BURUNDI, WHY?

Burundi, you are caught in a trap

And only you can free yourself

Bujumburam is choked by her own tears

The blood Of Evariste splashes across sorghum fields

The spirit voice of Kayenda is strangled at dawn

By those who once were friends

Gishora panics

Abatimbos fear

Burundi, you have killed Nkezabahizi the cameraman

And spared not his wife Niyonzima and children to carry on his voice

Burundi, you tied sand to your son’s testicles

And burned his buttocks in acid

Burundi, you already crossed your red sea

Then why? For once the Israelites did cross

Where is Nkurunziza of our past decade?

Nkurunziza the christian

Burundi

Burundi

Burundi

Burundi, the garment you wear is white Saltire

Yet Africa mourns your nakedness.

Copyright (C) 2015

LETTER AT SUNRISE

Good morning friends

Good morning flowery flames of flourishing fields

Good morning Anases

Mockers tremble when you wake at cockcrow

Good morning to those who were born yesterday

Good morning to those who loved us yesterday

You cause rain to gather in our eyes

Grow and water the earth

In wait for the harvest

Good morning to those whose palms fed the kernel

Our children know of you

That you did not bury the prophecy

The merry songs and dreadful days

Good morning to ordinary men who feed hungry mouths

Though you are despised everywhere

Your name is everywhere

The Potter’s pride

Good morning to suffering souls

When your day comes

Offer your master his last pound of greeting

Then walk out to your freedom which waits at the door

Good morning to those who deserve our greetings

Good morning friends.

Copyright (C) 2015

SHINING LIGHTS

Light shines where it shines

Darkness stripped

Driven across the mountains

Here, no eyes should see blackness

Light shines where it shines

Blackest dawn forced backwards

With the strike of nine wounded vipers

Backwards ever forward never

Light shines where it shines

Light in every being

Ascending to ascension

Till the world sees bright light indeed

Light shines where it shines

The moon in your palms

Even on your sick bed

Of exit into eternal rest

That, men should see

The candlelight you were in their darkness.

Copyright (C) 2015

ABRONOMA

On that blissful night

Of retire from the Folks Place

Where our feet first converged at Nana's call

I, the bee

Blown by the wind into your path

Words exchanged one or two, or three

'You look familiar’, I have seen you before'

Then, you entered my soul, there

Embossed, not ephemeral, your fragrance

I inhaled deeply

Morning blossoms

Blossoming spring

Clothed in heaven's mind

The window of my heart flung opened

To catch your aroma and morning breathe

Afternoon sun

Baths you to beauty

Your attitude

Your sweetness

Your care

My heart whispered me calm

Spoke to me and sang a ballad

My heart knew it had found a treasure

A place, a home

A woman to love, a companion

Slowly

I loosened to trust like Bonwire’s loom

You are the weaver’s hand

Whose tears wiped away my tears

Love is no more a stranger

Abronoma

Dainty dove

I till the earth and sow

A handful of gratitude

For you, the august gift of August.

Copyright (C) 2015


Abronoma (Akan Twi) = Dove

RASCALS

Rascals have invaded our Circle

Every place where men should gather

Conmen with smelly armpits, armed with

A verse, totems and

A mad man for experiment

This exhibition surely is not for kings

Foolish men

He is ready to slaughter his obedient listeners

Whereas

He is no Abraham neither are they Isaac, but

They are ever ready to be sacrificed

He excites the circular crowd

He excites the mad man stationed at the centre

Mad man fondles his scrotum and flicks away

A homeless harmless fly

Misses prophet by half an inch

‘Kwasia...Gyiiiimiii’

(me di yesu mogya kan we nim)

They jeer, loud enough to catch the saviour’s attention

‘Preach on!’, a hooligan hits the punch line

‘Swag on Prophet!’ another thunders thin

‘The Prophet bulldozer!’

Its collection time

Business comes to an end soon, the prophet’s saviour

Whereas they need be redeemed by the real saviour 

Copyright (C) 2015

THE BEGGAR

This is to the beggar whose lineage are kingsmen

Death, they thought, must be a better choice

Than slanderous fingers should point at the royal palace

And gossips should find their voices again

What happened passed from one lip to the other?

Candlelight

Snuffed out softly, slowly

In the company of bootlickers and wild at hearts

Lured onto a slippery stage

Dreams fester

Merriment becomes a curse

Wait!

Not the dancers are to blame, not the singers but

The audience, among whom the beggar is numbered

The kingsmen could no longer remain dumb

They forbade the prophet to prophesy

And the soothsayer they charged to remain at arm’s length

That for the sake of their prodigal son, they should be poorer by some bread and butter

They reasoned among themselves, that,

Someday, the Pig’s feed should run out while their son’s hunger hurt him more

They knew the Pig would snort louder

Till their son heard the voice of wisdom calling in the Pig's snort

And return home

Copyright (C) 2015

PRICELESS

Fragile

Precious

Ripe egg

Bearer of gold eggs

Your wings spread beautifully abroad

Peacock in flight

You swallow the pebbles of my despair

Your love reminds me of old God

You mean so much

Words are prisoners of your love

Your smile spreads across  

Your voice is a tale on noble tongues

I will tell my mother about you

And remind your mother of her beautiful tree

Planted in the heart of a young lover

Priceless

Copyright (C) 2015