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My Life, a Melting Ice Cream

I woke up one day to find out I was dead.

I hadn’t made a name, no footprints left;
They only remembered as a forgotten man,
It was like I wasn’t ever there, here,
By the way, I lived you’d think that was the plan.

I woke up once and life had melted away.

I’m standing above myself,
A halo over my once miserable head,
What a sight I am, uncaring, unfeeling,
And people wondering if I’m really dead.

I woke up one day to a loud silence.

I woke up to a call I could hear,
I woke up to deafening silence,
The end wasn’t near, the end was here,
There I lay, dead in every sense.

I woke up one day and I just wasn’t there.

Pompously righteous priests nonchalantly muttered prayers
As strangers planted me in the garden dead,
They planted me in a garden of shadows and gloom,
6 feet in the ground in a box without much room.

I went to bed a 7pm and died at 9.

I knocked at the pearly gates,
The reply was simple,
"No admittance after 8",
So silently, I wait,
Morning is only an eternity away.

I woke up one day to find out I was dead.

My life flashed fast before me,
Life rewinds in a disconcerting way,
Suddenly I see myself as a child again,
I’m standing in the midday sun,
Twin tears running down my cheeks,
A cone of Ice Cream melting in hands.

*****July 27, 2008*****

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Bats at 37

When bats at 37 take to flight, At a quarter past four Or, whatever time Accra heralds the night,

When bats at 37 take to flight, For me, there's not a more beautiful sight Of creatures, imagined or real, That lay claim to these glorious skies.

When bats at 37 take to flight, With fevered screeches that punctuate the night When by sheer numbers they darken the skies And, below, people of a superstitious disposition Can not be bothered, I am reminded that, Given enough time all things cease to be strange.

When bats at 37 take to flight, Devoid of vibrant plumes unlike most things that fly, Rising like Legion and the hordes of hell, In defiance of extermination attempts, Above the Hospital in elusive figurativeness, Haphazardly, in sync, over constipated traffic There is not a doubt who owns the peppered night.

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Finding God

The inexplicable
Is proof there's a God.

This, for me,
Is where doubt began.
For if we know today
More than we did yesterday
Then, God is
a constantly contracting chamber of ignorance.

Now if it is so
And God is the Lord of gaps
Then men of religion
May be forgiven
For their unrelenting battle
Against knowledge;
The God Killer.

But if God is
the beginning of wisdom
And his people perish
For lack of knowledge
And if we know today
More than we did yesterday

Then it stands to reason
That the God to believe in
Is an ever-expanding explosion of knowledge.

I have no faith
In the God of gaps
For God must be Omniscient
And ignorance is not
This, for me, is where doubt ends.

*****April 22, 2017*****