A LOT UNSAID

Until we got to this fatal ground,

It seemed brightful and prideful.

But fate now causes the unthinkable.

I thought the pleadings

Be enough and resolved the raging heart.

Yet it still looks inflamed!

At the crossroads now,

And there seems nothing else to do.

Except to call it done,

All the beautiful and glitering moments.

I NEVER STOOD A CHANCE

My beauty draws my hair, but not the tasty food in my bowl.

What I need to write is a writing of unusual language.
Yesterday, I packed my luggage and baggage.
I was ready to meet my groom who sounded like António Jacinto
My beauty draws my hair, but not the tasty food in my bowl.

Consider the grace and peace in my breast and the pain in my back.
The gap in my teeth and curves in my neck.
The spark in my eyes and the invite in my smile.
Even the span of this hips and swing of waist couldn’t be compared to Maya Angelou’s Phenomenal Woman.
I have been insulted by a Man: He called me “Konongo Kaya”
One who has always proven to be a Crook!
My groom never saw these stupendous Look!

A crook is what I see and not a Man.
He ditched me for greater.
Jilted me for another!
Now, I’m trying to hold back to this silent tear.
Let me tell you my greatest Fear.
That through it all my mind and heart still aches for him daily.

Image: Pixabay

“Konongo Kaya” meaning- Pretending not to love someone when in actual sense you do; and in effect, you don’t want another to take that person.

I ALMOST CALLED…

Oh, I actually thought of you today

And I almost called


To say a lot of things

To say I am proud you got a chance

To say I am sorry

To say I have missed us and our moments

To say let’s start from where we left off

To say you have missed a lot of my stories

But I didn’t have the courage to dial your number

I just kept postponing our conversations

I always have you in mind but…

These “but’s” have a way of stealing my Joy

I almost called…

To rectify our difference

To make you feel better again with my words of encouragement

To spice up your day with my silky voice

To reignite your spirit

But I never did

Could it be pride that keeps interfering?

I know I should have at least called just to say a word or two

I hope you know I miss you

I won’t shrink back to tell it to your face- but I know you can sense it and how my life is empty without you in it.

Everytime I use the Kasoa-Mallam interchange, I remember our silly little fights and what could have been

I remember how you used to buy bananas and eat all in the trotro

The things you did with your arms around my shoulders when you sense I am nervous

Your constant stealing of glances at me when I am not looking

I know I don’t have a right to ask, but do crave Jollof all the time?

Do you still sleep without bathing after close of work?

I finally got my old flame back and I am not going back to my former. You should be here to see

Sometimes I hear you laughing and saying “yesss” (just like how you imitate your boss) my mind’s ear;

It creeps up so suddenly on me that I can’t help but just freeze.

Last night I dreamt about you and our last spree

It was one of a kind;

When I woke up, I thought about what we had,

And what could have been,

And whether or not to dial your number

Believe me, Jessica. I almost called..

To a long lost friend.

Anytime someone’s image pops in mind, give that friend a call. You may never know when is the last time…

A GRADUAL PROCESS

Where I come from, drums speak and so does cloth

Weavers create poetry out of textiles

Tell stories with colours

Purples for healing

Black for age

White for new life

And Everytime I woke up from bed,

I am greeted by my baby pictures

wrapped in Kente cloth

a patched work of my parents hope for me

A month more to go

To embrace my fears of Adulthood

To catch a cruise of the adult struggle

And the one question that pops up in my mind Everytime

“How many times do I need to kiss frogs before a Prince”?

Image: pixabay

IT’S NO FAULT OF MINE…

…and as I walked through the familiar path of potholes that led to the doorsteps, where we had spent many starry nights cuddling and looking into each other’s sunken eyeballs, memories came flooding back as the fragrance of the rose bushes wafted over me. In my mind’s eye I could see him shirtless, flashing his usual signature smile and barbecuing pork chops in the garden. Pork! How we used to race each other to Korkor’s domedo joint.

@poetessakosua.wordpress.com

Hi

I have plans of passing by after work today. Do you mind? You may have to entertain me with the usual because I’ve got a lot on my mind and I need a distraction. Hopefully, I don’t get to forget I have a meeting tomorrow..

See you soon.

Cecilia.

My knocks on the door were feeble and evenly timed as though I was uncertain of knocking in the first place. Suddenly I realized my throat had gone dry and my palms were getting sweaty. At last, I took courage to send in a few knock and called out “Kekeli, Kekeli,…agoo are you in there?”

He came out shirtless, stared deeply at the figure standing in front of him. It was as if he wanted to say his last words and all. his heart thumping excitedly against his chest, The emotions bottled up on the inside pushed upwards threatening to choke him… He took another long and careful gaze and smiled.

Hey you…

before anything else, I have something to say. Don’t get alarmed! Nothing’s happened! Nothing’s been said! We still are the good friends we deceptively tell ourselves we are despite all the signs.

have you ever felt that way before? When the one person you’ve ever TRULY loved is that one person you very well know you aren’t allowed to??

I mean can you imagine all the restraint and emotional willpower it’s taken me to roll along, stay mute and pretend as if nothing is happening to me?

Maybe it’s an infatuation, sis, but what I do know is I’m elated when I’m in her company; when all her focus is me and the kind of vibe is unexplainable.

A love that may never well be…

I have no idea if the gods have anointed her as the one for me, all I know is when I’m with her I’m spurred  to be better; to do better; to look out for the best in me… if ‘us’ would ever be; if ‘us’ would ever materialize but this I do know…. Her ilk is rare…

Demedo : Fried pork usually sold in the evenings at a busy spot or joint.

… OUT OF YOUR LEAGUE

1st July, 2021.

I could have sworn they had a good chance to make a headway.

But like a hurricane, it left him running to find comfort and peace somewhere else.

I heard you are doing so well and that work has taken a better part of you.

Yolanda, it filled my heart with hope for just a few days- until reality hit me.

Kobby…

You see, the thing is, with you, I never even stood a chance.

We seemed to be on two different worlds. You and l. We never stood a chance.

You had your head always buried in books and I had my heels hustling for my daily evening meals- Kenkey and fish.

She had you “the Accra-East Legon-Accra” kind of life. All I need is to save pessewas and change from trotro mates before I could get a ticket to Tafo in Kumasi.

I couldn’t afford to take you to peduase Lodge and not even national theatre to see Ebo Whyte’s stage plays.

However, she had it all…

And I lost in the ring: hands-down!

I can’t afford a bouquet of roses, a Louis Vuitton bag and Christian Dior perfume.

You are way out of my league!

And when I compare my family to hers, she slays in it better than I do.

Maybe, just maybe, that could be a factor…

You see, every mosquito bite I have on my legs was as a result of staying up late in the night, trying hard to figure out how, and why you couldn’t just take me as I am.

And even though I’d to do one hell of a job loving you, you never gave me a chance to.

But then again, that’s your loss. Yes.

Never will you know what it feels like to be loved by a poor person.

But I will love you with the love that walks some extra kilometres in the scorching sun to your house just to see you.

I will love you with the love that whips up poems to make Shakespeare feel unaccomplished.

Unbridled love.

Passionate.

Intense.

Real.

The kind that money cannot buy and makes you want to give thanks to God always.

The kind that makes you want to shout “hallelujah” and “Amen” when everyone is quiet in chapel.

I will give you random hugs- hugs for no reason, hugs when I remember how lucky I am to have you.

You will feel the love in my voice when I say I love you.

I will look at you like you are my most prized possession- because, indeed, you are.

Yes, that kind of love.

Even if I can’t be the one to love you, I hope you find someone who can love you even half as much as i would have, if i had been given a chance to.

*JULY WRITING MARATHON*

BEHIND THE LENS

Behind the cash machine stood her glowing in her lens
As I saw her come near,
Nothing a man could do but silently cheer.
A sight as beautiful as the sea
A smell as good as popcorn popping at the movie theater

A word, for a moment, could not be uttered
Confidence was all that mattered
But backward or forward I couldn’t move
At last, the inner feelings conquered and expressed itself to her
We both had admiration for ourselves.

Behind her lens is a woman,
Not by her adorable beauty alone,
Not by her incandescent smiles alone,
Not by her angelic voice alone,
But a woman who could see a million miles ahead of what her lens could see
A woman who would not make love a theory
A woman who would positively impact your life with a minute’s encounter

And now anytime I sit idle in her absence,
There is nothing I could do than to play with words.
This woman is rare,
This woman is real.

Guest Writer: KWABEN ADU DANQUAH

IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT.

I have two sides
I want to address
One side pricks hearts
The other warms

Friends, recently I have been at bay
Trying to think, understand, and reconsider humanity.
Lost I am now.
Tangled in a web.
Trying to make amends.

People, understand this.
I can spot fake from a far.
I am a poet: act according to the way I feel.
I have been in confusion with humanity.
Yes, humanity!
Humanity murmurs behind my back.
It tells me I am black.
This strong pain in my chest hurts.
I am a poet: weaving words as beautiful as the rainbow.
Warming weary hearts with words.
But my other side seizes sight of friends.

In darkness of the night I try friends.
I try to reconsider and not to remain silent.
Humanity won’t just allow this secret.
Humanity talks and the fragility of this heart can’t contain it but to remain mute.

©June 2019

Silent Reflections

1

Oh where do I begin

How do I begin this story

One I’d never wish to tell

A story of solemn reclusion

One of hibernation

Of silent reflection

2

Growing up,

At age 5

I was indirectly taught to bottle up my emotions

I was told it was seen as perfections

I was told it was for the attention
I was told not to voice out the odd

I was told society will never defend if it goes wrong

3

At age 10

I stopped caring

I lived in my skull

I bottled up feelings

I cried bitterly within

I stole the moments

I stopped caring and became reclusive

I caged my words.

4

At age 15

Writing became my safe haven
Ink bled from my fingers

My words were all I thought

My soul stayed hidden between

the pages of my notebook along

with my words

5

At Age 20,

Growth and maturity paid a visit

They told me to let it all out

Not to bottle again

I did listen to them

I questioned the sanity of this boldness

I was lost and in reclusive

At age 25,

I was a victim of flirtatious abuse

It caused me to live my life

hidden from the world

through total lack of confidence

I’d lacked throughout my life; no one there to comfort me words of encouragement.

A stranger reached out to this lonely soul

He was there to answer all my prayers

My faith never rekindled from dwindling

I was lost because I let myself go

If there was anything I learned, it was that my words

are mine and mine only

©June 2019

I’m losing it!

12 a.m

Sleep refuses to set in
My mind goes to a long journey
One of bliss and bloom
Makes me want to shun reclusion

Makes me want to imagine how you made me feel

What is it about you that haunts me?
I let you go so I can set my mind free.
You meant everything to me and now, I have to treat you like a stranger,
Take me back to when we smiled sweetly
That look on your face; I swear it was flirtatious.
But I felt for it anyways
it isn’t our time to be together.
I’m losing my sanity
I’m losing it because of you

I was completely lost before I met you.
You gave me reason to live and direction to follow.
But now we’re back to square one,
And the loneliness has already begun.

I promised you’ll never be my muse
Because this reclusion will affect our relationship
You promised never to let go of me.
Yet here we are, far apart in distance and in thought.
I wonder how we’d be if I hadn’t told you…

How I felt

And right now, reclusion is the best option
I regret my decision, now I’m loosing it
I’m losing my sanity
I’m losing it all because of you
A life without you, is no life at all.

With several attempts I lost faith.
I think it’s goodbye, this is our fate.
I’ll always wonder if I made a mistake,
If I could’ve avoided all our heartaches
I’m losing it
I’m losing my sanity
All because of you.

©May 2019

Image: Pixabay

TELL THEM!

As I write this piece I have a lot going on in mind now. The words I wish to convey hurts me greatly because it is like a dagger drove into my soul.
Many reasons and perceptions I can’t change and many mistakes can’t be wiped off entirely. These are like scars that people see any time my image pops up in mind.
I have tried the game of suicide but failed on number of occasions. Weary and weeping my eyes grow. I have tried running away from what seems to be a threat but it obviously hurts the present generation.
I want you to know that when I pass on, may this piece and many others be read to this generation and the generation to come.

Tell them of my Depression, which led to rejection and dejection.
Tell them of the Vilifications I had to endure because of miscommunication and Judgement.
Tell them of the respect I lost and didn’t earn because I failed to accept people of varied culture.
Tell them I so much hate myself of having to live with this Anguish and frown clothe by this present Day.

Tell them I fought but lost this battle.

As I write this piece I have a lot going on in mind now. The words I wish to convey hurts me greatly because it is like the burns I had five years ago.
Crap! I can still feel the pain and groans. Sometimes I am not perturbed at all because I just gave nature a cause to make mockery of my mourn.
September 4, I ate nothing for supper rather, the dispiteful words I knew were intended to correct wrongs.

I’ve got it this time around and sleep refuses to set in. I end this piece with Love. Help me understand myself, find myself, get out of depression and weary. Rather, don’t victimize me because I need you now.
Tell this, when I pass on!

Poetry

©May 2019

THE WORSHIPPER

I was no woman of god, but watching you talk about Jesus Christ and Salvation makes me want to experience God more.

I was no believer in the afterlife, but I’ll end this lifetime just to know you all over again in another world

I was of no strong faith, but before I speak, create and think, my mind goes to a heavenly land.

I am no Greek goddess, but I will drink every last bit of you until you flow like ichor in my veins
You, You, is all I need right now. Listening to your voice, words, gives me strength.

The Worshipper.

‪And I am no temple, no mosque nor church, but call me your sanctuary and lay your prayers unto me. Let me be your Bride and you, my groom.

Teach me and direct me to the heavenly land.

You know I am no holy woman, but with you, I know I will be One.

© 2019