In The Light of Our Tomorrow

Shrinking

Shrinking...

shrinking to the core

Man has lost reason

Man has refused the light

What Man has been longing for ages

Man is shrinking

Shrinking his power of thought

To his vast stretch of rich unusable land

He must lose reason

His eyes set nowhere beyond his corridors

Shrinking, Shrinking, Shrinking

Flipping his very self to hide in his ears

Man cannot think the possible

of the impossible

His firmer grip of the imagery of the impossible

is first forged, then the possible

must be forced out of Man

for he has lost reason

His knowing of everything

has become his nothing

So all things held simple

must first be complex

to be broken down to its core again

That is the unsung philosophy

Cyclical madness

Man has lost reason

So we must go to his funeral

It is at the burial grounds Man must think

who next to follow

in the journey of the burying of Minds

Man has lost reason

So keep your beloved lads indoors

He is a thief of minds

He seeks such stuff to bury

So shut your future up--away from Man

Man is you so shut yourself up

lest you kill another Mind of tomorrow

for your tomorrow

Man has lost reason

So he is shrinking, shrinking to the core

In The Newsroom on a Rainy Day

When it rains it pours
when it rains it pours
man flees from the torrents
the city is cheated

The drainage cannot hold
so it vomits the passing water
man is here, man is there,
splish-splashing water everywhere

Oh man! Where is your head?
man is deaf, man is blind
Is your life like these two lines?

So it rains
and man flees to the trees
shade your precious shirt
save it from the rain

Your unwashed tie might smell
flee the rain
flee the rain
and let the tree save man
Your unwashed tie might smell

Man waits for the large drops
to stop.
the rain would teach you, man
the rain would teach you
the seethed rain vows
in a thunderous voice

Yet man flees to the trees
on another rainy day

Here oh The Pranksters

Beware the thumb seekers
Who smile on the photo on the posters
Oh! Novisi says they are impostors
For the enchanting smile
They don to the bank.
They will be back
With their seasonal lie affair,
To reminisce days gone
When they gleefully ate sand;
When they drunk urine with us as our beer.
They will prophesy in times when we suffer;
Enliven our lame lives with sweets—toffees.

So when they come, listen to them my friend
Listen to their holy plea
Oh! They will reappear like locusts,
To feed on your blessed gullibility.
I tell you, they are bloodsucking selfish fleas!
Caretakers who kiss the bottle, but flee at tools.


15 May, 2008.
University of Ghana.

Prospects

There comes a time when
War chanting shall be sang
When eyes, not seen much light
Yet enlightened, shall wrestle.

Sole aim: Get the Caretakers out.

That time the rot shall not be tolerated
A time when the seeds know into the things
Of things not just things
A new wave of brain threat
To oust the old system

18 May and reworked 27 July, 2008.