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Random Ranting



  • In the absence of meat the Vulture does not eat grass
  • A child who can play with his mother's breast can not play with his father's testicles
  • Nothing is more discouraging than unappreciated sarcasm
  • History teaches us that men and nations behave wisely once they have exhausted all other alternatives - Abba Eban
  • Temptation; a woman's weapon, a man's excuse
  • Those who are kind enough to offer their heads to be used in the cracking of coconut would not be able to participate in its eating - Ewe Proveb
  • I am the punishment of God, if you had not committed a great many sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you - Genghis Khan
  • God made the world and rested, he made man and rested, he made woman and so far no one has rested
  • If every fool wore a crown, we'd all be kings and queens


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They Don't Teach us how to Grieve

They don't teach young men How to grieve.

Be a man, Stand strong, Men don't cry, They say.
That's how we are made.
Somewhere, There's a conveyor belt Constantly chucking out Boys, with pent-up toxic emotions, Shoulders hunched under the weight of society's expectations.
There's a piece of wood in my mouth I bite hard on it praying I don't black out As I saw off another weakness I saw in the mirror.
Something about Better to enter the Kingdom With one arm...
I don't know...
A brother died today,

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.

When bats at 37 take to flight;

Hero Worship

The air is thin And the landing narrow, Up, on the dizzying heights, Where we set our heroes.
There, gusty winds Neither holds brief Nor relief As they threaten to Humble all things that elevate themselves.
When like prayers We've offered flattery On altars of unrealistic expectations And our heroes, like golden calves, Glisten with pride, Know this, There surely is a reckoning When they come tumbling down.
We were the mob at the foot of the mountain Elevating them in adulation
We are the mob at the foot of the mountain Now shouting CRUCIFY HIM, CRUCIFY HIM, CRUCIFY HIM