A WORD, A STEP, A WAR, A PEACE

IN HONOUR OF A MAN-OF-PEACE



December
December
December
Your 7th day is a perfect day
Let peace reign.

a word can send a sword away
a naughty step can draw the sword

each step, each word
may birth a war or a piece
that can serve a piece of cake
at the jamboree of a common national dream
but
the rival of this
we must cast away.

"My brothers and my sisters
Ghana is the only country we have"

Peace is not a piece
of bodies pulled together
like harvested yam at Tamale central market,
covered with green leaves for eternal
burial into stomachs
It is burying the ugly tongue
that may draw a sword
                   or a song

AND when it is all over
we shall forge a greater family,
hold hands, share pito, drink sobolo
eat tuo zaafi, eat akple and fetri-detsi
sing patriotic songs and dance
to the eternal drumtunes
that
WE ALL HAVE WON TOGETHER AGAIN!
PEACE!
29/11/2012 Legon

CACTUS JOURNEY

through our cactus journeys

you kept the smile, the hope, the dream

and you grew, flamboyant

defying scorching suns and evil eyes

and  now  you   stand

against the venom

of accusing voices and curses

and now you cruise into green-fields

with the smile, the hope, the dream.

but oh

there is still the glory beyond these hopes

a joy condensed at our nearing destination

so

still hold the dream

look beyond the clouds

beyond the tears of today's soul.

14/11/2012 

OUR BLOOD COLOUR VICTORY FLAGS

The makeshift rockets and missiles
Shake the souls of our dreams
As children of the world
1000 bodies divided into salad
Served at dinning at Gaza

Give our eyes goose-pimples.


But what does the foetus 
Have to do with a war
It knows nothing about?
Why must the child be 
The victim of a reckless
brotherhood claiming lion-ness
over others' animal-ness?



and now our tears flood
the sea,
birthing hurricane Sandy 

then there will be hurricane Gaza

our heads
shall decorate the victory flag-posts
our blood shall colour the victory flags

our unborn future
shall ghost haunt the victory parties

and what a fractured world
shall remain
in memory of GAZA?

20/11/2012 Language Centre, Legon

WE ALL DIED

There is this silence
Heavier than the gunshot
A voice, keeping me away 
From telling you how much I...

This great unrealistic desire
Puts us all at a journey's end
At this primal days of our sojourn.
It is a thorn
Cutting deep, making us bleed
Yet protecting and decorating
Our dreams and TEARS and fears;
This razor
Bringing the true colour of our blood
But painfully, to the admiration of...
This porcupine skin
Taking or not taking:
each with its smile
each with its tears
each with its fears

There must be conversations
and the silence cripples us all

Then

The call came
the line died down
we all DIED, unconventionally!

20/11/2012, Language Centre, Legon.

OTABIL AND THE JESUS OF ICGC

The free education debate has become a theological debate. Many people who might not have heard of Pastor Otabil’s teachings on education are now aware of everything. The Pastor has come out to do the unusual: organizing a press conference apart from the press release by the church.

Does the International Central Gospel Church (ICGC) have a different Jesus that they follow or not? This is a harmless question. I don’t want to be drafted into the debate too. However I know as a Christian that Jesus teaches that we shall be persecuted, insulted and even killed for his sake but our rewards are in heaven. What about this? Is Jesus not powerful enough to defend his own?

Then there is the issue of judgment. Pastor Otabil calls his accusers and what they say “evil”. The Bible says we should not judge so that we will also be judges. What about this? 

There was a story of a Jesus of Dzorwulu who came preaching that we should not bath. There was also a Pastor in the North of Ghana who predicted the end of the world, and the list continues. Who shall we believe now?

SILENT TEARS

Come Brother Come

Yesterday, our brother-leader was shot

in the pipe-hose at his birthplace;

and the sun set on our land at dawn

Come Brother Come

See the debris of our bulldozed dreams

Rotting in the oil fields and goldmines;

And watched. Our arms glued at our backs

The ancient whip modernised 

And flung at our silent souls

As Tripoli falls into alien hands 

It's waters flowing into stranger dams

Her insects screaming in foreign sounds

As we watched. Our arms TIED to our backs.

14/11/2012 Legon

AFRICA

we are the children of
the loins of warriors
we survived the panthers' threats

Africa, the home of the BRAVE!

LAST NIGHT II

The skull of the lazy
is not worth the hair of the brave
so I come

I come to you with the voice
that sets the sea ablaze
that floods the desert
that melts the mountains
in the breaking of the virginity of words

last night i saw the foot-marks of the panther
i crawled on my heart.
but my tongue stood like
the giant of the moon tales

it is the chick
that keeps scratching the ground 
that discovers the skull of its grandmother

so when you see again
Those prophets
massaging the brain of our consciences
taking the storms from our voices
chanting the dirges of our birth
splashing the egg of shadows
over our minds
Look at them in the eye
and punch the nail of truth
into their hearts.

we walk through darkness
to arrive at light
but under the sound of fire
we feel cold, shivering
Forever shivering in our emaciated souls
Asking, forever asking
When shall our freedom be born
When shall our freedom be born
When shall our freedom be born?

But here comes a season
when we shall no more hide hernia
from the water-closet.

my land.: ANCESTRAL VOICES: 10GHS for students.

my land.: ANCESTRAL VOICES: 10GHS for students.

ANCESTRAL VOICES: 10GHS for students.

A Plea For Justice

Returning from a riverside

With a bucket of water

I saw droplets of tears

Cumulating by and by

Forming a small stream

Snaking to the riverside.

Returning from the riverside

I heard wailings of people

Children and old

Men, women, boys and girls

 Cursingly crying as the tears were

Snaking to the riverside.

Returning from the riverside

Injustice and greed matrimonized

Hunger, poverty and disease familiarised

Under the auspices of scavenging aristocrats

While tears of the victimised were

Snaking to the riverside.

Returning from the riverside

I heard complains complaining

Yet none listened to them

A little girl knelt before me pleading

For my intersection as her tears were

Snaking to the riverside.

Returning from the riverside

I gather plights and sorrows

To the altar of justice

And he sent me to men

Seeking mercy for other men whose tears are

Snaking to the riverside.

                                11/12/2008 Legon