CRYING SUN

I have washed

My towel with my own tears

Yet the ocean in my eyes

Is still not dry

I will continue to wail

Wail to flood my path

Wail to mourn

My heart wounds

That was tortured

With an excruciating rod

That widened its aura of sorrow

My hopes are bleeding

When I have by passed

The menstruation of assurance

I will carry my eyes

All day long in my hand

To avoid seeing

The heinous profane lyrical tunes

Danced by all

Including the apostles  

Of right thinking thought

I have sealed my mouth

Not as to imitate the dumb

But to keep

My aggrieved thought alone

To myself

I see the pot of peace

Broken on the altar

Of rugged rocky ground

Spilling it content

To the skull tongue

That licks off our joy

Into the tantrum hungry stomach

Of the cruel head

Their eyes blink

Hatred

Agony

Frustration

Bitterness

And rudeness

And they decorate their thoughts

With wickedness

They trade hardship

In a garnished ways

To their fellow beings

And console them with deceit

Oh! What a metaphorical world?

Tethering peace

To a dying tree

Arise and raise ruin walls

Of black mother from rickety

Ye heirs of the black soil

HE WALKED THE PATH

I have come to pour you tears

From the ancestral gourd

That was broken yesterday

By the ancient terror

Whose identity is anonymous

The unforeseen visitor

Who always light sorrowful lamps on our tables

You turned our taste sour

You primordial merchant of pain

Your departure has left us on crossroads

Our tears are drowning us

You left the stage

When the applause was so high

You vanished like a diffused vapour in the thin air

My pen is crying

With its ink painting doleful words

Our hearts still ache

Like how we writhed the early cut

On our umbilical cord

Oh! Who will wake up the town crier?

From his nap to subpoena his people

The sun has taken asylum in

The house of darkness

Fire is making peace with water

We pay thee profound homage

To your eternal journey

To Odomankoma

Fare thee well Komla

Nantse yie; Dumor

Light of Ghanaian journalism

Spear of African media

You crossed the river without a canoe

You lampooned our joy with your sudden transition

You have set us on

Lamentation altar

With our hearts invaded with agony

Why did you deceive us?

With your grinning smiles

Only to part our friendship

With untold story

That pressed down the balls

Of mighty warriors into nothing within dust

You indeed sneaked through

The narrow hole of the ancient gate

To join yesterday’s ancestors

On the shores of immortality

Awaiting for the sound of the divine bell

That will assemble us all together

To banquet with the hallelujahs

From the holy mouths

BEYOND NATURAL

It takes the brave to walk on broken bottles to the gate of her heart

Giants to gather courage before her presence

Philosophers to mend mirrors to reflect her image

Wise to take her cotton from fire

Rare humility to entertain her anger

Billionaires to buy her ring

Wisdom to understand her language

Utopian interpreter to understand her cry

Scribes to write her words

People with unequal minds to talk to her

Arch angels to sing her lullaby

Spiders to sow her garment

Warriors stand on top of mountains to call her

Cowards bow before her shadow from afar

Sincerity is the key to her gate

Perfect affection is the code to her room

She laughs with truthfulness

And frowns on betrayal

She knows no bounds to true heart

ROSES IN THE SOIL

Shy me not in the face of the world

Don’t shun me like how yesterday’s sun died

out in the darkness for today’s fame

Submerge me under the canopy of your true heart

Fan the embers of fidelity in our love

Follow my footsteps of faithfulness in truth

Shower me with joy

And drench me with living happiness

Show me the entrance of peace

And walk me out through the exit door of amusement

Let the flavour of your love shine in the skies

Like the appearing sun licking the face of the ocean

Drink deep or taste not the true reflection of my love

Embraced me with the claws of understanding

And kissed me with tenderness

From infinitive fountains of your love

 Have I yeaned the quenching movement of your love.