Wednesday, September 18, 2013


Nananom kept their music in their paws
Tutugyagu asomfour kept their hearts in their tongue
Mpanyinfuor kept their voice in their value
their value in their voice
the dead chiefs kept their modules in their music
that walks up on us
spinning on the wheels of time travel
dazzling on fine axles
castles are built from the ground up
our pillars are rooted by the hands of ancestry
a formidable culture
that still finds strains in our presence

sun up till sun down
we're fenced in the tradition
of minds pouring out food like kpokpoi at Homowo

we as poets pour libation from our tongue
overspilling the calabash of our minds
in respect
in honour
of ones who were here before us
who tilled the soil with bare feet
softened by echoes of blood drops
and solution of tear spots

we as poets have lived before
through the bones of ones who were here

we can show
by the music that sticks in our paws
the poetry that spills from our jaws


Thursday, September 12, 2013


Who do you look up to?
Who exists in your third eye view
As a concrete evidence of identity?
Who is at the edge of destiny's hill
With the baton of perfection
You want to grasp?

Is it of physical essence?
Blood and bone
Flesh and Fluid
Quotes and Culture
Life of the here-now?

Is it of spiritual essence?
Deep down a touch
Invisible but a clench of trust
As brine from eyes sediment over dust
Ashy leaves lost in the wind
Wonder hugging home with a speed
Eternity or a nearly-possible eternity

The body and mind are in an x-axis
Though idols keep the balance
With the connection of a y-axis
Only reference is the
Integrity of time

Who do you look up to?
Who is your idol defined?
For he/she/it connects
With your identity and destiny.

(c)KW 12092013

In'her scope

In'her scope
where her beauty resides
he discovered
what is worn inside is an insight
without love carved deep
and a heart sculpted
with the chisel of patience,
art of endurance will not be seen

When they left the dance floor
where energy dripped
his ears became a sanctuary
for her spirited stories

She'd been through rough days
through dark corridors
like Elmina slaves
but escaped through the gates of no-return -
a probable life destruction

It took them two to tango
but they remixed their steps like azonto
they interlocked words like vocabulary lego
for a long while, then
when they left the dance floor
where laughter dripped
his ears became a sanctuary
for her spirited stories

Stories about how she used to die each day
tattooing tears on alleyways
while waltzing with music of murder
culling criminal choruses
on concrete corners
causing traffic with her static gaze
magnetism in her utterances
an effect like sublime ordinances

Now she bears ambitions
like Accra hawkers do their products
the devil snatched her heart once and twice
and used her drive as a vehicle
she returned pale
she returned a pail
fetching hearts of men she lured,
her green gaze gobbled gloom
till she was touched by him

To discard the source of sorcery
and grow a new leaf and life
one morning

The fear she had inside
lost anchor and drowned
his words
ignited a passionate flame
to refine the rusty gold
in her heart
now she shines
like the sky's magic of morning

(c)KW 10092013