I have always loved to try writing poems and these are a few I wrote when I was in Ghana please give me some helpful comments.
M. Koi-Larbi
REALITY CHECK
Dora dear, don’t lead me into the nightThrough depths of despair where nothingBut darkness will feed my senses.For I was used to so much light Before love clouded my senses You took over my heartAnd in my desperation to prove myselfI added unasked my mind.Love, Dora I hardly know How it should taste now Having so spoilt it by over-spicing itWith your flattery and turning it bitter and smelly Emitting the foulest odour from memory’s unattended sores. No Dora your perfume can no longer neutralise the stenchYour love stinks.Lullaby For Daddy
Daddy, in my mind you are asleepAsleep dead away in the deepDon’t ever think, if you still have that faculty at all,that we miss your call. For to us your children, your walking away was a blessing. Good riddance of your persistent tantrums and violence.Good riddance of your alcohol induced snoringO how often we have wondered how mum ever sleptAmidst that racket you raise even in your sleep.Now we are enjoying some peaceWhich we intend to keep We still bear on our minds the scars of the painYou inflicted on mum. We suffered with her silently And silently wondered why mum bore these all so silentlyUntil she said gently but firmly, ‘That’s enough’, When you could no longer stand the silent treatment You walked without a goodbye And we shed unseen tears as we stood by.Watching you sleep-walk into the darkIt was a day we deserve to markWhen we turned to observe mum’s faceInstead of pain, sorrow and regretThere was a smile and a song on her lips We have never seen her so radiant with beautyBut as you slumber on have no regrets DaddyBe content that you are above wrongFor we promise we shall be strongStrong enough to triumph in a life without youSo stay Daddy, stay away.
Regret? No way
If I had known that you would read this I would not have written itI would not have exposed my thoughts like thisIf only I knew itOr I would have written it But in a different way, perhaps. If I had known that you would read thisI would not have revealed that Most of our leaders turn out to be idiotsLed by their stomachsAnd of course their waists Yet we collectively took careIn a process free and fairTo queue all day to choose the niceUnderstanding it would be unwise To choose the wiseNot that we would have done otherwiseEven if we had known that Our leaders are on leashes, being led KENTEObserve the weaver’s hands and feetAs he weaves the intricate patterns. Watch him dance to the beat of the wooden shuttlesAs they criss-cross the woven stripAdding more colour to the culture Choice of colours seemingly incongruousYet blended into this beauty only the dexterous Fingers of a master can achieve This is harmony charmedOut of a chaotic assembly of colours.
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