I was there

So they say and so and so
I was there

So they came to stand
and stand
and stand
I was there

And so they poured it
and cracked
and cracked
like that
I was there

But no abberation
and so it never paused and so
more--like that
I was there

The spirit that perpetuates
darkness and our doom and so
and so we are brats?
I was there

And so they labelled us, me
just an expression
and so
and so
and so
and yet: I was there.

One Morning

As we awoke to the breeze in June
And the wind touched our open sore
Reflection belled our nothingness: we got flour
So we perched here to commune

Our squalid life like an unuttered spell
Cast on a wrecked sore to forever smell
Messaged our status quo
To flies to lick the fluid from the sore that flowed

Various aims yet shaped, unshaped
Left wretched uncared for
On a burning sun like a mad man's sore
Useless, variegated, weather-swayed

This uppity wherein our rulers dwelled
Many at 50 unto our pity
And the hands of frivolities that hijacked our progress
So more woebegone was our sore in this higgledy-piggledy

But one morning hot in November
When we awoke our home unto new salvation
Our souls and lives may ever veer from neglect
When we changed words for us to remember

A Land Lives

Might well as i don't pretend
My land embraced a few bullets
Not dead
And breath that hover here
Only kissed some sedatives wherein they dwelt

So a shock will be a renaissance
As we all bleed for ancestral remembrance
We still are brooms that earth and dust throw annoyance
Strength is no passe' so we forward march our land

Rot

At the bell of freedom
We sprung to flee
Naked
That one we forgot

Soon it caught up with us: our doom
Yet again we flee: but not free
Oh naked
That one was our lot

But now our minds do we groom?
Uncertainty belie our navel hanging
like a peach on a tree
Why naked
That is why we rot

Chords of Man

First read at radio universe, university of Ghana.

The chords struck in staccato
So it came, staggering
On his soul to wretchedness
Hmm.... So he was told

Many other souls
Played disorganized on the piano
Yet Gos shares the gold
Hmm.... So he was told

His life was a guitar
And he smoked it: i saw the tar
Even in this piece, his only peace
Could not have been his own
Hmm.... So he was told

So all our world dwell like a phrase
Held by naked sung and unsung chords in display
And a wrong note is a discord played
So a la-la-la gifts a ray
Hmm.... So he was told