Wednesday, 13 September 2017

CHINYERE - THE GIFT OF GOD

CHINYERE - THE GIFT OF GOD

I heard her clearly through the thunderclaps
Amidst the roaring of the Christmas winds
The tumult outside would deafen the blind bat
Surely Odumankoma's flashing torchlight blinds the night owl

I could hear the whistles of the Ancestors rustling the trees
Maybe it was a salutation from my grandfather
Or my father saying he was proud of me
But I could tell my ancestors were at peace
Their presence an awesome warmth

I had called on the benevolence of Odumankoma
The man called "obaatanpa", indeed a mother
For desperation drew my soul to grief
Laughter could not escape my lips
Not when I longed for Odumankoma's masterpiece

O that Odumankoma would bless me
I would not care for looks in the least
But I would lay no more in anguish
And my troubled heart shall be at peace
For I would dance to tunes of life

Alas! I did hear her clearly
For I heard Odumankoma's answer
It was the cry of a Star
The gift of The Creator to me

I asked for a child
He gave me a daughter
I asked for a commoner's baby
He gave a priceless gift

Her cry reverberates in my heart
A sound that brings tears to my eyes
Her name is Chinyere - Odumankoma's gift
Forever unto me a treasure
She is the Star that brightens my world

(C) Osei Owusu Emmanuel
12th September, 2017

Dedicated  to Star Chinyere Solomon

Saturday, 29 April 2017

Dear Dream Girl.

Dear Dream Girl,
I sail on turbulent waters
without a life jacket
and my boat is already full
with dreams and pages--I have
a ghost to shame and
a widow at home to console;
wait for me at the shore ahead.

Home still stands on no pillars,
the roof still weeps when rains
come out to play-- my bowl is full now
because she at home eats
hunger and drinks tears; I am
clothed because she wears tatters
and bare feet.

I journey in the company of night,
my eyes are alive and yet do not see,
I depend on a sight borrowed
from the Ever-burning Heavenly Lamp-
I have a ghost to shame
and a widow at home to console-
day awaits me at the shore ahead

at the shore ahead I have built my mansion
there awaits a smiling widow--
do not jump into my boat now
lest we sink and get washed onto
an undesirable shore ahead
just sail ahead of me (in your own boat)
and with the same Lamp that guides me
until at the new shore, day welcomes
a wealthy vetpublishedpoet
whose twins patiently wait
in your blessed womb.

©Sarpong Kumankoma.

Tuesday, 26 July 2016

AGYEIWAA (a worldless poem)

AGYEIWAA (a wordless poem)
                  I
I want to write you a poem.         .   ..
One that  you alone                 .             ...
But none can read.                                ....
A poem that begins                              ...
With a weirdo pulling                        ..
Yo' hair as if he had in it             ..
Hidden his greatest treasure.
                II
          A poem with a beginning
                        But never an end
              A poem without words
           A poem not of this world
     A poem of a  world in which
                 You and I alone exist
A poem not inscribed on paper
A poem sighed from the heart
                III
             A fragrant sigh into the air
     One that you alone can breath
A poem about a conceived dream
            A dream yet to meet Time—
                                        the midwife
                IV
A poem that will seek to bind
Rap to poetry with a diamond
Ring.                   One                that
Will                                                never
Stop                                              glittering
In the                                           darkest
Realms                                      of time
...............                             .........                             
....................                   ............
........................           ..................
............................  ..........................
©Sarpong Kumankoma
19-12-15



THE PASSERBY

THE PASSERBY
We built him a home
We are a hospitable nation--
The passerby deserves
A comfortable rest
He comes and goes
With our belongings--
Pulls down our walls and place
Our mats on streets
He  clothes us
In black and red garments
Joyfully he flaunts
His blood stained teeth
Promises sail on
Our tears to chase his steps----
He's incarcerated for life
Behind political tongues
Then the sun comes
To dry our tears--
Whitening our mourning
Garments
Erasing painful memories
Promises sink into dry land
Wounded hearts heal
We are a peace-loving nation
Yes we write again to June-July
To bring our guest
For we enjoyed his stay with us!
©Sarpong Kumankoma

Wednesday, 2 March 2016

THE CAPITAL CITY

THE CAPITAL CITY

I looked, I saw and I conquered
But maybe I expected too much
Yet I marveled at what I saw
Through a glass mirror

Expert or not I do appreciate
The beauty that lies within
A land so full of people
Busy with life’s businesses

Entangled in the earth’s struggles
The bustling life of the capital city
With its struggling hustlers
Managing to live through the ordeal

This city is the heaven of the rural man
Galloping on the grounds of a better life
Full of white collar jobs and nice women
Leaving behind the forests of cocoa and yam

But they find in their dreamland
A new episode of rumbling city life
Where squatters and hawkers scout
For a new abode to lay their heads

The dawn rises in the city
Waking it from its slumber into life
A dawn as beautiful as the sunshine
A mixture of colours so wondrous

My City Capitol may not be the best
But it is just beautiful as it is
Even the hustler understands
That there is no place better to be
(c) Osei Owusu Emmanuel

Dedicated to Esther K. Appau, Priscilla Gyamera (Jamaica) and Leodina Steele-Dadzie