I Love the Rain

Whenever it rains, I feel so free
Like a bird, that I want to kiss the rain.

I see the rain washing away our quandaries
Quenching our sun baked soul.

While others rush for cover under eaves
I let the rain beat upon my head like a song

Last night the rain played a sleep song on our roof
It made me love the rain more.

I wish it will rain every Friday

To make pools on the sidewalks and we all sleep.

To Whom It May Concern

To whom it may concern:

The words stood long by his side

Like a watchdog at the entrance of memory
This is how he will be remembered.
When they say the last farewell.

He stood looking as if he was solidified
He remembered his dreams for his children
On the verge of difficulties where he saw death

Where he lived without life and faced terror

And danced through profound darkness.

Yet, before the sun set coldly that noon
One walked to his window and looked at him

You are not my father, my father is God in the sky
How odd, he thought, to be blessed with a cuff

But of course, he was blessed to know it now.

To whom it may concern:

The words stood long by his side

And he remembered the journey, the tight pants
The sea-lions barking, and he smiled at her

Who saw a doctor of misery in the father.

You can’t have what you want

We all want what we don't have, and such is life.

We all want to go to heaven but can’t afford to die.
Often our favored doors are under lock and keys.
The beautiful apple on the hill is too high to pluck,
What song shall we sing when we can’t have it all?

No one is happy at where he or she is,
There's greener grass in the neighbor’s yard.

Some want to be happy, but can’t afford the pain
We all want a bigger house and a faster car,
We want to hear the truth, but tell lies each time.

We want the world, but is there room enough in the world?

We all wish love doesn't hurt, since it’s meant to be forever.
What do you do, when your best friend is your worst enemy?
Or when saying goodbye is such a painful word, since often

Unwanted pregnancies stick harder than leeches?

I want to be the face you see when you close your eyes
I want to be the tad you need every night when it’s cold
I want to mean your world, to want you burn like a charm

But you make me like a tree in the shadow, like a river frozen.
How can we live when I want you to need me like the air,

But everything I do is a seamless rock, and not what you want.

Meeting Him Riding in the Clouds

(for Agbonugla Kofi Awoonor)

His memory stares at me, dreamy and melancholic

On his head is a tiara adorning a charming face. 
He turns gently his head towards the gathering
A single tear fell from his tender daring eyes 

It carries the anguished burden of a world.
I bowed and saluted him and our eyes spoke.

With a nod he protested the muddle his father’s house

Why trained dogs bark to veil any cries of the people 
Why there are segregated benches in the lecture halls

Why they tortured and broke the legs of the innocent.
And he held up the sign: The Writing is on the Wall
Saying as he prayed: Soon this too shall pass

Before he left, he planted on me nature’s sweetest hug 

From the banks of the clouds the moon gazed at us

I welcomed the farewell, but I shuddered, I stuttered,

And the closer he gets, the further I fall sadly into the mist

Around my terror-stricken ears he whispered his last words

Then he went past into the twilight unseen beyond

* AGBONUGLA: Is an Ewe word for an elder statesman
   KOFI AWOONOR: One of Africa's leading poets, a novelist,
   a statesman who was murdered by the terrorist attack in the
   Kenyan Mall incident on September 21, 2013, Nairobi, Kenya

Here they come again with the Hashtag

Everywhere people are shedding tears

Their cities are burning, and families are mourning

But they could not be comforted.

Each day mothers and fathers worry

About their children leaving home and never returning.

Men and women, black as me, are the fallen victims,

Those they trust rather snare them to death

Whom do you trust when the protector is the perpetrator?

And the law stands by while the pain intensifies.

Remember Emmett Till, Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice,

Freddie Gray, Eric Garner, and Mike Brown.

How many miles more to walk to Selma?

And they looked into the tall sky till they dropped:

Lord, how long will righteousness come?

How long will their hopes die in the rain? 

The Jewel

This morning you and I are being toasted

In every alley of the village because you are mine. 
The day I met you was a wish come true for the women. 

Grandma says: your smile brings out the best in the village,
The women also say you are the greatest gift ever.
It’s the way you smile and laugh and show your love.

Ever since you came, the sky shows a new shade of blue. 
It is brighter, like the gods are revealing their feelings;
And we melt every day when we look into your eyes. 

With you we will make it through every thick and thin;
As long as you are with me like the pea is to the pod, 

Our heart will grow together to weather every storm.  

One thing do I ask of you: can you never say never;

Can you always be loving and kind, so gentle, and so sweet, 
And with you by my side, life will be simply complete.

How do I carry you with me?

On and on, going on and on,

I live apart from you

Thousand miles of the ocean is between us;
who knows when we’ll meet again?

Day by day the wait grows faint into the distance,
Day by day shifting clouds block the face of hope.

Though the traveler yearns for a feast on the return.

Thinking of you and the years that go by makes one old

Lost and abandoned, I will say no more,
but pluck up strength and drink my tears.

Unreturning

I’ve been acquainted with the night before,

But I walked out of its rain to the furthest end

I know why I did not call back or say goodbye

The music I heard with you was not my music,
The bread I broke with you was not my kind of bread;
Now that I’m no more the luminary clock on the wall
All that was once so beautiful is dead in the mind.

It is Agbozume-laga who said, he needs no interrupted cries

What dropped his eye this dawn he is unwilling to explain,

But anyone who comes to the twilight knows leaves whisper.

Once your hands touched this table, this plate and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass a dozen times
But these things do not remember you, the once beloved,
Your joy crushed out the day and our dead fear to return home.

Before his helpless sight, Agbozume-laga had dreams

You plunged at him, guttered him, choked him and drowned him

You placed his dreams behind the wagon and hang his writhed face

It’s not the landing on strange beach under a broken sky

But besides the salty herb, it was the lengthening biting sun
A heart that’s cold and wild, and doesn’t remember anything.

Please, be careful where you step; the grave is so wide.

The Year Is Now Dead, What Next?

We have come to where the sidewalk ends

And tonight, when the dreary bell rings at Midnight

Each of us will ponder over each second of our days

When we were weak and weary yet life went on

Some with thanksgiving will remember God’s grace

Like many mothers mourning for their children in the storms

Others like wives bereft of husbands and fathers singing dirges
For the loss of their flesh, with their spirit misplaced in tears

While blissfully some drums would thrill with champagne

In august and royal homes where lights glow, yet we can’t forget
Songs of sorrow the music of desolation of many wearing masks
Just to drown their songs of lamentations carried for miles

Do you remember how you once baked bread with your sweat

Then dare not to forget and never forget the ABCD of our lives

Armory, Bullet, Calamity, Devastation in “I can’t breathe”

They walk through lives of children of our Motherland

You may have experienced freedom from want
But I understand freedom has more colors than one
In fact more than I can explain today or tomorrow

In the Mouth of Wealth there are wounded souls

Can we have God with songs in the future

Straighten limbs of men and women to glow

Enter into tomorrow where life's visions never vanish

And dreams live on and we no more bath in tears

Will you celebrate the me and mine and sing of the self again

Let’s leave behind that place where the smoke blows dim

To go to where our desires are and our hopes profound

Now that the Old Year is dead and a New Year is born

Let’s go to where the moon shall be bright when we are dust

To where the stars are starry in the time of our darkness

Let’s pause now at the place where the sidewalk ends with all

And on the new street we dance with our innermost hearts out

Where Will I Be Without You?

Yesterday and today are both present in tomorrow

And should tomorrow start without me
Or should the sun rise and I’m no longer by your side

Will I find your eyes filled with tears

As life without you is like a starless night

I know you love me much as I love you
But when tomorrow starts without me
Or you are told an angel came and took my hand
That my place was ready in heaven far above

Will me without you be like a colorless rainbow

For all my life you’ve always been on my mind
And I had so much to live for in your heart
It seems almost impossible I could live without you.
So when I think of today and what tomorrow will bring 

Where will I be without you if not a beach without a sand

I’ve always thought of the love we shared,

And if I could live just for a while
My only treasured possession is your smile

Which I want to take with me wherever I’ll be
But I realized nothing did I bring nor will take away

The emptiness and memories of me would bring tears

And the silence will blossom like tumors on lips

When you think you heard my footsteps on the stairs

So when tomorrow starts without me by your side

Let your smiles see me at home beyond heaven’s gates

Where is the Love?

How do we go from here to love

When violence wrecks our nations
When indifference is the gain of pledges

How do we go from here to cherished hope

When corruption is the order of the day

Around us are war, hunger and destructions

Everywhere unity is just a word on lips

And grinding of teeth the order of society

Where is the love when mothers nightly cry

And the bereaved can’t be comforted

Around the world I see countries

And families torn apart by war and strife

I can’t see peace when the people are not free

Where is the love that blows in the gentle breeze

That every soul can breathe a sigh with smiles

Where is the love when children disappear
And fathers are lost in deep agony

Where do we go from here to hope

When darkness becomes our companion
And our land is watered by bloodshed

Where do we go from here to love

When the land is uncertain of what next to come

When the haunting past storms into the present

And the future mourns of its failed mission
Can we find love again before hot sun overwhelms us

Where is laughter when defeat is our destiny
And how can we get to seasons of hope
When the sun sadly walks us by to its place
And our tears become the cloak of our existence
Oh Lord, where is the love they promised

Her Journey Just Begun

don't think of Ablavi as gone
her journey has just begun
life holds many facets and the Earth is only one
therefore, think of Mother as resting
from the sorrows and the tears
in a place of warmth and comfort
where there are no days nor years

think how she must be wishing
that we know, life brings tears, smiles and memories
and though our tears may dry, and our smile fade
it is only our memories that live on forever

so we must think of her as living,
living in the hearts of those she touched
for nothing loved is ever lost-
and she was loved so much

so, don’t stand by and grieve and weep
she is not here nor dead
she is the thousand winds that blow in the veldt
she is the diamond glints on the sky
like the sunlight on ripened grain

she is the soft refreshing rain
that falls on a hot summer afternoon
and when we awake in the morning's hush
she is the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight
she is the star that shines at night
to bring you a smile that none can steal
when death leaves a heartache no one can heal

To my Ancestors

my silence salutes the tall Dreams

of the Dead who withdrew from here
to roam over fine mountains and
frighten hawks reshaping my dreams

sometime the sound and throbs of their breath
is a rage of blood in eons of anger with stones and axes
at times they come as Fumes of Smoke
on a Dark Noon to take me across rivers of Solitude

but I sometimes wonder if while tip-toeing

in the fog of foreign suits we have not lost sight

of the ancestors' humorous laughs

at the steps we place in the quicksand 

and call ourselves special names

sometimes I stroll around the roundabout of my memory
when carving affections for my dead soul
in unforgettable words like a master-butcher

who picks up the axe and dismembers parts of goat-meat

that tastes so good and says, tonight there will be another party
with champagnes in place of palm wine

I have grown sick of songs of sorrow
I want to cross the rivers of solitude
sing new songs of joy to celebrate the past and present
and sing and dance in gratitude for life at Home

but will my ancestors be accustomed to forgiving me
every day for the loss of my Soul
the Soul lost in the fog of foreign suits

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