Thoughts Of The Joker

The dawn was over
And the blazing sun toasted us
In brightness
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?

Clara

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.

In Memory Of Lucky Dube (A Eulogy)

The weather was not favourable,

Nothing was adaptable;

The ground was too hot for any sole

And the blazing air was too hot for any flying soul

Because beasts among men had turned life cold

But he was just a lone cub – bold.

 

Even in harsh shoes

He grew to become a fine lion

As ghastly years blew honour

Rapidly into the vale of times

And abandoning MAMA

On the bare sands of a greedy and faithless world,

The whole edifice of MAMA’s pride

Was falling to the dirt;

And her dignity struggled

In the quicksands of sordid scorn,

But he fought gallantly and fearlessly.

 

Lucky fought gallantly

Till death on his usual furtive rounds

Did what he knew best

To break our hearts.

Rage

Alexander,
Like the weather
Sometimes calm and steady
And sometimes rough and violent.
That thing fights him
With nature’s strength
And hurts the people he loves.
He fights it as a fiend,
But this fiend has been a friend from infancy.
Always making him cherish the illusion
That those he loves be dizzied with delusion.
It blurs his vision,
And paints his climax much gloomier.
If only tears; would be the precipitous
Effect of his overwhelming emotion
And rinse his pain at times.
If only the chagrin disposition were
Seen for what it is –
Ignorance.

Devil

Slanderer,
Mankind’s Satan,
Cunning wise adroit
Divinely using prowess for
Ailing.

Death

Liberating
Skulking shadow,
Ruefully feared foe,
Inevitably taking lives at
Will.

Love Hurts – The Dialogue

WILLIAMS: Grandpa, the hurt of love maims

Any progressive thought in my mind.

I believe love is an incurable disease

Every human must strive to avoid,

Don’t you think?

GRANDPA: hmmm… convince me…

WILLIAMS: Ok, just you imagine you have a friend

Who knows not of your love for her.

She is your friend and you try to please her as one.

But… your heart doesn’t want her as such.

You try to love her less

But your heart wants to love her not so meagre.

And though your mind reigns,

You are barely sane and so you are hardly quiet.

And she comes to chronicle to you

The joys of her great love –

These are laps on the clock you desire of her she gives him.

How racking and maddening… but if only you could steal the clock.

Like Dorian Gray you employ a beastly wise

To hide your true face,

But there is that other soul in you

That longs to be seen,

To be able to share gentleness, kisses and touches,

To show her to a world she never knew or had…

But even the two inside of you can’t brighten the gloom

In the depths of solitude by their drama;

Hence quiet you shall keep so she’ll enjoy

Her bliss and you’ll enjoy your misery because you love her.

GRANDPA: Williams my boy,

That must have hurt whoever you speak of real bad.

Does love really hurt?

(He holds his chin and rolls his eyes thoughtfully)

WILLIAMS: You agree then… (He says eagerly)

GRANDPA: You’re are one wise lad so I’ll telll you this;

Love never hurt me; love killed me, love made me cry

Till I had nothing to cry as tears,

Love made me hurt till I lost my sense of perception,

Love put me down till… I felt immortal.

In the shine of my youth,

When I walked into the inevitable path of love,

It was renewing, refreshing, soothing and thoroughly magical.

Where else, in whom could I have known such wonder?

But in his world and in him – love.

My eyes and ears and all wit were taken

And an addict I became,

Because love was so strong and demanding,

So sweet and but turned sour

Just at the turn of a corner,

Just in the tick of a second.

There were days when she and I just…

Just loved, held each other close,

Kissed each other long, and our hands,

Lips, bodies and our hearts comingled into one.

But in one step, maybe a toss of a coin,

Possibly the start of a new breath,

At the lips of a car she disappeared

In her slow spreading blood

And I have been bleeding ever since.

Such pleasure I’ve roved

Through my years and can’t fathom or find.

Williams, love could hurt,

Love hurt me real bad but…

WILLIAMS: You concede then that love isn’t that flawless bliss

That the movies, songs, stories and poems

Make it out to be? (He interrupts)

GRANDPA: No!!!

You see, a day that never learns to break

Never learns to shine,

A child that never learns to crawl never learns to run.

It is funny how at times death will reborn you,

And how other times

The pain moulds you.

Now listen and listen rapt –

Love is never compromising but sometimes risky,

But living life and never loved to death is worse,

Is worse than laying your heart

To be trampled on by loves feet.

Love is so antique, a wisdom very unpredictable,

A maker misconstrued as a destroyer

Because of the mischief of kismet.

This makes one wonder if love even loves us.

But which science can figure that out?

And that is what makes love a magical flawless bliss.

Love could be bitter,

It could hurt you beyond repair,

But once you’ve encountered it you’d see

That it is sweeter than it is bitter;

That the sobs from your cries if you observe better,

Will realize they are disguised mirths – even the hurt is sweet.

Williams, (He looks him soft and long in the eyes)

Lose your heart son,

Just so you can find it.

How It Turned Out

I beheld a flame in her twinkling eyes,

And this gave the sunrise.

Her shyness beckoned me

So the battle began in me

And enkindling my most feared of fears

By strengthening my hidden cares,

And making me relish freedom from solitude as the devil;

The reason for my prayers from dawn to dawn.

Now shall I call kismet the devil?

For from flame climes of joy pain is born.

Ere, my ice told, my heart lies.

Now I feel cold as ice.

If only the sun could melt the glacier I see,

And so I ask myself, “what did I see?”.

I Miss You

Suddenly I’m insuficient the man I used to be

And I’m not as ignorant as I used to be,

I miss this much;

I miss the way your raw naked voice attempts

To alter my mood when it is gloomy and stale.

I miss your ugly hand though unprofitable

Finding a way to fit my handsome hand.

I miss your sheen smile –

That which made me realize everytime you did

How dim the bulb is.

And AHHH!!! I miss the look-me-in-my-eyes endurance sport,

What a silly sport we played.

And I miss the feel of your skin at my fingertips,

A texture of wonder,

Unlike satin or anything I’ve known,

Just perfect it is.

I miss the inspiration born around you

That made my pen worble and speak volumes of poetry.

Only when you hug me is when I wish to be taller,

I miss that too.

I miss the instant collision of our eyeballs when I’m guard down,

Which gives a feel of gentle ripples in my spine

And sundry strange sensations caressing my innards.

And I miss that madening urge

To know the flavor of your lips

That could tempt even the blind.

I miss this way because I want to keep being the man I used to be.

But suddenly I’m not half the man I used to be

And I’m not half as ignorant as I used to be,

Because I miss you this much

But for the half days I spent with you in shadow.

Twain

As you my swain

And me your swain

We are two swains for one love.

Our heart beat one chorus,

Our minds think one thought

And our eyes see one love.

Skin to skin we’ll barnish every chill,

Hand in hand we’ll wade

Through the treacherous currents,

And beat to beat we’ll quietly enjoy

The pledge recital by the voices of our rejoicing hearts.

In the wild cadence of time

Through the surprising hypocrisy of this life

The torrent of our torrid love

Shall see us through.

For only as two can we

As one scare scare

And ease threats that will not be gone

Soon.