Monday, 31 October 2011

Dirge for a Clan Child

Guns in hands, shooting escapes the mind
Knives in hands, throwing poses difficulty
They say the death of a man never far from him
For whatever footwear you wear
Thorns cannot be a taboo;

So the maimed him, they maimed him  

Storm-fire howls against the oak
Deep rooted in the crust of savanna sands
Chased by wild wise dogs
For usurping ancestral thrones
Four decades and two ago

So the maimed him, they maimed him  

He bore the burdens of the clan
He was the voice of resilience
Against dog’s dreams of another brother-trade across brines
Several sea-waves to come

 So the maimed him, they maimed him  

It was for similar or same crime
That grandfather Kwame was chased
To end his journey in a foreign dream
And even his body was at the Supreme Court
For questioning and for cosmic justice adjudication

So the maimed him, they maimed him

They say Lumumba also craved for too long
 A dream time to bury traces of dog feet
That scratched the fertile soils of his farmland
And transported primal work power
To beyond where clouds and seas conclave

So the maimed him, they maimed him  

Sankara of recent dream faced same
Crucifixion by doggish masked justice
When he rose at the battle front to archive
Our tatted memory and birth a new future
And dream a newer dream for our children

So the maimed him, they maimed him  

and just

They maimed him, they maimed him
The clan’s only vocal child
The maimed him, they maimed him  

deep inside the gallows of his birthplace

and darkness fell on the clan-house
at noon.

2:05am. 22/10/2011. Legon

Holy boast

They have arrested my voice
The owners of nights arrested my voice
And gifted it to death

It was Mama Wosekpo who said it
Several voices across ancient song waves
It is a burden of the cantor
To breathe and eat and sleep and sing
In this ant-hole of our sun journeys

But from far off Madibaland
Bandilisha rode with flying iron birds
To these Osagyefoland
To put my voice on electronic winds
For a website grafted upon internets

It was the coconut husk that boasted
He burns more than the straw.

12/10/11 1:00 am Legon

Friday, 14 October 2011

DAWN MEDITATION (In memory of Rev. Fr. Angelo Confalonieri- mccj)

After all our duties shall we be transported,
Snatched into eternity eternally,
Maybe after the Biblical pension age-
Three-score and ten.
But the just, though earlier taken
Shall be at rest
The age of honourability comes
Neither with passing times’ passion
Nor measured with heaped up years.
Understanding, rather becomes
The hoary crown of men
And unsullied life
The attainment of old age.
He who pleased the creator
Was loved, is loved and 
Would be overly remembered.
He that lived among sinners
Was transported-snatched away
Lest wickedness perverts his mind
Or deceit beguiles his soul.

                       22/11/2008  Legon.


(to; Sherrie Thompson & Nouberse Philip)

In the evening wisdom of Savannah language
We shall light two candles of memory
On the graves of the abandoned dead
Of unknown families and those of Zong
.  .  .  Lost in the limbo of time, without memories

In the same Savannah language
We shall light three candles
On the footprints of those exchanged
For gold, gun powder, kola, second- hand calico
Gin and knighthood drenched
In saturated blood of Zong
.  .  .  Lost in the limbo of time without memories

In the same savannah language
 We shall light yet another two candles
Upon the voices of those whose bones
Were preyed upon by vultures,
 Those who could not be missed,
And those whose chains still hang,
In the limbo of our memories
.   .   .  And refusing to be forgotten
                                                            30/ 12/ 09      Mafi- Kumase.

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

HALLELUIAH DIMPLES (For: Enam Juliette Dogbatse, on your birthday.)

Life began in the past
And we stroll through the pavements of memory
To celebrate golden gains of the past

We celebrate the halleluiah dimples
Seated on the cheeks of a mother’s pride
Embodied in the soul of a daughter

We celebrate the silver plate of a face
With a pointed nose and dilating eyes that
Consolidate the creator’s creative powers

We celebrate a life well lived in the past
As we sojourn through the corridors of memory:
The life of Enam, a sister and friend

May those golden doors of tomorrow
Lead to the excellence awaiting
In the realm of the given

From the giver who made you a gift
To so many here and absent
Still united in spirit and soul at your banquet

And may centuries unborn on calendars
Come to celebrate the halleluiah dimples
Creatively crafted in Enam’s pride.    
                                                      3/1/2011 Legon.