Nostalgia

if home
were a bunch of pictures
neatly would I wrap them
beneath my armpit
 
if the rivers at home
were a drop of liquid
I would bottle enough
for my suitcase
 
and if the mounts
at home were just grains of sand
I would cup a spoonful
for myself
 
I would bring them with me
sit them on my lap
to build a treasure in my dreams
to cure nostalgia in my soul

Something inside me is so strong

Have you heard, when a man has a greater power than him
guarding his house, his belongings are undisturbed?
Have you also heard that greater is he that is in you,
than he that is outside in the world roaring at you?
The higher you build your barriers, the taller I become
The farther you take away my breath, the faster I will run.
You can deny me, you can decide to turn your face away;
no matter what you do, there’s something inside me so strong

I know I can make it because I know too well
that there’s is something inside me so strong;
and so long as my Redeemer lives, I’ll make it.
Though you’re doing me wrong, so much wrong
though you thought you’ll crush me dead before sunrise,
you are wrong; there’s something inside me so strong
You can deny me, you can decide to turn your face away
No matter what you do, there’s something inside me so strong
 
To you I’m not good enough and you insist
I’m not good enough, but the more you refuse to hear my voice,
the louder I’ll sing; even if you hide behind walls of Jericho,
your lies will come tumbling down like a dream.
Deny me my place and you squander your time;
my flesh may feel the pain, but it won’t touch my soul.
Soon, my light will shine so bright that it will blind you
because there’s something inside me so strong.

Cigars and Cigarettes What's the Difference

I want to say something, so excuse me my language…..please excuse me and forgive me if it hurts your ear or affects my reputation in your heart. With that let me say this, “Every prostitute (that we accuse blindly) was once a virgin; has anyone sat down to find out why she became a prostitute?” I know it may seem strange to you. It may defy explanation. It may seem like evil incarnate, the dis of all disses...but wait, there's always another side to the story. Perhaps if you saw the world the way he/she sees it, it might make more sense. Perhaps if you lived her/his life and experienced the perceptions she/he was taught or has learned, it might provide fresh insight into the actions you find so inexplicable. It doesn't mean you have to forgive him/her, or even interact with him/her, but at least you can understand him/her and not go away with the wrong notion or perception of him/her. So treat your love, your partner, the one you are in relationship with in a way you would like to be treated. What is good for the goose is good for the gander too.

 Cigars and Cigarettes

Every action hides perception
all perception hide a need
So the trick to knowing others
is to find what thirst they feed

Truly rarely the act committed
that's just evil through and through
Most are deeds based upon fears
and sad and sorrowful world views

Some fear loss will be their lot
will some anticipate attack
Some see love as unrequited
So they run and don't look back

Hasten not to condemnation
don't throw baby out with bath
Never fault a man his actions
'til you walk his earthly path

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Picture

sometimes pictures tell a story
of life full of our fears and qualms
and glorious bittersweet moments

some speak of twinges and stabs

scars held deep within furrows on the cheek
some painfully stuck in a corner of the heart
yet because the photographer says, “Cheese”
all we see in the picture is a smile
and not the letter signed with tears

 

 

 

 

Just a Poem

I went begging for alms by the road
from sunrise till sundown
nothing did come my way

late that evening I met a man

richly dressed riding a horse
I counted myself so blessed
for meeting him

when he came near

I went towards him with a basket full of hope
praying he would be kind enough
to get from him the best things life could offer

when I closed on him he asked if I had

something to offer him
he was so hungry and could hardly talk
I looked down into my bag
I had a sandwich given me late that noon

when I gave it to him he bowed so low

in order to thank me
his heart was so glad for the meal

when I got home I emptied my bag

I still had the chocolate of yesterday
I was sad for not giving him this too
and as I pondered over the meeting
something came into my mind
how fortunate I am even in my situation

Birds of the Same Feather Fly Together

Not everyone can keep up in a race. You'll be in synch with some and not with others. When you fall some will get you and some won't. When you miss your steps and fall, some friends will speak a “foreign language” and never your thoughts shall this language discern. But, there is pleasure in the moment when kindred spirits traveling this plane meet and meld minds. Can there be any greater quench of mental thirst than this? Seek a mirror for your mind. Do not just go with the wind. Test the tides as they ebb and flow and not just fall or settle for anything. My Grandma used to say, "Show me your friends and I will tell you a lot about your character." Or have we not heard it said that, birds of the same feather flock together?

When Masters Meet

When lifted minds engage
be wise, let neophytes beware
The action that ensues
awes those unschooled in such affairs

When sages wield their saber wit
let students watch and learn
Each word and thought will parry, thrust
and give strength in return

When adepts interact
they first will seek a strange rapport
And some will see the duel
and mistake it for a war

A master knows a master
for the cream has its own code
And language is the means
by which their greatness is bestowed

There is no quest for dominance
and neither fears defeat
It’s iron sharpening iron
every time that masters meet!

Lets Do Some Self-Evaluation

Another day is with us and I want us to do self-evaluation. During a recent interview I was asked what has been the greatest milestone and accomplishment in my life. Sure, this can also mean the greatest milestone and accomplishment at your workplace, in your marriage or any relationship. I replied honestly that "the greatest milestone and accomplishment was actually the departure from accusing others for problems in my life to accepting responsibilities for my inaction, indecision and lack of awareness. Everything else since that departure has been "very creamy and gravy" As Ronnie Millsap sung, "I Wouldn't Have Missed It For the World!"  I feel the same way! Lets take that decision and witness to ourselves the joy in your change. At first you may doubt yourself with "if" But over time, that "if" will go away.

Gravy and Creamy

What if things never get better?
What if my life stays the same?
What if each day despite effort and pain
its the same game, the same game, the same game?

Well, I promised myself I'd make changes
for that fear was what haunted my mind
So I searched high and low for a means to escape
to find sustenance of a rare kind

Next I harnessed my passion as fuel
called my talents and training to bear
Changed my thoughts and self image to build courage for leaving
with others whose vision I share

I soon found a huge door left wide open
with the promise of freedom beyond
So I cut loose and bolted with no second thoughts
before fear, friends or fame could respond

My commitment was never in question
"forward ever" this mantra of mine
My return on this path was just never an option
so success was a matter of time

And I weathered all life could throw at me
found the lessons in all I endured
Never once felt regret for deciding to try
never once let my dreams get obscured

When you honor the strength of commitment
to embark on the life of your dream
You'll find one day of freedom's worth ninety-nine bound
each day after is just gravy and cream

 

 

 

 

It’s Time for New Beginning

Many of us are in bondage within ourselves but we don’t know it. What could you accomplish once free of the ropes of resentment, the bondage of blame, and the fetters of fear? There's freedom in forgiveness of a nature you can't know, until you take the time to cut the chains and just let go.

A time for new beginnings

From baby years to present fears
let sinners be redeemed
Then lucky eyes will see
that things aren't always as they seemed

A cosmic shift, a needed gift
when all the stars align
And clouds reveal the long lost sun
that's been there all the time

Forgiven past, a brand new cast
your lesson is at hand
But dwellers in denial
miss their chance to understand

Embrace the new, a different view
let go of blame and shame
It's time for new beginnings
seek your glory stake your claim!

 

 

 

Try Peeling the Onion

Supposing it were the nature of God (or whoever you conceive it to be) to allow us to see the miracle growth of a single flower, from seed to its budding and flowering, our whole approach to life would change. Today I want to caption our dialogue, peeling The Onion. I love seeing my Grandma in the kitchen peeling the onion and this reminds me of human life in general.

Human psyche, like the onion is almost infinitely complex, made up of layers upon layers of thoughts, experiences, emotions, fears, loves, and goals. Those who seek to find the true essence of their being or to move past a fear find that there are many intermediate steps along the way. When we first look inward, we look at ourselves as a whole, when in fact we are only seeing the surface. Like an onion, if we move past the surface, we will find another layer. Moving past that, we find yet another layer. These layers are barriers and everyone has them. You may work past one fear only to be confronted with a deeper, underlying fear. Or you may fully assimilate a revelation about a friend, someone you care about only to find other aspects of that revelation that you had not discovered. How many layers you will confront before finding a resolution is unknown. This is the journey, this is life. Whether you are in love, in the academia or what, it is true to life.

But the journey to the center of the onion—what life is all about--can be an enlightening experience in and of itself. As you break through each barrier in life, you gain a more profound understanding of your own mind and come to learn the unique facets that make up who you are. You will become intimately acquainted with your needs and wants, reactions, aversions, pleasures, and pains in order to achieve your goals. Through that you will discover qualities within you that have been buried by the years or by old hurts. This knowledge is cumulative. As you break through one barrier and confront the next, oftentimes more powerful, barrier, you will be equipped with the knowledge of self mastery that you have gained during your searching.

During the "peeling of the onion," you may feel frustrated because it can seem like progress is slow or nonexistent. But don't let the multitude of layers bother you. Many of the qualities that make us who we are may be hidden at first. The process can continue indefinitely, for with self-discovery comes growth and thus further discovery. The more you learn, the more you will inevitably find, as you travel deeper and deeper within your soul. And remember, be bold, firm, resolute and weather every pattern of challenges. Just be the master of your fate and the captain of your soul.

Weather Patterns

Folks will flake and flakes will fall
there's nothing you can do
People post their patterns for you
often in plain view

The chance of showers now
as in the past is much the same
Get caught out in the downpour
and you've no one else to blame

Decide to weather patterns
unprepared and you might lose
But heed the telling forecast
and my friend, you'll never lose!

 

 

 

The Art of Transformation

Today, I want us to think about certain situations in life. For example, if you're not happy with the way things are in your life, what do you do? I think you MUST take some sort of step in the direction of transformation.

The key, however, is not to see the loss of money, relationships or power as a MAD venture, for you to relapse into certain habits (that can be related to as insane) as an indication that the path chosen doesn't work. Remember, the path is not what's on trial, here. For every path will have challenges. Every path will have risks. What's being tested is you and your ability to rise above those challenges, and act despite those risks, and to learn from the consequences of those choices and actions, and MOVE FORWARD afterwards. As I've said before, this whole game of life is a game called "believe" and the act of changing a belief system you've had all your life can be a long journey. But then, the beauty in transforming your life (either from it was to what you want it to be or what your enemies thought it should be to what God wants it to be for you) is like beauty of the painting on a wall that endears itself to the heart and soul of people from all walks of life. Achieving your dreams can become profoundly great when you master the art of transformation, past the borders of your present beliefs.

There are steps to making this transformation a reality. First find some friends to feed you with hope (most men are stuck on "nay"). But be careful whom you chose as friends. There are masses that dine on curdled dreams. Feast not from their buffet. Then find a path to venture on. Test the path too for most paths will do. The trick is to commit to walk despite what you go through. In all, do not accept friends who would like to ride with you in the limousine but can’t walk with you for the rest of the journey when the limousine breaks down.

The Art of Transformation at the Borders of Belief

You promised yourself better, yes?
and talked a real good game
But all these years have come and gone
and things still stay the same

You've dilled with the victims
And you've dilled while you yearn
You've journeyed to the border
just to gaze, sigh and return

Perhaps today's the day you'll cross
And leave this phase behind
So heed these words for travelers
to foreign states of mind

First find some friends to feed you hope
(most men are stuck on "nay")
The masses dine on curdled dreams
feast not from their buffet

Then find a path to venture forth
most any path will do
The trick is to commit to walk
despite what you go through

Embarrassment will come to pass
and risk is how we grow
Regret's a dish best left un-served
and wow will follow woe

One day you'll find the beauty
that exists beyond the grief:
The art of transformation
past the borders of belief

 

 

 

After Thousand Years of Drought

You’ve heard it said that, “Where there is a way, there is hope.” I know it's been a long time since you have kept hope by your side.  But are you sure you dug deep enough with hope in your loins? Keep hoping and take the time to prepare yourself for the bounty that will soon be yours. Never be frustrated by what someone said that, “Things that come to those who wait may be things left by those who got there first.” Have you forgotten what my Grandma said, “He who laughs last, laughs best”? Please, your river cometh soon. Good things come to them that trust, wait and hope and dig deep while you wait. Soon your river of good tiding will be cutting through the earth and rushing towards you.

 Dig Deep While You Wait

It seemed close to forever
since some water touched these lips
No way or well I'd found to drink
despite a thousand trips

I saw oases all around
illusions in the air
And rushed headlong in frantic bliss
to grasp at things not there

In sheer and utter hopelessness
I stopped to dig a pit
To bury my frustrations
and to bury me in it

Then rumbles in the distance
caught my ear, I turned to see
A river cutting through the earth
and rushing towards ME!

The once-parched ground steamed hot with hope
and belched a thousand sighs
It filled the pit I'd dug around me
right before my eyes!

I splashed and drank and waded
ever curious as I basked
"Why river, did it take so long
to find me?" soon I asked

"For years I've tried," the river said,
"to reach you in your drought,
At times I almost did
but you were running all about!"

So next time that you seek, friend
curse not others or your fate
Just stop a while and use the time
to dig deep while you wait

 

 

 

What Is the License to Happiness

While driving home late last night I noticed a fellow driver's personalized license plate that read LVB4UDIE. Interestingly, my friend interpreted it as "love" before you die. I thought the owner intended it as "live" before you die. In the final analysis, however, it probably doesn't matter since I suggest to you today that doing one is the only way to do the other. In other words, the only way to truly live, and elevate the soul beyond the vibrations of it's mortal confines, is to engage in activities that feed it and help it grow--namely love. So make it your mission to find someone to love. It might be a child, a parent, a partner. Love, and the ability to love that often follows forgiveness can be the thing that makes our present moment experiences worth all the pain and suffering we may have ever experienced. (And, as Marianne Williamson said in her book Return To Love, "We are not held back by the love we didn't receive in the past, but by the love we're not extending in the present.")

LVB4UDIE

Let's start off with the answer
so at least we'll both be clear
There's got to be a purpose, friend
a reason we're all here

It's more than just survival
that's too basic, all agreed?
For once you've got that covered
there's a soul still left to feed

So what shall be your mission
so you'll say you've truly lived?
How best to capture grains of time
that pass right through life's sieve?

To me the answer's easy
for just few things really matter
And given choice of shape or soul
I'd have to choose the latter

See, cash alone won't cut it
but you'd best not do without
And power can move mountains
but it's not what life's about

And freedom's good for getting
but no fun if it's just you
You'll need others to share
So serving others ranks high too

But one thing reigns supreme
and trumps all others on this quest
The act of giving love
is what shall make our life its best

For fleeting are the trappings
and with shells shall pass away
But spirit grows eternal
be the love we share today

For by our true and present love
our pasts we nullify
The only way to live, therefore
is love before you die

 

 

 

What Is Your Fear About

Fear (fear of failure or perhaps fear of success) has been such a paralyzing factor in everybody's life and so we have to commit ourselves to change and overcome that challenge. We all have fears now and then, here-and-there. There are two passions that I have been drawn to pursue and I have been blessed with souls who have dedicated love and time to my efforts. The first is my love of poetry and my strong desire to use my poems to help people feel good about the lives we live. In the quest of celebrating life in my own way, I seek the wisdom of others, through poetry and through other artistic expressions...which led to the creation of this Friday Inspirations. In this pursuit, I've found that sometimes my role is quite simply to show up to let others know I too, I am human, I leapt, I lost, then licked it, woke up, jumped up and I lived to tell the tale of how I emerged victorious even when my head was bloody but unbowed. It's the little push I give to serve as inspiration to get others rolling again.

 An Easy Roll

 Sometimes when you're lost
and you start giving in to fear
All you really need to know
is yes, the road's still there

Sometimes when the engine's on
but wheels just don’t seem to spin
A touch is all it takes
to free you from the mess you're in

Sometimes when your vision's blocked
beyond the crests and turns
Reminders of your goal appear
and clarity returns

Yes, sometimes on this road called life
the easy role you play
Is giving hope by meeting
those who've yet to make their way

Just knowing those who traveled
who're alive to tell the tale
Makes possible the dream
you too can prosper and prevail!

 

 

Treasure Your Heritage or Where You Come From

Is the grass always greener on the other side? Have you ever thought so? I have. I don't know why, I feel that way anytime I hear of a new job, when a new location/residential area is mentioned to me, or a new friend comes my way. I feel like something is missing from my old life and I yearn for the new, and I don't know why I feel that grass is greener at that side. What I do know actually is, it's going to be some sort of greater purpose or career, job or love satisfaction. I then recline into a dream, looking forward to the lawyer lifestyle. I want to feel like I'm working towards some greater goal than just working at some chichi private firm. This is the feeling that takes me over, when I first heard about America when I was in Ghana.

HOME AGAIN

we venture out of our birthplace,
when we feel we hit the dead end
we wave goodbye to our loved ones
and try to forget some we loved

away from home we celebrate all that’s new
but the surprise is the shock and hurt in the new
deep in tears we hear a voice from our past
memories of home come flooding back

soon we tend to forget the new
and wish to go back home again
back at home we realize the past is dead,
we have been away for far too long

Don't Let Anything Change You

Today, I want to encourage you with these words: Don't let any thing that comes your way Change You or Don't Let Anyone's Vindictive Words and Vicious Actions Change You. Think About This...........Believe it or not, it's been shown that while mankind is essentially good, there is a contingent of about 20% (one-fifth) of the population who are here to wreak havoc on the other innocent 80% (four-fifths) of mankind. (Don't worry, if you're even reading this kind of inspiring thought, you're probably in the 80% or you may be in the 20% unknowingly). No matter what, don't let the vicious ways and vindictive words of the 20% blind you to the beauty, hope, kindness and caring that exist in others around you. Don't equally adopt their destructive ways of being in retaliation. Maintain the beauty of your spirit, the kindness in your heart and the friendliness in your demeanor. There is no reality save for that which we accept and buy into. My Grandma used to say, there are two ways of spreading light, to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it. Be a light unto the path of others and not like the man who because his pride is slighted vows to destroy other peoples' life. Live your life purely so that it is through your eyes, your words and ways that the world can see its kinder gentler self. Reciprocity is not a requirement for conviction, any more than a mirror makes you who you are. Maintain the reality of who you wish to be and soon your world will reflect and become you. Therein lies prosperity.

Don't Let Anything Change You

One-fifth of man will find ways to suppress the other four
that seems to be their purpose, nothing less, and nothing more
Your mission, on the other hand, is clear beyond all doubt
Despite what men may do, don't let them change what you're

 For happy men must smile, and gifted men must give
your purpose is to be the change you want the world to live
And activists and advocates must act and raise their voice
for only by example will you give the world a choice

At times you'll think it futile and you'll want to pack it in
When good men choose do nothing is all bad men need to win
For slow it seems a brick a day is how new worlds are made
But with each act of kindness is a new foundation laid

And those of us who comment on the flaws of one man's way
must watch our words for so shall we create our world's delay
The minute that you start to say "that's just the way it is,"
you've lost hope in your world, you've joined him there in his

The minute that they break you, friend, their side goes up by one
And you become the very thing you say you want undone
As Gandhi said, "an eye for eye leaves everyone quite blind."
Don't let them douse your spirit, fire, beauty, gifts or mind!

 

 

 

Life Is a Matter of Survival

Life is a matter of survival. In this world we meet different people every day. Each of them leaves profound impressions on our lives. Some rub you the wrong way even before they say a word to you. Others bring you joy and happiness never before experienced. Whatever side they show, they affect you and leave you with something to always remember. But, how they affect you depends on who we think they are. Some could be the victims of stereotypes, playing into unwarranted fears, or simply resisting the personal growth that interaction with other persons may offer. On the other hand, sometimes that inexplicable feeling that this person is "bad news" may be your instinctive response to danger or what you are forced to believe and that is what you try to honor, hone and hold on to. Sometimes, our views of people from other cultures are clouded by perceptions we receive from others. And that affects how we could love them or enter relationships of a sort with them. How many times have you found too late that your initial response was valid or invalid? How many times have you come to lately realize you were wrong and said 'I should have listened to my own gut'?  Many hearts are always broken by our perceptions that the future with such “other” persons will yield no pleasant fruit. Well, it is not easy to let someone into your life who elicits a gut reaction in people who may tell you to stay away. No one can blame you for being judgmental and unfair too. Life is a matter of survival. But if your love is strong you two could weather every hail and storm no matter the consequences.

A Matter of Survival

It's not all that unusual to think things with your gut
despite the tendency of men to trust in all things and fail

That visceral response to man and things keeps you secure
a remnant of survival skills in fact that's what it's for

In ancient days it honed your knack to choose to fight or flee
it mattered not if justified by things that you could see

 It's not being judgmental, quite the opposite in fact
it saves you from the weight of thoughts that might keep you off track

 So careful to trust in impression, or trust the way people make you feel
for nine times out of ten you'll find it's borne out as quite unreal.

 

 

THE STORM OF LIFE

Into every life a little rain must fall. How we deal with that rain is what determines our future. Sometimes humanity shines brightest under inhumane conditions, because from nauseating humus springs the most beautifully flourished lilies of our valleys. So, when the storm of life ravages through your world, you must not throw in the towel and give in to tears. Instead, reexamine your steps in life and chart a new roadmap for your existence. Remember, our life is an accumulation of our past, both good and bad. So, too, is the way we see it. That is why an unexamined life is not worth living. At times, we all search for meaning in our lives, often in vain. Perhaps the answer is not to find meaning, but to give it, its meaning. I say this because, life is filled with choices, and where we call "home" or your “workplace” is just one of them. How you design your house to be a home to fit your lifestyle, your taste and stature or personality in this world is your own choice. In making or redesigning your “home,” remember in times of desperation, what we seek cannot be easily found. It is in those desperate moments that our lives move from dreams to nightmares regardless what we do. But then, we must not be discouraged. We must just make anew each day of our lives by brightening each corner of it. Have you noticed that life doesn't just exist? By definition, it lives. And that inevitably means growth. Above all, be yourself. What we call life is a long series of discrete events, all leading to one all-important discovery. And what we call misery in life is relentless until you seek to silence it by finding harmony within ourselves and the world around us. I have come to believe that we are often shaped as much by the pain in our life as well as by the joys. And your pain, no matter how real, is but a small drop in an ocean of all miseries. So, set your eyes on tomorrow. And note, if life is like a rose, then what about the thorns? So, cheer yourself up. No one will do it for you. Let us pray.........

My Prayer

long as the morning sun rises from the east,
the Light that wakens man and beast
the Hand that pats the shoulder

and restores light and hope in every soul
the Arm that darkness can never deface
will take man through another day
draw his soul from every slumber
walk him through every burning wood
He will tender the furrowed cheek
brace the weary soul
to catch the dew of another dawn
He will nestle the broken-hearted
bathe the despairing in the warmth of hope
till there are smiles again
like the petals of a morning flower

Misconceptions

African boy,
he ain't got shoes except blues
works all day and hopes to play
like others in the sun
with a face that's tan but
at the end of the day, when work is done
he ain't got anything but blues

yet, like a bird on a wire

like a drunk in a midnight choir
making a living out of black-land dirt
he has tried in ways to be free
like a bird out of a cage

like a fish on a hook

like a knight from an old fashioned book
like a baby stillborn
like a beast with his horns
no one reaches out for him

yet, like a beggar
leaning on a wooden crutch
like a soul hanging on a darkened door
he saved his ribbons for you
and got your bills when you don't own his ills

the African boy,

he ain't got anything to lose
when you watch him squirm
put him on a hook and you drop him in a brook
everything's gonna turn out just right,

tonight you'll see him fry fish

with his eyes dancing with the stars

To my Children: A Dedication

to you my children whose love I forever will sing
in the songs of silence

and to you, who gathers my tears and bury them
beneath the earth crust and rain joy each morn
on the desert fields of my agony
I sing these notes in memory of you

these are rhymes graciously strung with intent
than words that are scentless but ageless with love

they sing for you in a passion of dearness
and they come from a song-less tongue
who in the deepening of dawn awakes
with warm wild winter winds with a love
to sing you songs in silence and to celebrate
floods of dreams nursed for you

today the dreams are freed by storms
and the floodgates are loosened by desires
that the heart may pour out torrents of love
stored in the heart many seasons ago

come lets harvest dreams and drive
sleeping selves out of swarms and move
through grieves to joy-fields praising the Moon
who stood by a father’s dream till the sun arrived

 

Tears and Cries

these tears
pour down like rain
covering my cheeks like a blanket
as they run down my face

no one knows
the pain hidden deep within them

no one knows the scars

buried deep in my soul
or why these tears burn and sting
as they pour out

walking through the rain
I try to forget the pain
I try to ignore the sting in my eyes

like many of my age

we lost our fathers before our puberty rituals
but losing a familiar face in an unknown place
leaves you not knowing nothing about you and your past

I heard many die after the rituals

but I also heard you aren’t a man without the rites

now, I know why I run from my fears
and I know why I’m followed by my tears

I want to leave this unfamiliar place
but where will I go without a father
or without a mother who left the dawn after my birth

trying to release the fears I locked away for days
only runs me into a sea of storms

never knowing when there will be a closure
all I could do is to cry myself to sleep
although I want to know more about me and my past

Why Can't you let me go?

you stand behind that old brown curtain
dressed as always in that Dana-Buchman-Twisted-Ponte
dress stained from sweats and dungs from the armpits
wanting to teach me the two-step and a turn dance
while stroking your rump in my face at every turn
and you don’t want me to pick up my suitcase and go

you want me to smooth the hair back from your forehead
and kiss your neck with longings enough to make cows blink
you said you need my help like we need the jukebox for free
that’s why you grab my bag and nod to me to enter the house
to unpack the sack while you continue to stroke your rump
in my face till I can’t tell the river from the rain

then you undressed, and put on your red Sweet-Sixteen
lingerie and asked me to unzip you because you like that
you then pulled down the straps of my shirt
and unbuttoned my pants before I could ask a question
why do you do these things to me when you know
we both belong to somebody else and we can’t give
each other anything anymore than just a wink

often when alone I think about you
and wish you could call before anyone gets home
moments like this I wait anxiously by the phone
and wish you were here but, when I think the more
about you and me I ask myself many questions
how could something so wrong be so right
but I hate to think about us not together

why do you these things to me when you know
we both belong to somebody else and we can’t give
each other anything anymore than just a wink
I know it will break our hearts than the burning at the stake
but we can’t safely keep this secret for long and I can’t
secretly shuffle back and forth through your door every time

why can’t you let me grab my bag and go

 

To Ashes

fading is the writing on the page
the paper graying with age
the age of innocence and love almost dead
but the bookmark stands at where
it all begun

the blurring inscribes where once
it was novelty, soaring cozily
memories flash back puzzles
in quest of where the story glide
flapping wings like the hummingbird

with the writing fading
each page begins to wane and mourn
with the paper's corner shriveling

and I shall not see those words again
except the ashes in the bin

 

It's not about the Journey

it is not the walk that is tiring
rather when you go for a walk
and see the tearing down of green
tall trees for a football field and
suddenly you realize this was
the same place the village once
gathered and asked for rain from
the Diviner’s Bag and from the single
sitting the gasping earth had its fill and
seeds flowered rich buds and there was
drumming and dancing in the village I recoil
and remember Akpalu who was comforted
in exile by thoughts of our forgetfulness

only yesterday for instance prayers bloomed
beneath this baobab tree outside the village courtyard
I remember how mothers brought boiled eggs and palmoil
to the grotto and when at last their wishes were heard before
the next dawn they leaped like a wild dog with outbursts of pride
knowing too well their sufferance nourished their dreams

but today long dusty roads stretch from Abor to Tsiame
and young ones clap hands over wine parties and throw
dust into the face of the moon I remember the gourds
of palmwine that once lined the bosom of this baobab tree
and we harvested joy with our feet and heart with music
it is not the dusty road that is tiring but how we plunge into things
too eagerly like a powerful dog not stopping for anything
and now after the wine parties generations are scattered on
distant farms selling nothing but sorrows at deserted spaces

I thought I would grow old with fond thoughts of home
but I’m old and full of sadness with thoughts of the
transience of life hoping for a cool day beyond the skies

Reflection 27

this life is but a stopping place,
between the womb and the tomb
a resting place along the road
the road to sweet eternity

we all have different journeys
and destined paths along this road
our experiences also differ
but in them we learn lessons

what these lessons mean
we never may know till we reach
our destination where our tears will melt
and who we are is revealed

and when we meet He who sent us
we'll claim a great reward
according to how we faired
with the crosses in our experiences

so, until our journey nears its end
and till we hear the angels sing
lets face each new day as it comes
and feed on the love left by our fathers

 

A PLEA

My father’s God, here we come, carrying a million crucifixes of shame, kneeling on a dunghill needing a cure for our dead selves. We are exiles unsure of whom we are or where we are going; and vaguely are we aware of what we have lost, having been so long away from home. Those we left behind are gone beyond the horizon; their children and children’s children cannot even remember our names. Where once stood our house is now a football field and where once we gathered and called on the ancestors is now in ruins. The fences that once hemmed in our souls have been eaten by termites. Hardly can we now stand on our feet to bury our dead with the weeping and dirges of our grandmothers. Sometimes, the dead stare into our faces and wonders where the drunken pallbearers were going. My father’s God, we have wandered away from peace and love and lost our joys in the sand.

God of my fathers, we have come home to cleanse ourselves, to look for where they buried our birth cords only to meet a man with a huge testicle in our mother’s bed. Everywhere are dead goats and cattle while vultures hover above singing halleluyas in the hideous voice of trumpets. Where do we go from here when the ashes in our mothers’ hearth are dead cold?

Will the fire-god in heaven rekindle a new spirit in us, or he will lock his ears and turn his face away?