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

THE GOD MOANS

The dogs seek preys!

These dogs want to hunt

But there’s no prey

The hunter, dog trainer

Now must suffer the venom

Of these dogs.

So now he moans, he moans

The dogs swoop on his treasured

Body parts. Now scattered in trillion bags.

The hunter seeks soul help

But oh! Who, who will deliver

The god from the might of it’s

Handiwork? Who? Who?

21:40, 7/10/2012, Legon.

Aniglida

I, Aniglida, am the dangerous serpent.

When we, the snakes of our forests

Take thirty-seven log strokes

From the hands of our enemies,

I walked safely home

While the rest of my generation

Ache and quake and cake in a cage

Of eternal death.

I am the most courageous soul;

All others may suffer comas

At the sight of one half of my woes

But since a hunter doesn’t say

All the mysteries of his art

I kept my secrets upon oath.

It is not cowardice

That mutes the cat

At the sight of events

That makes dogs bark with shameless thunders.

Let the gourd that thinks itself the greatest

Pay a visit to the riverside at dawn.

 30/5/2012 Lome, Togo.

Harvested Ash

In the deep womb of time

Are built silos of chime

When the tiger searches maize

In sprinting hunger haze

And dashes to the silos in a splash

Finds in them only ash

So let the limping lions lie

Let the dying dogs die

Let the melting magma melt

And let them not look up for help!

30/08/2012 Mafi- Kumase