First read at radio univers on Sunday, March 18, 2007.
They say love is this
Love is that
Love is there
Petsepetse Petsepetse Petsepetse*
But where?
Where dost love hide
In troubles and lovers plight?
To pain of sore on the leg
In harmattan must love thrive?
Petsepetse Petsepetse Petsepetse
Love wretched with stretch marks
Full with dirty grimaces of betrayal
Which merit self crucifixion
Like that of Judas
Petsepetse Petsepetse Petsepetse
Love mesmerizes lovers to foolish extremes
Even render them mendacious in love
And yet this be love?
Petsepetse Petsepetse Petsepetse
To cry helplessly in slow impatience
To breathe long lost love
The malarkey of a sickness called love
Petsepetse Petsepetse Petsepetse
Funny dreams of treading the sky
The redundant exaggeration of sentiments
For me to fall in love:no
Petsepetse Petsepetse Petsepetse
*this is a Ga( a language spoken in Accra) term which literally means nasty, stinks, or bad.
If and when we would decide to read poetry or a piece of discerning article a day, our world is, then headed for a change. No magic potion whatsoever: if there were, politicians would have used it a long time ago. Our mind is all that we have; the only exception to tricks of all corners and angles. Enjoy the luxury and peace of poetry...
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