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Showing posts from 2016

Bambara Beans

You know how I can't stand it,
When you've had a bowl of beans,
And this six by six meters of room
Is raging hell and bitter perfume.

You know how it irks me,
When I hold my breath
And you laugh too hard
Till tears run down your cheeks
Ridged by parallel tribal marks.

You know I hate you
For not being here,
The air is clean
And I don't know how to breath easy.

They planted
sweet-smelling flowers
On your grave
I want to rip them all out
And for you, in their place,
Plant Bambara beans,
So that, once again,
I can hold my breath
Whenever I come to visit you.

*****November 26, 2016*****

R. I. P Friend 😢

Post Black Exodus Earth

In the not so distant future,
there would hang,
in museums on Earth,
in vibrant colors,
of men with bronze skin
with exaggerated toned thighs,
and women with hair painted in the darkest shades of black.

And children,
in schools,
will learn sanitized versions
of how
Bronze Skins were trapped,
shipped and sold like exotic pets.
How they thrived in strange lands
then, got hunted like predatory pests,
for sports,
just because...

Eons after Exodus,
On Mother Planet, Earth,
upon closer inspection
the bullet fractured skull
of the only known complete skeleton
of a bronze-skinned man,
an anthropologist
discovers a paradigm-shifting truth,
"Negroes were human too..."

*****October 2, 2016*****
Trevor reacts to a newly released video of Philando Castile being shot dead by police. Full episode: — The Daily Show (@TheDailyShow) June 22, 2017 After police murdered #PhilandoCastile - they arrested his fiancé, Diamond Reynolds,…

Bedtime Epiphany of a Pining Heart

I contemplated
On things that were and were not,
On why
Light retracts different, in your eyes,
Like rainbows randomly ricocheting
Off my intangible thoughts,

On why,
Words sound different, on your lips,
How you laugh,
How the sounds take a path,
Across infinite dreams,
Into all my incarnations,
Into all my iterations,
Into all...

I concluded
You are a figment
of my imagination,
You must be...

God is not so cruel
That he made a Heaven like you
Then condemned me
To the Hell of perpetual longing
Wanting, and never belonging...

*****September 14, 2016*****

Home, Not

If home
is where the heart is:

my heart knows
where it'd rather be.

my heart knows
Home will never be...

*****September 5, 2016*****

A Life Cut in Marble

I am
a life cut from marble,
Weathered in pain,
Scarred and jaded into perfection.

I am,

I am
the abominable manifestation
of all your lies and all my sins.

*****September 12, 2016*****

Executioner's Business

I have not come here
To put back together
The Guinea fowl egg
That was broken on Her Majesty's sandals.

I am an Executioner.
The why and the how matters not,
It's the Who.

Those who in malice
Destroy good food in fits of pettiness
Then turn to mock the distended bellies
Of hungry children
Shall know no peace.

But today,
It is not scoffing egg breakers that vex me.

It is,
Those who in silence watched
While the dirty deed was done,
Unconcerned about hungry mouths,
Then proceeded to,
on the miscreants
behalf, plead for mercy,
It is they who stir my bile.

So may I not be blamed
When in swinging my blade
I, accidentally, chop off the heads
Of wailers who stand too close to the guilty.

The Executioner's job is urgent business
I have no time for the niceties
Of giving, those who loiter, final warnings.

***** August 3, 2016*****

High Octane Love

I don't love easy,
Or slow or even low.

I love hard and busy,
high octane,

when I crash,
I am a shipwreck,
Shattered past salvaging...

Untold Stories

The Antelope has its own story,
but it matters not to the Lion.

The untold stories of dead antelopes
is why gazelles run when lions come.

*****March 02, 2016*****


We have become sheep,
fattened on campaign promises,
slaughtered at the swearing-in,
and feasted upon for four years.

we are reincarnated,
to be feasted upon the next four years.

*****December 17, 2015*****

Bloody Fingers

I'm still picking up pieces of me
off the concrete of betrayal,
You smashed me, hard.

Shards and slivers of self,
infinitesimal, sharp,
bloody my fingers,
this lesser pain,
a temporary distraction.

I finger painted your name in blood,
a masterpiece of pain
forever in the gallery of my mind.

*****April 29, 2016*****

The Moon, In Spite of Rumors

They say
The Moon, unlike stars,
Does not produce its own light.

From Earth, where we stand,
At night, nothing shines more bright.

The World Outside Mine by @quasiadu

If I should stand here
And speak my mind
I will speak of places
Places I have seen and heard of
I will even speak of the faces
That fill the spaces of my mind

I will speak of Korle
Bu, Dudor, Wokon and Gonno
And sickening stench from the Lagoon
That wafts gently through the air
I will speak of the dirtied skins
And the pregnant, half-fed bodies
Of women and girls
Who are desperate to find choices
They were never given

I will tell you
Of the harsh life of Kumasi Kejetia
I will speak of the curbside prophets
Sermonizing soulfully for their pockets
I will tell you about the beggars
In fraying dresses
From the lands beyond here
And I will speak of time
Time expiring towards emptiness

I will speak to you
About the other side
Of beautiful Accra
Of the attractive head porter
Whose life has oft been
A bias of the plain truth
Searching for the place
And the space that isn't there
I will also tell you of her child
Hungry for his mother's soured milk
His numb fingers holding on her
His w…

A Girl Called Mirage

How your lips move with words;
you savour each syllable
and I,
Can't help but wonder how they'll taste
If I picked them off your tongue.

How light dances in your eyes;
like mischievous spirits
dancing around fires
and I,
long to peer deep
till I'm singed, moth to fire.

How your hair shines in the sun;
stubborn, jet black
cotton candy
Halo crowns you,
and I,
stretch an arm
In worship, you Gaia incarnate.

How raindrops run down your curves;
Leaving traces on your
Dark Chocolate skin,
And I,
watch in envy their sensual descent.

How your aura holds attention;
like shimmering light
in pitch black night
and I,
a Deer,
Blinded in headlights
Spellbound before deadly impact.

How your presence holds me captive;
like all things that lead men astray,
desire trumps reason,
and I,
into the desert, follow a mirage,
knowing fully, this won't end well.

*****April 16*****

Shaming the Family Name

You did not become a Doctor,
Or a Lawyer,
Or an Engineer,
Or anything better
that Mother can brag about to nosy neighbours
Now, when Father talks about his children,
He somehow forgets your name.

You denied Dear Mother
the chance to give testimony at Women's Fellowship
And she's still bitter
from listening to others talk about their children
And how the Lord blessed them.

You wasted Father's money;
3 years in High School, studying Science
4 years in University, reading Engineering
Then you went and became,
an artist, a designer of glorified road signs.

Now when Father talks about you,
He shakes his head slowly,
Saying, "what sin did I commit to deserve this",
You broke your father's heart.

And it matters not
How much success you achieve,
Or how much critical acclamation you receive,
They say you shamed the family name.
But, oh, this thing called shame,
You wear it so well, Like a crown, in your own world.

You dared to sing a different tune,
You made it hard f…

Today I Laughed

Today, I laughed,
When you've hidden for so long
behind layers of my plastic smile
Laughter is a foreign language
With accents too hard for the tongue.

Today, I laughed,
At myself,
Falling over myself,
Trying desperately to get your attention
While you struggled not to laugh
At the awkwardness of my effort,
My ego, unimpressed watched,
And still, you didn't laugh.

Today, I laugh,
For the first time in forever,
And as it echoed in the emptiness of my torso,
I felt walls I didn't know I had built,
Come crumbling down.

Today, I laughed,
It was like speaking a dead language,
It felt scholastic, poetic,
Like deciphering hieroglyphic riddles
Etched on your brows as you struggled not to laugh,
Like finding secret meanings in you.

Today, I laughed,
For the first time in forever,
And I'd rather not wait another eternity
So excuse my awkwardness and sit by me

*****March 21, 2016*****

Sunday School Boy

Your body is the temple of God,
And I was glad when you said to me
"Let us go into the house of the Lord"

I'm here to worship
To bury my face in your bosom,
So full of grace,
And rightly divide your Word of Truth.

I am the Gentile Commander,
Here to plunge in your River, Jordan,
More than seven times,
Spill my secrets
And come out cleansed.

When my life flashes before me,
At the flexing of your Pearly Gates,
I will softly whisper the Lord's name, in vain,
Then the repentant sinner that I am
Must confess his sins, again...

*****March 12, 2016*****

Land of Rich Resources

Pure gold is in his every smile,
little boy running down the Korle,
tugging at his high flying kite,
self-made millionaire in his own mind,
dreams flying higher than his kite.

Dark Chocolate skin mama,
son fiercely strapped behind under the market sun,
each sweat builds an ocean of dreams,
someday you will sail to bigger dream, Dear Son.

See it in towers planted from 37 to Trassaco
as they reach to touch the heavens,
see it in effigies of founding fathers pointing forward,
dreams cast in stone urging us on onward,
see them and dare to believe.

Hear it in every voice,
unbridled joy, when,
“Let there be light”,
at half past six every day,
a people unbroken,
an unending well of bubbling hope.

It's in the unbroken chains that bind us,
the fierce smiles that warm us,
a babel of languages, yet a people united,
it's not the sweat tainted gold minted coin,
it's the soul binding kinship worth its weight in gold.

Land of rich resources...

***** March 4, 2014*****

Colourless God

Colourless God,
Let's add some dye
for plain can't be divine.

Colourless God,
God is a canvas in the mind
Let's paint him in our kind.

Colourless God,
Let us make God in our own image
Then say ours alone deserves homage.

*****February 14, 2016*****

Colourless God
🤔 — A (@poetra_asantewa) February 14, 2016
We were having a discussion on twitter when Poetra tweeted this and I wrote this in reply

Pajamas Pockets

I have a theory about why pajamas have pockets

*****February 13, 2016*****

The Vulture

In times of famine,
The Vulture does not eat grass.
When Leopards are lean
because antelopes nowhere to be seen
The Vulture sits and watches,

Those who mocked his baldness
Will do well to remember
None has seen the Vulture's corpse
And he is secure in the knowledge that none will.

when it rains
And they mock him
For having no nest still,
He holds his peace,
For the Vulture, he's a patient animal.

The Vulture is not vindictive,
Those who mocked will die,
Those who didn't will die,
It matters not.
For when carcasses lay ripe
The Vulture does not ask
If his feast was once friend or foe

*****February 1, 2016*****

Coffee Shop

Five minutes ago,
I took my first, my last, gulp of this coffee.
It was hot, very hot.
As my tongue whimpered, my lips went numb
Instinct, “SPIT IT OUT!”
But years of proper training
And reading books like,
"Courtesy for Boys and Girls" forced me to swallow.
The vile-tasting drink snaked down my throat nipping at soft tissue.
My eyes water, the man in me
Fighting back tears.
Real men don't cry, you see.
That was five minutes ago.
There's a lady with Nubian skin a few meters away.
She's holding a mug of warm Cocoa drink with two hands,
Her head crowned with a stubborn looking 'fro
That certainly craves coconut oil constantly,
And as she sensually sips her drink
I can almost hear her happy hormones overflowing
I keep staring, coveting...
It occurs to me how different she is
From a certain Coffee loving Cocoa drink hating Significant Other
And I realize I'm being emotionally unfaithful,
To my cup of Coffee.
My Coffee is now lukewarm,
I should leav…