POEMS, NEWS, PUN AND FUN

So this is Christmas? A holy occasion, though not a must. Yet esteemed as much. One's whole life story, Is limited to just a week of merry. Amongst the lot, it was Mary, With a week more to Marry. A virgin's wildest moments of fame. A little feminine made of clay. Whose story was dubbed insane. After losing her pride to the unseen. Wouldn't you rather say to Jesus?  A godly spermicide. By a spirit-filled orgasm, Opened up her womb to lay inside. That which was preserved aside. Were you to be her spouse, Joseph, who never saw her blouse, Yet had to live in doubt, Over her unknown sex mate, Until that dream he couldn't interpret. The story used the word "espoused" Others say she was betrothed. Modern day dating or courtship. Yet nakedness was unexposed. Kept by their bond of friendship. And here we are hallucinating. Eating, dancing and singing.  So today I ask in rhetoric? Is she able to close her legs? Is he willing to wait for her?

As the days go by, And this year is a few days shy, With December ready to die, May we not just say goodbye, To those lonely passersby, Whose pockets are drained dry. They need us to hold their hands. Some just need your arms. Help one, feed many, call any. Help the orphans with money. And if you open your window, Throw out some food to that widow. Don't just wish them, rather give them a MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

A mirror doesn't just reflect It reveals what's in front of it We call it an image But I tell you, it's real  And so are words They can't touch you Yet, you will see yourself as you read further. Here comes the Ghanaian Christian defined in these episodes below: Although they pray consciously only when things are going wrong, they pray very unconsciously before they eat their daily meals. They pray more at night than day but they like day time church more than evening church services.  They love those who love them and hate their enemies. They want to be like Christ but cannot live 33 years without having sex. They forgive but will not fail to remind you again and again. They visit the shrine to inquire of an uncured illness or mysterious death but preach against idol worship. They call their children by the good names in the holy Bible. One out of seven Christians is a cheating partner, willing to change but not ready to stop making new friends. One out of eight Christ

So it's true, that between 17 and 27 years is our prime period.  Meaning, all the mistakes or the good choices we make in life are in this non volatile steroid.  Your career paths, and everything else in your future depends on this short era. The beautiful ladies and the young men chase each other. Here, the meek will find their way and the restless tend to find theirs anyway. Your good choice will reward you forever and a wrong tick won't stop hunting.  Ancestors tried it and can confirm without doubting. That although change is possible, Avoiding a mistake is plausible. 

The worst volition,  Is simply by not choosing  Even when you might be looking At your own shadow losing. The best violation Is by not a crime But fighting against your emotion Forcibly winning to the last dime T'is the joy of cooking That kept the chef baking  Not the heat on low Nor the smoke like snow So anytime after today In case you face any competition Be it free in life Or forcefully by strife  Take it as though an expedition Add joy to your diction And take not your heart to perdition For whatever is for you Will always come out of the blue

Several blocks away, Now lives my darling Mike. I crossed the streets, Strolled to visit Patrick, And fell for his tricks, So I lost my guardian angel. Come-on boy! Wilt thou eat the same food all day, Even though she's no prodigy? So I followed my allies, Just to see where power lies, It was all but the same act of coy. If He's a God to whom you kneel, Why does he not answer thee? They led me to the bush of knots, Where I called their god, But it's eyes did blink not. Is it your property? Even the government does it. Take, loot and be abreast. I tried, it worked, I quenched my thirst. But I now struggle to have a good rest. Our innocent self,  And the self-guilt. Those things in the dark, Which held our shine aback, Now revealed to us at last, That all is vanity and mere lust.

A Shebang teacher of this era, Fulfilling aspirations of a teller, And yet a parodying book seller, With the charisma of a self lover. Beautifully blessed beyond betrayal, Expensively exposing beyond reach, Her beautifully breasted chest, Not intended to put us to the test. With the posing effect of smiley face, She may leave a trace, Of both charm and harm, And a feel of love perusal  She's not just killing us, It's the tease she has, That though she we desire, We appear not in her list of require. This cardiac strain on her admirals, Who she had quarantined, Not just as friends-in-need, But brothers indeed, Arrested and killed me too.

And so in those days, Many people knew not Jesus' ways, Of speaking poetically in parables. Judas also misconstrued the principles. On their first tour in Africa, Jesus asked each of the twelve, I mean the disciples including Peter. "Take a stone each and follow me"  James grabbed two rocks, While Judas picked a pebble. Everyone kept his in stock, Judas hid it in his socks. Southwards from Antioch, They camped in Sudan. When Jesus began turning everyone's stone into bread, Judas then had his hands on his head. Learning his first lesson in vain, Judas tied four big stones this time to his gain, For Jesus had commanded again, And they sojourned to Lome. "We must take rest for we've miles to go" John pleaded. "Yes, we're hungry" Judas added. "Let's sit and rest on our stones" said Jesus. Thus Judas took this offense to book, Blaming Jesus for the wrong steps he took. Thus how Jesus betrayed Judas.

Whatever we live for Be it pun or euphemism Perhaps a mere metaphor No matter one's fetishism  Nothing is worth dying for The hay we make even on holiday  And the hive we craft per se  Will definitely pay off someday  Maybe not immediately But most definitely So when the season comes Faithful enough to arouse few smiles Just as our sun dawns  To light our path over miles  That we too can walk on tiles We pose again to gaze  Not at our land full of maize Nor the properties we've made But to render praise  For that free trade; Of breath without buying oxygen And bread albeit, from heaven.

Football we know is played not with our balls but rather with the feet. However only those with bigger balls are deemed to be game fit. This is how INAKI WILLIAMS ARTHUER has been discribed as he made a U turn to come back home.  After series and months of speculation, the 28 years old Spanish but Ghana born forward has to give back to society.  The brothers have decided to contribute to their motherland by accepting to help Ghana win the 2022 FIFA WORLD CUP.

Indeed this world has a lot, More beauty and pleasure.  If only we had the slot, To keep all the treasure, We'll freeze at the same spot, Just as the wife of Lot. Beautiful are the pictures we paint, Not because we are more saint, But our regard to humanity, Has testified to our true beauty, That we too can be perfect wives. Is there anyone of good report, With character to support, Is there a woman of comport, With a sense of purpose? Distance really frays vision So hey, draw nigher Come, come over For there's a good person you might be missing.

So many centuries in written adage, Were these words of magic poured out in mode arcade. As if a curse just to last a decade, To the serpent and man of stone age, For eating this fruit we differently interpret. HUSBAND, love thy wife. Bring to her no more strife. WIFE, submit to your husband. For ye are a treasure in his hand. CHILDREN, obey your parents in the Lord. Be glad that they spare not the rod. STUDENT, neglect not thy God and dust not thy books. Do it now or later make it in the brooks. MAN, work hard to make and protect thy family and property. Better start before you are thirty. WOMAN, make babies and care for thy home. Aside you, is there a safer dome, In whom our hunger and lust may hope?

In moments like this  We dare to forget we are His Though wholly owned Totally have we kowtowed  To this worldly hiss Of the so called money bliss In times as these Cults having fanfare At the expense of the fair As they intend to please Peers and family With whims of plenty We pledge however To God that we may differ  To vane desires are we immune Yet prone to gracious fortune Even as we hunger and thirst We shall not faint nor fret And can't give up either Yes, in this our era.

Eye catching when seen  Mouth watering may it seem We reveal our meekness On sight of this weakness With good clay on site From that side up high Molded indeed with a sigh And they use it as a sign Just to make us aware That for us they do wear That which unravel the rear To make us want to share Yes, we swear to have it Even if the sweat doesn't merit So far us the brain takes over Bro, you might turn cassanova  But wait, I have a solution We're no bait, just take caution All apples are sweet No matter colour or how neat So anytime you see her Grab one who's forever dear Clean and freeze to your taste In case you yearn for another in haste Remember, the one at home is chaste.

So many questions asked, By philosophies of Socrates, With no answerer tasked, To these bewildered apostates. Is He really God, That killable by sword? Did He rise from the dead-darkness, Wasn't He just a shadow? Is it our culture, Or that of mental slavery? Are we deceived, Or it's the holy spirit we received? Where is Okomfo Anokye? The great commander of armies, Conjuring from above, stool of gold? Why leave this life of ancestral old? But my childish reply: The fear of God, begineth wisdom. Ye shall do more than me if ye believe. Are they not indeed wise, Those creators called whites? If ye believe in their technology, Why doubt their Christianity? And today Paul reiterates: Better serve Him and let him be false, Than to falsify Him and regret he is true. HAPPY EASTER TO THE WORLD

Basically before Belinda baked bread Most of us would have finished our breakfast Even Kiki who used to eat late" Said her elder sister Kate, My childhood school mate. This continued till she lost all her customers. Thus a career lost At avoidable cost Procrastination they say steals time So if you can do tomorrow's task now Just like the ant in the hill Wait not for the rains Whilst you know thou can't swim.

There weren't any butterflies At least when I glanced at her eyes And neither did I see flowery images As hyperbolized in books and on stages T'was mere nuzzling Within a darker atmosphere Created by lovely shyness Slowly lowering the curtains of the eyelashes. To that point of smelling another's breathe, A romantic moment of cuddle,  With mouthwatering promises of love.

After which of these, Must we thirst? As man may please, Chose he first, That which seems best. A million ants would climb onto a single cube of sugar, Not because it's bigger than salt, But the creator's own will of that sort. No beauty at first could cheer me up. Everything seemed to be made up; Skin hidden in contrast stocks, Hips modified with lifters, Not forgetting lip paintings by my sisters. That was when I didn't Know Nancy: It was Val's day, And you either dressed nicely, Or be rejected nastily. Then appeared this silky dark and lovely, But also majestically modelling fellow, Shirt on top, skirt below and slips to follow. Her rear was as bulky as pillow. A lady I since admired at church. A sight to behold indeed, Such virtue in a woman I need, But I was waiting on the Lord. Love may be coloured red, as life is labeled green. But what we must do with the crayons at hand, Is not to paint but to draw a face. Broad smiley face with or without dimples. With welcomi