Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

SLAVE OF SOCIETY

Posted: September 10, 2017 in THE NEGRO
Tags: , , , , , , ,

image

The birth of a child,
Eyes of the onlookers decides its fate
Predicted for greatness if a male.
With pride he is circumcised,
As fathers hit their chests like drums
My birth drew only nods of congratulations,
Not the usual pat on the back,
That calls for merry throughout the night to bid welcome.
From the moment the Oracle declared me a girl,
My fate was designed into an asanka.

Declared unfit to step where men left a print,
I watch the hopes of many girls fade.
Society was always quick to remind me of my place;
“You are a girl” as if it was a curse
Yet they pray to Asaase Yaa
To grant them prosperity.
When they treat me like I have no integrity.
Seeking to always see my knees kissing the earth,
For that is “my place”
As they say.

Insolent the call me, when I ask “why”
Inquisitive they brand me when I inquire “how”
As they realize “what” I can become, they declare me a threat.
Clothing me in the garment of extreme feminism.
The reward I get for a genuine criticism.
Is this the heaven I was promised,
As I ruled in my mother’s womb?
Why deliver me in the jaws of inequality?
Is it that I came with so much sin?
Or society is too sinful to accept my pureness?

Deep within I sense fear in the eyes of society,
It’s heart skips a beat as I still walk on
In this societal bondage.
You a quick to remind me that I’m weak.
In your bid to cover your tracks of insecurity
I smile at what good exudes from my being,
Though you interpret it as a roar.
I seek no vengeance, not on men or society
But I must be fed with the same spoon that feeds the “lords”
The respect of time, results in patience
It is time, my time as a Woman.

#THMpoetry ©2017

NOTE
ASANKA : A traditional bowl made from clay used for cooking in Ghana .

ASAASE YAA : Name of the earth goddess known mostly in the Akan Ethnic groups in Ghana.

Advertisements

FLUTE GODDESS

Posted: August 8, 2017 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , ,

image

Melodies soft in nature,
Yet burning like fire.
Music, piercing like a hot spear
Though soothing like a mother’s comfort.
Playing through the day,
And drawing curtains over the night.

A touch of elegance;
As you play the anthem of the night
Beneath the stare of the full moon.
Making known the silent language of the heart.
A sound as magical as the hand that holds the flute.
A sight as beautiful as the lips of the wielder, …

#THMpoetry © 2017

MANY FACE GOD

Posted: August 7, 2017 in HARD NUTS, THE HAYMAKER
Tags: , , , ,

image

A face for a moment ,
An expression for the second,
A life for the season,
A smile for the hour,
A cry for the minute.

She lives a life only she can explain
I try to dilute her gestures
Only to have it in high concentration
The many face god
Why choose me for a visit??

To be continued…

#THMpoetry © 2017

image

Upon the heated lands of the village
Beside the gentle waters ,
Flowing from the eyes of Mother Earth.
Beneath the mountains there I sit.
Upon the soothing carpet of nature,
I draw my hope and inspiration.
For that is the only way I adore that which is within me.
My fingers yearn for the dirt it was made for.

I cry to the mountain of my fathers,
Seeking an audience at their banquet
But all I hear is a loud silence.
Dear fathers, my fingers yearn for the dirt it was made for.
I wail to the hearing of my mothers
But I’m met with loud laughs
The output of daily today gossips.

Time has come to give hope to the green leaf.
Give it a shade to harness it’s growth.
In my mansion of solitude
I create that which is not made yet.
But with no guidance I pack it into my tent.
Elders of our heritage!!!
Do we not see innovation is in shortage
Not because none exists, but none is natured.

The gateway to success stretches it’s arms wide
Let’s ride on the new tide
The tide of enhancing youthful skills.
The wave of generational innovation.
Our dear village hungers for a handshake with the youth.
Elders of our land,
Grant the green leaves a drink of empowerment.
For with mud our fingers are covered.

#THMpoetry © 2017

image

Glory be to GOD for having 3 nominations.
Hoping to win them all.
Step by step we going higher
All support is required
Step by step we shall make it.

#THMpoetry © 2017

image

Glory be to GOD for having 3 nominations.
Hoping hope to win them all.
Step by step we going higher

#THMpoetry © 2017

I’m only a passerby
Sent by success to say hi
That with little push you can go high.
Life is only but an exam
Just believe and be calm

#THMpoetry © 2017

Always remember, your first backup team.
Is You
Cos u understand yourself better.

#THMpoetry © 2017

Posted: January 9, 2017 in QUOTES
Tags: , , , , ,

That moment where you look up,
Draw your motivation from the flying bird.
Cos no matter the nature of the weather,
IT STILL FLIES.

#THMpoetry ©2017

SHADES OF LIFE

Posted: August 1, 2016 in HARD NUTS
Tags: , , , ,

So much for the nature of the crocodile
It comes out of water and stays there for a while
And just as you come by,
It looks at you and winks a Hi.
Life always starts like an empty file
You begin with zero and count to nine.
Filled with delicacies ,the food ,oh not to talk of the wine.
It sweetens , loosens and carries you away unto the islands in the sky.
Making you think, the women, cars, food ,wealth, are all mine
The moment of pure fulfillment as it only remains one thing
I have everything,
Until you realize that you’ve lost something,
Then you know you have nothing.

Life is not all about seed sowing
A time to do thoughts selection ,clearing and plowing, 
The blend of all these become the success weapon
One which you shall grow to rely on.
Like the voice of my beloved
Melting down all feeling of being troubled
Her breath on mine certifies that my .life is doubled.
Like those in shinny suits in long convoys
Talking on screens with an angel’s voice
As they sip the earnings of those they lord over
Only to live their lives always looking over their shoulders
As though being hunted by the evils of the dark bunkers
Where men kill with the ideals of saving our nation.
A nation that dwells in the hands corrupt invasions.

My hustling has ended me in the porch of knowledge
There too taking only the strength of courage
Courage of standing long hours” Book-filled” sense
That which grants you passage over the fence.
Or beneath the fence, as doctrines may say.
Like the clerics in most pure garments of the day
But tainted with the filth of magic,
Oh sorry , modern day Christianity very tragic
Our poor souls hunt for a resting place
For I hear , salvation is a race.
My guess is , there is no place for losers.
But blessed are the givers.
And hopeful are the receivers.