Only strong belts of endurance
Can hold back this fluid; maybe magical,
From pouring down one’s countenance.
It is the wheel barrow
That carries out the wreckage circumstance leaves
After shaking a life in its moments of dominance.
It is the silent words
That turn around dispositions
By showing blinded people
The different colours of sunlight.
It is the rain that sometimes keeps a waif company
And crowns some bar-raisers.
I am jealous
Because everyone sees it in oodles
When season wearing the right circumstance comes.
Because my well of tears
Is arid with nothingness.
Every time I see you
A fire in me burns alive,
Right in the depths of my soul
And the hills of wax melt away.
Whenever I think of you
My heart pants for you
And my soul thirsts for you,
It makes me wish God will bless
Me with you and never bless me again.
There is a certain aura
Borne by your winsome eyes,
That brings me love as sweet as nectar
And as inevitable as the fate of the soul of Hector.
My spirit is tortured
And now I’m robbed of my sleep
With my boundless thoughts
In the quietness of the sun’s absence
Cloaked by you and your seemingly shallow cares.
I believe our souls are made of a sole material
Because our souls seem united for some purpose
And I hope there will be time to fathom why
And hold communion,
Making me the favoured possessor of your love
Before the wrinkles of time hiding behind
Our youth crawls up our faces.
The walls of my heart stood hight and tall,
And then she came along
And they came crashing down
In a glance dressed unconscious.
Now, in her presence
My tongue is poor,
Her footsteps define my heartbeat,
Her words lurk deep in my memory,
Her beauty is the light of my day,
And her gazes leave me paralyzed.
When I’m sick,
Her concern is my only cure.
And when I’m sad,
Her memory is my only joy.
Though my breath was short in my search for a hiding place,
And though my wall was so strong
Even warrior angels could not get through,
Her love still found me out
As easily as death claims a life
And I’m sitting in my
Flawed state and thinking to myself –
“How did I fall?”
Yesterday, I bowed out of my hat,
I could hear the birds herald the day,
I could also see the glorious sun rays
Piercing the clouds
And around me were beautiful nectar flowers
At dusk, the sun was on the other side of the earth
Slowly walking down to sleep.
The lake was calm,
The breeze was warm and still,
And the cloak of darkness thickened.
It was very late in hour.
The weak light from the old moon betrayed the night
But in the peace of the night,
The sneaky stealthy shadow prowled.
Today, I bowed out of my hat
And I could hear only rain whispers
But the bird singers.
I could see rain drops from the face of the sky.
Because a beautiful nectar flower was gone.
Ergo, even at noon it was so cold
And the lake’s face looked pale
Still clinging to the chills of dawn.
And that was when I realized
The herald of woe; the shadow last night
In the quietness of the faded day
Came and lingered in the garden.
Have you ever loved someone
Who left you for another?
Have you ever had the idea
That someone loved you and it wasn’t so?
Have you ever been fed love deliberately
Just to poison your soul?
Have you ever been dizzied with an idiot’s ecstasy
And left by the sole provider?
Have you ever been hit by gentle bullets of tears?
Gentle bullets from your own eyes
Because love slammed a door at your life
With the fury of a thunderclap
And the powerful diabolism of an earthquake?
Well, I have
And it felt like the tease of the chilly fingers of death.
To everything there are two sides.
Amazingly, this is the side of the coin called love
Many neglect a look at.
So when you get that cheap but important gem,
Flip it and take a thorough glance
And might just come to see that;
Love is not so parallel to death.
Armed with the infinite power
To keep you buried as deep as forever
In the heartbreak cemetery,
You will become a living phantom.
And now I know what it feels like
To walk about with one’s soul in the grave
A deceptive appearance
And we were walking down the isle
I took no chances
And would have taken
Her down to Eden
Thinking our mirage-love would make us
An immortal single duo; and dying we’ll die in love
But we weren’t meant to be
Because the sun burned out
And darkness swallowed the shinning day
So she left without saying
And now my bones are chilly
Because joy comes no more
The dawn was over
And the blazing sun toasted us
But joy flooded our hearts
Knowing he was coming as usual
To complete the day,
Wiping off in the end all wrinkles
On the face of every entity present.
What fragrance of relief and content
Filled those four corners
Within those ticking moments of joy.
But cruel bureaucracy,
The unknown legendary devil
Came around and took back
What he had given us
And scarred us.
Where is Adarkwa and the chalk?
Where are the words he vibed?
They have passed like rain off a chin,
Like wind among the meadow.
Those days have gone down
And sunk into the west’s shadow.
How did it come to this?
The ever generous Maker gave us
a beautiful sunny day; Sunday.
But the fisherman’s boat
Had hit the shoal,
And rain drops fell off the pane.
Who was in pain?
The echoes of a beautiful cry
Could be heard outside the magnificent
But dilapidated structure.
It was the advent
Of one of the Maker’s
Most priced creations; Clara
Just a little child she is,
But fills my heart with overwhelming delight
And pastes a smile on my visage
With every epithet she spews.
Coupled with her
Beauty and innocent virtues –
She is perfect.
She is perfect,
But perfection may fail
To fit her like a dress with age.
How I wish she would be the same forever.
… You want to know who I am….
I am a friend of yours back
In those shrinking days in your Alma matter…..
A friend who looked black but was white
A friend who didn’t fear the ridiculous eyes of the world he never really loved
A friend who was of the mouldering leaves of neglected shrubs
A friend who suffered a pleasant comrade deceit but for trust
A friend who thirsts for happiness
A friend who loves the soft flow of musical notes more than men
A friend whose heart still pumps the acidic past
A friend who reminisces those days of back stabbing and soul piercing laughter
A friend you made happy-sad
A friend whose happiness faded away with time just as beauty rusts with age
A friend who came to see farther beyond your masked smiles
A friend who suffered the potent arrow of your provincial clandestine
…… Yes that is me – Williams