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.


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.


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…


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


…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.



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.


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.


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.


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.




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.



To everyone dealing with an unrequited love, listen to this song first before reading my poem! (Boys2Men)👈👈👈👈

Silly me!

Yes, Silly me!

I remember vividly telling this hollow heart of mine never to awaken
This grotesque of emotions I struggle to decipher
Here I am now reliving it and throwing tantrums at Love
The only essence my heart still beats for you

How I wish I could tell this heart to stop
Did love ask me to make myself a fool?
Or mine wasn’t enough to debunk the cliche of wise men about love?
Did love ask me to day-dream about the impossible
To leave my heart as a remnant of questions whose answers you have in store?

Yet I still wonder the patience I get just to hold on

We’ve been at this for far too long
Can you just tell me what my itching ears need to know already
You can’t deny you have the left piece
Of our right to peace in the heart

I feel starved
When you touched me
I felt alive and a woman
I felt alive and yours
I felt alive and wished it was forever in your arms
However, love thrives on wills rather than on wishes.

You’re the reason I update my timeline with strange insignificant messages I wouldn’t budge to read on a regular day
You’re the heavy traffic on a Monday morning, you piss me off a lot.
Yet I still wonder the patience I get just to hold on

On Tuesdays at prayer meetings, when my eyes are closed, I sense your presence and your image pops up a lot.
You make me break the very first and second commandments of God
I know He’s a jealous God but I can’t help it

You’re the laughter at a weak joke I have with my girlfriends every Wednesday evenings You brighten my day. You’re my shade on a rainy day,
you have my back dry.
You’re the bank alert on a bad day, you lit my soul
You do

Please do not hold back from me the very support I need for life.
It may sound unrealistic to you
But even if I could survive a day without you
I want to still live it with you
Let’s make it sound realistic
I’m tired of imaginations and poetic license
I’m tired of rhyming words that have no answers.

Just look me straight in the eye
Stand before pupils who can’t lie about the light of love you shine on me
Sometimes all I want to do is lay next to you
And listen to the beat of your heart
I just want to close my eyes
And fall asleep in your arms whenever I find it hard sleeping
I just want to feel you inside me and forget about the world and its cares

Even if you couldn’t give me all that my heart seeks
I pray thee grant thy maiden with the sanity of a heart to love again

Poetessakosua & Wisdom knot

This Match isn’t Heavenly Made!

Listen to this song before reading my poem.


Do you want me to continue a story that has no reality?
I’m certain this match you intend to create is not a heavenly made
Somehow, your flirty charisma managed to awaken my muse- a dead muse has been haunting
Now, I see myself stuttering all the time.

It’s like when I first met you;
my shyness wouldn’t let me be.
My tongue has left my mouth;
my hormones have betrayed me.
Adrenaline is reacting negatively,
and dopamine rarely makes any sense.

My tear glands are rather unleashed pouring out acidic tears on my cheeks:
tears that I didn’t budget for.
I should be ranting prayers for God’s perfect creation
But here I am second guessing myself
Lying to my hollow heart and being so hard on it for nothing
I must say, your charm is deceitful
Working together so hard on this weakling mind of mine
But just like an ordinary writer, I fall for this! “Peeves”

I am caught in the shadow of time:
I am drowned in fear:
fear of the daunting distance;
fear to live only with memories;
fear of the obvious unexpected.
Don’t think of me as a weakling,
I am only young, with a slippery mind.
Too many thoughts pace the path of my mind.

When will time heal this charm
When will geography close this particular Chapter?
I don’t want to have anything to do with you- isn’t this so simple to understand?
Can my writings make up for the warmth of your presence?
I am confused; I am concussed; I am helpless!
I have many questionable answers than answerable questions —
I’ll defer my questions until further notice.
I have been ranting and writing…or maybe my words are a waste to you. Communicating no message.

So let my emotions comfort me.
So stop playing games with my mind.
My emotions get a better part of me
I don’t need you to harden them
Need I say more? I’m patient to a fault!
I write and fail to speak like the way I write.
Isn’t that strange to you…

I am unencumbered by the vexatious songs of sinister birds:
Songs that reverberate that my wait for you is a wait in vain.
I’ve corked my ears to negative thoughts,
But God, be my witness- I have had enough of this Charade.
because I’m certain that this match isn’t heavenly made.

Poetry by : Poetessakosua

Image: Sandra Addo’s Gallery

Baby, look Up!

You are who you are
There is no changing that
Embrace who you are
You can only hide behind a facade for so long
So come out of hiding now
Baby, look up!.

You are who you are
A chance to make it work again
A new brand awaits you
When it’s easier and less harm to your self-esteem
We look at ourselves and disgust is what we taste
But we take for granted who we are
You lose yourself in the shoes of others
You forget who you are
Baby, look up!

Pity yourself for not being perfect
But most important of all
You begin to disgrace yourself
The self hate sits in like bitter medicine
The cuts on your body cry scarlet
And yet all this insignificance
Costs you your life that has more importance
Than what you are or aren’t.

Baby, look up!

Revive the New Brand!

Martial Teacher
Written by
Martial Teacher

Image from Jo’s gallery


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.



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


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


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


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.


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


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