Skip to main content

Posts

The Curse of Duty

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?

NERVOUS

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.

RARE Apples

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.

JOY to the WORLD

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

Tomorrow never comes

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.

My FIRST 💋 KISS

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.

BONE OF MY BONES

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

EVEN GOD CAN'T SINK THIS SHIP

As Doyen as he seemed,  He sunk into the deep of his heart And aroused what couldn't exist  Common Ice, piercing the metallic. T'is was on that special beast A kind of untouchable brute When that captain let go everything No, it rather slipped from his hands. The wonder of the world The titan of desire and pleasure She was called The TITANIC. For it was as hard as titanium. "Even God can't sink this ship" Said the captain of the night Who revered not the Lord's might But thought the engineer was alright Words they say aren't just powerful They are sometimes dreadful Causing pain even in the bossom of God, To Let frozen water cut a ship like sword. If you ever watched the movie, And listened to the latter, These words you would remember That truly God never sunk it, The captain rather sang  And then, the ship gently sunk.

"BABY I'M SORRY"

Never say I dawg you,  As you said in our chat. I only decided to use hue, In my future colour chart. T'is you who dodge me Thinking lonely I'll be By snubbing my mindset For a permanent search  Of a lifetime opposite sex Now do not judge me! "I couldn't convince you"? That I know. But if you really do, Why not let it show? You weren't ready You weren't sure Were we too many to study? Now how much did you score? Baby I'm really sorry  That your friend is in this story But you should have read her poetry That love knows no boundary #BABY I'M SORRY#

THE RUNWAY

Standing at Bay With no need to make hay For the sun has already set As the clouds and moon had bet This is real life unveiled Tango of the night revealed So as to be thy own saviour Heed to my unqualified rumor Why stare at a pulpit? Whilst you are the lectern  Is it because you're deemed unfit, Or the anointing isn't yet your turn? Oh brother, is it a mistake? That you have a stake To be rich and worthy That thou has churned worldly? This sister is blessed with dimples! And curves so simple To cause a tremble  In pillars of a temple But because your gift Can cause a tectonic drift Has become a disadvantage That at this young age You cannot be called a sage So where are all the teachings The faith and commitment preachings Are we now likened To those backslidden We cannot wait any longer Call a sister and brother Let's all get back to "Grace" Confess our deeds of disgrace As the runway is tared for arrival Let's ask for a revival  A Spiritual survival One ple

SPARK AND SPARKLE

You know what? It's not all about churching, Neither is it about doctrine. Many were the preachings, And enough holy teachings. We hope for the best  Yet influenced by the "west" Just because we over rely, On the holy sign, A biblical sigh, Of a future Utopia, With a bliss of euphoria. Is it always about soul winning? What of those souls starving, And fragile hearts bleeding,  Can we not rather do "soul feeding"? Why are ye all marveled? Expecting a speech on revival? And here I stand rather rebbutal, Trying to sound a bit canal. Do you await an anointing? Yeah, are you really expecting, Olive oil from the beard of Aaron? That season of milk is gone. Now is the time to be a true son. Spark up, Sparkle and proclaim If not, let your lifestyle reclaim Leave no lost sheep in disdain Be thou revived and unleashed To arise, shine and make an impact.

IT IS TIME

A thing that I want Something I rater need Everything that I see Is all I already have It was time to be greedy And now it is to be content   Thank God I found you Frivolous, yet well able No matter what they do You make life so simple Maybe it’s not yet my season Because my woes aren’t ceasing   Do you really think it’s time, To be satisfied with what achieved? Isn’t it better to do more, Than chewing the tuber raw? See yesterday dying Tomorrow welcomes you by crying   Nothing shall ever be free Even the fig tree Begs for water but for a fee It’s no time to be greedy Doesn’t mean don’t be ready But you too deserve a lifestyle It’s either now or later

FLYING WITHOUT Wings

This is an episode, Of women in sorrow. If you can today decode, Wait not for tomorrow. Even though I’m now tamed, What I do isn’t my will. They had my belly all drained, And I’m trying to refill.   Confess! and I confessed. Only repeat what we said, “I AM A WITCH” Else they amputate me. A statement which, I have failed to retweet.   But does it make any sense? If one cannot afford Samsung Why not go for Hisense? Even if I were a weak witch Wouldn’t I at night switch Into the bat that sung?   Keeping me in a WITCH CAMP, With my fate all clamped, Doesn’t hurt me at all. Yet those free and criticizing, Are the wizards after all. Were we to be witches, wouldn’t we flee at night?

RUNNING TO YOU

You don’t need to get me too Bcos you know, I got you For skills are far advanced There’s this school I chanced Teaching me to better my kunfu So anytime you make trouble You shouldn’t be running, running, running Just hit my console And I’ll be running to you.   I am now a soldier Make I carry you on my shoulder Because you’re stubborn I wonder If we’ll ever be together I heard you’re staying with your mother But tell her she’ll see you no longer The love I planted in your under Is making you run to me.   Last week you said to ponder Over how weak you now are Allow me to spoil your mind To make friends of no kind As you think of hugging me Anytime you freeze by the weather When the thunder sounds louder Ask your pillow if I’ll ever, Be right here running to you.

DYING WOMBS

Whereas they may be called fallopian Meals prepared by the ovarian Though with no account on YouTube They house that famous tube Striving and striking through A life far from what’s true Is there anyone responsible Why the mosquito nets Who sleeps here yet to be met And as you drive along circle You forget this is your preamble The child you ignored to nurse Although she boasts her father is a nurse Won’t mom be forced To eat dust and feed me flour Did dad lie saying mom was his flower? I’m a now a nine year old But consider young Joe How long, Should mom long For an end of this street battle Seeking alms not forthcoming If only that rapist did never exist We live, sleep and beg at airport Not because we are well off   But to see what life has installed Anytime the car parks to pick mom away I see tears in her smiles each day If not for us, she wouldn’t have said yes.

I HATE MUMMY

Just a church is placed far from a mosque Keep your bench away from the blue kiosk It is this advise Meant to keep me from vice That makes me love your mommy And I say again, With all disdain I hate your mummy- who dumped you Lovers of their own selves As early as in their age twelves Grow up into husband helpers Child care takers And family binders Yet, your mother Dumped you rather But I blame your father Who treated her like dummy Immediately we found you This baby shall live Was my wife’s faith Ooh my lovely Judith. And this is her diary, her last word “As I donate my kidney Saving a new world Tell her I’m sorry Six years more can I live To her my life I give Train her to be bold and Godly To help finish my story”

WHAT WOKE ME UP

This was in a dream Real music in my ear Which ended my nightmare Early morning FM radio reggae My first ever experience I mean   Aalaaaaajh Mu Akbar Without strings nor cymbal That elongated rhythm With somewhat recital theme Always by a male soldier Calling worshippers together Echoed from that tall building Coned at top with moon adorning   Hallelujah….. !!! I woke up this evening Tired, weary and yawning Disturbed by the drumming The sound of harps and cymbal By voices that praised their God Times I expected to see no light They called it an “All night”     Albeit I would wish To be woken up by The Holy spirit passing by With just a tap, soft voice or a hiss.

UNEQUALLY YOKED

Bind me not Like a rescue knot Tie me tight With all thy might If it is well in thy sight   To preserve the soup Cast out the bad nut   Although arithmetical uncouth The two shall surely be one A stain that sticks than glue Thy will be done Since you prefer brother Dan.   Puzzled was I Wonderful to my eye How similar their differences were Both donning an African wear.  Different people, different ambitions One hard, dark and fusty stack Versus soft, white and modernly smart Occasioned by lure, lust and love at last Can be made pure, to endure and cure That canker which we want no more   Watch not only the clock But learn how it tick-tocks Study how it moves A rolling stone gathers no moss We all deserve it That quality life That   smile caused by desires achieved.

DO this for Xmas

That wink u provoked The smile u evoked The desolate u embraced The footsteps of the needy u traced The hungry u predicted That isolation u evicted That hand u extended That burden u prevented That widow u comforted The fatherless u impacted The weak u strengthened The little thing u shared Truly showed u cared These are the flock u reared They ‘re the poultry u Fed; The lives u saved instead. This festive season brings back to u all u seem to have lost and wasted. Unequivocally: it’s your chance to do something if u never did anything.

KEEN AND KINGS

It's a beautiful brand new day, And they finally have their way. A battle meant for peace, Should have been fought with ease. Keen to make it at all cost, Even that which is already lost, King of the north  Versus one who's had enough; Kin of the south. On grounds so tough, With words baked to be rough. It's not so surprising, The wave was uprising, Like snakes, they kept hissing, Forgetting the glory day is missing. Different party colours,  One people with different orders, One may have won, The other seems gone. Verily I say to Ghana, Who can tell the mind of God? I ask in a good manner,  Did we choose a king or kin? Maybe we overlooked, for our thumbs were so keen. Or our choice was for a man who isn't mean. He who battles and runs away, May not do so for fright, Nor for his passion to sway, But for the sake of moro's fight. It's a new day, Particularly a thrilling thursday. But things might not go the old way, I only suggest Come what may, Don't forget