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Friday, 23 January 2015

Garden Wars

Do not be eager to turn the soil 
Plant seeds and water the seedlings 
On a neighbor's garden, carrot soup  

It is all good and well in words 
Promises that may have been made 
But the season is long, cabbages and potatoes 

And harvest time brings more people 
To the farmer's house, farmer's farm 
That other wise feels deserted, lettuce wrap 

But with you and your neighbor 
When such promises were made 
Of neighborly share, apples and oranges 

Do not be too hasty to count 
The harvest on your neighbor's farm 
On promises made, chicken and eggs 

The season is long 
And other factors once not conceded 
May come into play, corn and butter 

\Silent mouths find their voices 
Ghost find their interest to take form 
Reclaiming where their interest lies, tomatoes and pepper 

Do not be in a hurry my dear friend 
To lay claim on a neighbor's harvest 
Save yourself from such disappointment, broccoli and cheese 

The season is long 
And the seedlings have only been planted  
Do not be in a hurry, haste to lay claim, beef stew 

Tuesday, 20 January 2015

The Farmer and The Hunter Analogy

The hunter and the farmer 
An analogy that serves 
To establish a notion of 
Temporary and permanent stands 

The energy that holds 
A fire in perpetual stay 
Cannot afford to burn as fast 
With such intensity 

That radiates a heightened sense
Of excitement at high peak 
It is only the gods that have that ability 
Apollo Helios as the sun god 

Nothing that good can hold form 
That long, a golden rule 
To be observed 
It stands, it stays 

Casanova would have failed 
Granted, in every relationship 
Past the excitement period, stages 
Running out t' windows has become his norm 

The hunter losses his essence 
Once the meat has all been eaten 
He has to go back hunting 
To remain relevant 

So tell me why should the farmer 
Worry about the hunter 
He's time is always limited 
The farmer and the hunter an analogy 

After all it is the start of farming 
That civilisation of man is drawn on 
It is said 

Monday, 19 January 2015

My roots and me

Where my roots lie 
Between civilization and lost worlds 
That sprung, flourished and vanished 
In a twinkle of an eye 

Where is Atlantis 
The Kings and Queens 
The high society and low class 
That once lived here 

The jewelry and sliver spoons 
The clay bowls and wine jugs 
The soldiers and debt collectors 
The beauty and the beast 

Where are all the old souls 
That passed away what of the young
and vibrant between space and the universe 
What form are they taking now 

Light as a feather or as heavy as a rock 
To become strangers in their own land 
Long forgotten and of their essence 
Are we ghost, souls of the dinosaur 

Where does my root lie, 
Between civilizations and the lost world 
Between yesterday and today 
In a twinkle of an eye 

Sunday, 18 January 2015

A Ghanaian Caskets

It is hard to clean a mess 
This wide spread 
With splash this wide a range 

The task of knees to the floor 
With every tiny fine corner to clean 
Like dust spread on dome road 

A mess this great to clean 
The air feels stuffy filled with remnants 
Of what had just been executed by the beast 

Torn to shred like peaces of meat 
Lying around in an open filled 
Of wild grass with blood stains 

Bury me in my sleep
In a casket made in Ghana 
In reflection of my life 

Just make sure it is with dreams 
And not nightmare 
I lie in this rest sleep with 

Do not put me in a cage 
With my heart still haunted 
As torture to hold 

I would have to fight myself to death 
And then repeat in essence 
The whole scene over again 

Over and over and over again 
Like a ghost in a haunted house 
Claiming property right 

Over and over and over again  
Bury me in a casket made in Ghana 
In reflection of my life 

So I continue 
Being myself 
Long after I am gone 

Friday, 16 January 2015

Journeys Due South

Due north, due south 
I have crossed these rivers 
That flow due south 

Swimming chest deep 
In the raining season, on high tides 
And walking on the river beds on low tides 

Like old bird's nest 
With debris as ghost that laid 
Of what was once before 

Broken branches, tweaks 
And dead leaves brown and yellow 
That voyaged passed this junction joint 

Would never again in slopping rivers 
That flows down south 
Regardless of the season 

Their tribulations I have known 
But would never again host I pray 
By the river front I stand 

Age is like the old river 
With debris that passed once before 
Would never again host this time 

I have witnessed 
I pray sage gives me the wisdom 
To remember 
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