
And the stars sing you a lullaby at bedtime-
Whiles the moon guards you in your sleep.
How can I not adore? I’m afraid I may worship.

You are a gift from Onyankopon;
I am eternal indebted to Him, and why not?
Every moment I thank Him for you-
I now understand “it is not good for man to be alone”.

morning

Morning, it’s a new day;
Tis what the dawn gives way to’
With wings flapping,
Pride cloaks the cock.
A new verse and a new song,
Magnificently, proclaiming Morning’s presence.

Morning, there’s never a better time;
For Hope to smile,
Yawns subside and limbs stretched.
Optimism and strength are recovered,
Dreams rekindled,
A new will unearthed.

Morning, tis when God is petitioned most;
Praises and requests rise up to heaven,
New thoughts and strategies.
A novel comradeship emerges,
Stuck between eagerness and assurance,
Whiles possibilities beckons.

Morning, sometimes I hate you.
Again, I can’t do this any longer;
Same stuff, faces, chores and events.
What says thou?
Will today be different? I wish.
Good or bad, I go forth this morning

Good Morning, we chant;
A clean sheet, a fresh smell,
What will we do with it?
The minutes, coiled in seconds,
Turns the clock and waits for no man,
Soon, it will be Afternoon.

who am i?

Who am I?
So harmless a question it seems,
Yes I think I know who I am.
I’m intelligent, witty, beautiful,
imaginative, and compassionate.
Hey, what about greedy,
angry, petty, distrustful, bitter?

Who am I?
This is an eye-opener;
An awareness, a little uneasiness,
I don't know me that well,
There is a dire desire
burning inside me now;
Wanting to know me.

Who am I?
Wonderfully and fearfully made I’m told;
One who has dominion over all things,
Created in the very image of Onyame.
I am who, I am.

Who am I?
They say my ancestors evolved from the apes;
Wonder what my descendents would evolve into,
Homo sapien amphibious flyer,
I am fit, thus I survive.

Who am I?
A soul searching journey
or a soul search engine;
Enter myself and what do I unearth,
A name, attitudes, skills and habits.
And my DNA, my genetic signature.

Who am I?
Why do I think the thoughts I think?
Why do I walk with a slighted limp?
Why do I feel such octaves of emotions?
But most importantly, why am I me?

Who am I?
I don't know if you’ve ask,
asked yourself who you are.
Strange but I don't think I know who I am,
I thought....., oh mine,
How can I be so daft?
I need to find meaning.

Who am I?
The way I walk, run, talk,
cry, laugh, write and sing.
Whom and where
did I pick such qualities from?
The things I have studied and learned,
How has it shaped my life and thus me?

Who am I?
I can see and feel in me,
a part of my parents,
My walk, an animation of the neighbour.
Laughter, I imitated that lady,
The one with the hatful hat,
And teacher Kwamina
has influenced my writing.

Who am I?
I’m everything I’ve heard,
seen, touched, tasted and felt.
I will be all I hear, see,
touch, taste and feel
They are traits, attitudes,
perceptions, skills and habits
Of parents, friends, neighbours,
enemies, heroes and villains

Who am I?
I’m an embodiment of all around me;
I have imitated and mimicked,
different experiences in life,
My way of such performance,
is what makes me unique.
Who am I? I am a part of you–
every one of you.

think, think

Too oft, I heard the phrase; think, think,
Why, why, I rhymed after it, snickering.

Then, I was young and carefree,
Didn’t understand problem and its problems.

But I met think, then encountered think,
Think, think, what a pair?

To think, thinking and thoughts;
Its art and science has engaged man,

Its spirit – inquiry and dialogue, answers–
How, When, Where, What, Who and Why.

Thinking solves the problems of problem;
Caused by the choice of choices we made,

Influenced by the alternatives of action’s actions,
Created by conclusions of previous thoughts.

being different

How much of my life is left?
A captivated man aging,
Adulterated acts and attitudes,
Differently, have I conducted myself.
Sometimes, I’m criticised for it,
Praise, I have gotten from some.
Why can’t I just be me?
Why do I have to be like everybody?

All I ever wanted; was to be me.
My thoughts, imaginings and ideas,
Stretched, to include tomorrow. Not
A future conceived by some architects?
Divided, by their hushed feelings;
Of whining from across the room.
Bent on recognising greatness,
I have mastered respect for normalcy.

A symphony of likes and dislikes,
Impregnates my heart and soul;
Every time I see, hear, taste, touch or feel,
Any deed or work or speech
Of any male, female, child or adult.
Analysis, approval, disapproval and censorship.
Satisfaction only shells in my approach,
Consider my way, a better option it is.

It’s hard admitting this facade,
Slighted, their ways and mine as well.
Like the noiseless breeze of last night,
With no air to spiral, dying before its birth,
Perfection despicably eludes us all.
Criticism, like sugar is tastier,
And unreliable as the menstrual cycle.
It seems, being me is the best definition.

Do it this way, the chorus sang.
Who’s way is that, if it’s not yours?
I’m keeping silent, for this–
An introduction divided,
Into reasons for doing it their way or mine;
Only time will give substance to one.
Thus, I dare to be different,
Like a gambler atop Mount Hope.

my love, my love

My love, my heartbeat;
Midway between adoration and worship,
Is where I place myself in your presence:
I do not know what to call that state,
But I know how it feels,
Comparatively, sensitivity is numb.

My love, my pulse;
Smile has carved its features on my face,
Because my fixation is stuck on you.
You are the essence of my world,
Shh, shhh and hushes, whispers all around;
Charmed? Their understanding is flawed.

My love, my throb;
How can I make the world understand?
That it was in your arms I found ecstasy;
In you, I have perfected love,
A love so sugared, it makes honey taste sour.
Contentment is what I have found in you.

My love, my thud;
The first time you kissed me,
The stars give forth a little more light;
An aristocratic chill froth from the dusk breeze,
My senses awoken and I became aware of me,
My soul you set free that night.

My love, my all;
My individuality, you let me keep,
And I have learned to live with you in unison.
My emotions, I have bottled and I control,
The fruit of freedom have I tasted,
Ecstasy it is called and sugary it is.

My love, my love;
Is there a company more desirable than yours?
You have become the lens through which I see.
Your whispers serve as the origin of my acumen,
And your smile awakens my sensuality.
The curvature of your lips smiling, dazzles me.

My love, my goddess;
Rhapsody my body experiences in your embrace;
My nostrils are constantly filled with your smell,
The resonance of your laugh still pulsates in my ear,
And your touch loosens my nerves in a whirlpool.
Bliss, it is I recount.

My love, my fetish;
Admiring you is praising God,
For your beauty is more than bewitching,
Glowing like the silvery dew under the moonlight.
Intelligence and esprit cultivate your intimacy,
You are a faultless imprint of my sexual fantasy.

religion is sick

O Religion, you are very sick!
Filled to the brim with deceit and greed.
You lend yourself, the umbilical cord,
For the poor, the frustrated and the ailing.
Aren’t we all under the weather?

An invisible entrepreneur, you are;
In the howling storm, you offer relief,
Intangible products, displayed on your shelves,
At prices that leaves our pockets empty,
And yours full, it’s your little secret.

You are in bed with politicians!
The very virus causing our ailment?
Irony is a shaggy dog story,
No wonder, your profits are not taxed.
A charity? The richest industry, I say.

You make more money in a day,
Then weekly transactions on the stock market.
Through sermonization of prosperity;
Your congregation question not your objectives,
For fear of offending God.

You shout your goodness from the roof tops;
Materialism and consumerism has replaced your love,
Respect amongst men do you seek and ask for.
Compassion has lost its place in your heart,
Dining and wining amidst the suffering of the feeble?

The old way of worship is no longer fitting,
Tis the season when we enjoy the fruits;
Of our fathers’ labour, your homily delivered.
Give, believe and you will receive;
Truth twisted to outfit a selfish generation.

O Religion! A miracle we implore for thee;
You no longer trod the long narrow road,
Because you are so fat, partially blind and lame.
Your celebrity status is costumed by arrogance,
You have found solace on earth.

O Religion, in your affliction, you forgot;
The very canon you have preached for centuries,
Tis miracles you demand from Onyankopon-
How sick you are, testing the Lord God?
Implore His mercy, and turn away from your sins.

thou art beautiful

Beauty, thou art beautiful;
How graceful it sounds to the ear,
Only the beholder has eyes for it, they say,
Yet we all crave for you.
Who are you, O mysterious One?
You, who adjectives cannot prettify

Beauty, thou art stunning;
Every man adorns her woman in your shadow,
For it is only in you, that his ego finds fulfilment.
His promiscuous nature wanes at your sight;
For your dwelling place is in a cul-de-sac,
And beyond it is nothingness.

Beauty, thou art gorgeous;
Women, they worship you,
From the crack of dawn till night falls,
They continually seek your favour upon them.
Listen, to the wonderful things they say about you,
You alone give them buoyancy to float on life’s river

Beauty, thou art wonderful;
See women smile when men liken them to you,
Their eyes light up the dark alleys,
And you can feel their hearts soften.
Like ice defrosting, like butter on a warm plate;
You are our mothers, sisters and wives’ energy.

Beauty, thou art attractive;
Oh Beauty, thou alone art beautiful,
Wars have been fought on your behalf,
And peace and tranquillity have nestled in your abode.
Great men weaken and kneel in your presence,
Whiles wicked men shower compassion.

Beauty, thou art astonishing;
Who are you, O beautiful one?
Whisper into my ears your personality,
I’m no impersonator, but for you I’ll become an impressionist.
Did you know why we invented mirrors?
We caught your reflection in the river.

Beauty, thou art magnificent;
How proud are those you hand pick,
For we all strive to be You.
You smile because we have created an industry in your name,
And professionals, we have schooled to imitate You.
Surgeons, therapists, stylists, designers and more.

Beauty, thou art breathtaking;
Unyoke our burden, O Beauty.
There is goodness about you, the philosopher says,
There is joy in your presence,
For you are more dazzling than the sun,
I google you everyday to find your true nature.

Listen, you who art beautiful;
All these praises are for yourself and you alone,
I am in you, look and you will see.
Learn to appreciate who you are and what you have,
Stop comparing yourself with others,
I am you, flaunt me before all, I’m beauty and you’re beautiful.

the boss' fart

The mood was gloomy, everyone depressed;
Work, work and all instructions.
Straight faces and no smiles,
Tense, the ambience, airy, the breeze.
Then the big fat boss walked across,
A notorious, silent-but-deadly wind break followed.

The smell, uh…., it was ‘aromatic’
It excelled in stench, and reeked,
Of eggs, beans and kontomire.
Lips curled up, and noses twitched.
Faces brightened and eyes quizzed,
The boss had farted, who will beat the gong gong?

Oh… what a smell? the accountant voiced,
As he entered with an invoice.
Imprisoned laughter echoed in the office; even,
The clock chuckled. Sheer delight on every face,
An indifferent posture, an ‘excuse me’ look,
The boss kept, And we had a gas-filled day at work.

right or left???

Let us go this way, they said,
Nah, lamented the others,
They’re wrong, our path is better;
Bickering, the activity they performed.
Each, trying to persuade the public.
Fingers pointed; accusingly at others;
Persistently, they radiate their words,
As projects, flowering handsomely.

Hear them, hear us, verbose oratory,
Like us, they once were.
In ostentatious places, they dine now.
A vow, they have taken, to lead us:
To serve us, they claim is their delight.
The pledge, a better tomorrow.
As ironic as impotency and cocky as diabolism,
Does any of them know that we're dying?

Where to? We don’t know
How can they? Then:
Relentless visions and dreams,
Manifestos echoing reverberatingly,
Tirelessly, like clang in our ears.
Incomprehensible and animated;
They have confused and divided us,
Only then can they rule.

Hope, tis you we long for:
They lure us with your image;
Blurred and at a cost.
Of freedom, and of rights,
Hostilities and lies, acrimonious sown:
Greed slaver their tongues,
Different names, they call themselves;
Their objective, singular – milk us dry.

Slogans of unity, they campaign with
Why not a united front?
For country and for people?
Fear people who don't get along,
They have further sub-divided themselves.
The Centre, the Far Left, the New Right,
Left of Right, Right of Centre and more.
When are we going to learn?

Politicians, they call themselves,
What a profession; politics.
Tricksters, hypocrites and sycophants, they are
‘Trihypophants’ we should call them.
Their minds intoxicated with power;
To boast their ego and obscure their weakness,
They seek only, their interests.
Otherwise, why manipulatively confuse us.

We have to dig deep into ourselves
Tis courage we need.
Let us learn from the ants;
The book of Proverbs espouses us.
They don't have rulers,
And we are brainy then them.
What legacy are we leaving our children?
The ones we say we love.

Collectively, we are the new force,
Our concerns, our priority;
As one, we create a synergy,
Of talents, beauty and strength.
A harvest, will our economy be:
Our land will become rich and powerful,
A wealth nation, an affluent system,
Our legacy to our children.

desire

I let my imagination, run riot about you;
Like time, I indulge myself fantasizing about you,
Curvy and smooth, your nudeness I imagine,
Horny the sight of you makes me.

As attractive as lust, do I find you.
Arousal is the scent, you fill my nostrils with;
Silky, the feel of your skin against mine,
The glow of your skin is like Aurora.

Your touch, lighter than a feather is sensual,
Like jazzy blues, your moans in my ears;
Heat from a furnace, is welled up in my groin,
Sending shivers down vertebrae.

I imagine you starry eyes, during an orgasm;
The curvature of your lips, as it forms a groan.
The sight of your nipples erect, I long for,
O, Desire, yourself, you have revealed to me?

Sweaty and tangier, your skin taste;
My teeth I sink into your softness,
Heightening moans the little bites gives,
Like lighting, wetness fills you up.

Your orgasmic state, I’ve venerated in my mind:
A new found theme for my fantasies,
Like a sneeze, its description difficult,
Like a craving, I’ll move mountains for you.

flattery

Words, velvety pronounced;
To create an impression!
Tis not falsehood, she claims,
What then, my dear flatter?
An essential skill for survival;
Relentless flamboyancy-
To scrap my way through life.

The ways of flattery, alluring;
Words that come out of her mouth;
Theatrically polished and packaged-
To calm and loosen your nerves.
I warn thee, she is a sycophant;
To ensnare and consequently control,
Her phantasm and compulsion.

How can you live off words?
When they come cheaper by the dozen;
Peoples remarks, impregnated,
With intentions unknown.
Deeply captivate our emotions,
And sow in us thoughts and manners,
That formulates a character.

Chatter, natter, utter is all she does.
Promises of dreaminess;
Her offer on the table, O you,
Know ye not that, thou art beautiful,
And intelligent and wonderfully made?
Why do you feed off the scraps;
When set before thee, is a banquet?