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Tuesday, 28 October 2014

Mirror Mirror On the Floor written by J.Y. Frimpong & Maame Afua Agyeiwa

 
Her beauty is radiant
Every curve well formed
Eyes gleaming and brilliant
With this gift she was born
 When she talks
She speaks light
A ray piercing through a cloudy sky
Darkness flees in fright
Her wisdom is divine
Her values in no way flawed.
But in a mirror
She sees horror


 In her soletude
Behind closed doors
The walls tell a different tale
A tale of lack of self confident
A bitter tale of daily caustic bile of skeptism
About who she really is.
She is thrown into confusion
Thrown into a pit where she does nothing
But to look for her very own self and soul


 Remembering her father brings her much joy
He called her princess
No care in the world
All is well
Her own sanctuary
Where she can be Queen
And here she likes to remain
As the world rotates
She's in her own orbit.


 Deep in her heart,
She is afraid of her own sanctuary
A claustrophia where there seem no awakening.
Yet we all knew very well that
She is a pearl, she is a work of art
She is what I look to
She is what I want to become
But thoughts of doubts fill her head
Like an intravenous therapy which instead of curing her
Makes her rather sick of her own shadow


She  takes a deep breath  to clear her head entirely
Her days have been better
she had enjoyed all life would offer
Going and coming as she willed
Never once did she stand still
Along With the girls from her youth
She once thought she knew truth
But a newer version appeared so sudden


 She smiles
And the feeling that comes along with it is tears
She moves
And her legs respond by not moving at all
She sighs
She feels trapped in her solidarity
Yet she screams
I am free
 A hand comes down
Pulls her out of her misery
She has lived to tell her story
And she will leave a legacy
The world will see her brave and strong
And never forlorn
Not setting standards but being the standard
Onward to victory.

Friday, 24 October 2014

ABRACADABRA written by J.Y. Frimpong & Akosua Dufie Boakye




They call it magic
Magic when I elevate in front of them
Magic, my precious jewel
A possession I will bequeath to you dear daughter
A treasure that will bring all your dreams to life
They call it magic, when I get lost in the cupboard
They call it magic, when I make them happy
Magic when we make the impossible happen.
So go ahead and cut me into two

 Say it triumphantly 'abracadabra'
Oh! Let the cheers subside your suspense
Golly! Laugh loudly like the pendulum clock
With Papa and I
They say
Aw, we sniff savouriness
Ah! They know not
That Papa and I
Ne'er do well
Ha! They 'heareth' not
Papa and I
Adroit 'bunkos'
Papa! Tonight the wind
Howls, swirls powerfully
Its effacing my body in disarray
Say it
Papa... 'Abracadabra'
The wind still howls
Papa 'sayeth'
Abracadabra!

 It’s the fault in the stars
Don't put my soul on the open road of pain
No drug, no abracadabra can cure you
And you know it.
If I could, I would have
But it so happens that
It’s not everything that magic can cure
And it’s something beyond our comprehension
The alienation that magic presents!
Yes they call it magic
We call it magic
But we all know that in truth
Like my body it only cuts our dreams
And hopes into two

 Papa, in you
Is a 'muchacho'
I run crestfallen forth
To the oak tree of old
I beseech fervently
The fresh marine of the valleys
I envisage holistically
The smell of the opened sunflower
Is it west or east?
Papa, sayeth not 'abracadabra'
Show me Papa
The same oak tree of old
The oak tree of old

 Feel me, feel the scars that mark my body
I scream in my mind, when I see you
This art is what keeps blood in our veins
Food in our stomach.
It is mere pretense, antiquated tricks
The small whisper, the thin wire
The glue and all the dark tricks
Maybe it’s time that I wake up to reality
Wake up and accept my failure
I could have been an oasis of hope
You could have been the perfection you always wanted
But I chose magic
And I chose your ruin
Go on and paint the failure right on my face

 Papa
Glisten thy colours
There is a 'mujer' in your wand
Peguin in your chant
Papa
Sayeth not Abracadabra
Our walls thimbled
Yet we will build with thickest honey
Swerve, the sin of the king 'diabolic'
His seduction
No Papa
Sayeth not Abracadabra
Shh! Sayeth not.

Monday, 20 October 2014

FIX ME written by J.Y. Frimpong & Amma Konadu Anarfi

 
 
 

You paint your world black
You want your heart so cold
So cold, hell can only
Dream of melting it
And you pride yourself with it
Once upon a time,
You broke my heart
Once upon a dark light
That shone on me,
There was neither glue
Or hope that could hold
What you broke together
 
 
Too many pieces scattered on this cold floor.
Too many bloody pieces splayed at my feet.
You see me tremble and perhaps I deserve it but these hands
Were not trained to cradle
These hands do not do gentle
You dropped your heart on my lap and I dared to touch
 
These very words you call a lullaby
These very hands you use to nurse and break me
To cure and kill me
I prayed that you would be human
Even if it was the last you could do
But you sat and dined with pieces of broken bottles
In one hand
My heart in another...
Piercing and breaking me down!
 
Tune your voice down to a whisper
And jab my hollow chest with your seething words
I loved you as myself,
Now maneuvering round pieces of you
I see I never loved me well.
 
 
Finish me with these words
Walk on the million pieces of my broken heart
Cut off my lungs as my presence cuts you like a pungent smell
You are
The difference between love and hatred
Cut me down
Shame cupid
For I will be dead
 
 
My apologies are senseless
Tears wasteful and mean
Witnessing your bated breath
Slow to a stop
I will stay silent
There is no euphemism for goodbye

 

 

Wednesday, 1 October 2014

The pain in rejection by J.Y. FRIMPONG and OSOMFO KWASI DANSO

You ignore me like I am half alive
You treat him with kindness for he just came
From a journey so far away
And I become the one whose value
Is just as the rubbish you throw away
You look at me and all
What you see is a lump of waste
But just remember that with time and distance
You will grow cold and miss me.
When I am away, you would wish that
I was here but I will be away out of your reach
 
 
 
The tributary of the eye wails with pain
But still remains a thin line of tear
Soaked in the existence of affection of the sight
Your care sits at the outskirts of your soul
I do not find solace at the banks of your heart anymore
'Cos its sand is mixed with writh,
The sign of the shadow wakes the long sleep of distance-and the still wind in this atmosphere plays a dissonance of musical silence
Why,
Do u take my breath out of me?
Is it my continuous presence at your sight?
My heart leaps a beat,
But I speak,
This tributary u disrespect,
Is a royal of a bigger rivulet...
 
 
Can you please not make me sad
For I am just like the other person
I am of flesh, I am of blood
I still have breath in me.
Life still runs through my soul
Treat me like how you are treating
This new person.
For I am always here with you
I can always be there for you
For one day you will miss me
One day, you will wish for my touch,
My warmth.

 My flute of harmony looks more like the noise of the vulture
Left on the land of the filth
The ancient call in your voice is off the hook
And catches no fish in my emotions again
I ply your land even in your dry season-
The waters of my soul flourishes the beauties of the flowers in you
What wrong warrants such treatments?
 
 

My heart weeps
But I won't weep
I will soldier on
Because a day will come
I shall be no more
And you will weep.
That day, you will put me on your shoulder
And take me to the graves
And there will be millions of miles between our hearts
And between the physical realms we live.
So hence, although I am here for you
I will not always be there for you.
Don't weep for me,
All that I want you to do
Is to dine with me on the table of brotherhood
Like what you are doing with the other person
For I am flesh, I am of blood
I am of the soul, but a time will come
I shall be none of what I just said
 
 
 The delectare of comfort lies only in the thoughts and tongues of man
It soothes the soul and elevates the spirit
I need me your consent
As a present to grace my troubled mindset
Time is but a flying piece
My presence won't be felt now but when I pay a visit on the land of the silent majority
But before I do-
I speak with a conscience as I let drip the affection, emotion and care in me
I only endeavor you to make good use of it and drink from its drops
My hope will still survive,
As I await your distant call with patience.