No one has ever painted God
But we reckon He is white.
No one has ever hugged a ghost
But we reckon they are pale.
Why does the mind find colours so tempting?
We claim the devil is black
And sadness a grimmer version of black
We claim the sky is blue
And water colourless like innocence
Why do we want to colour around us?
But JYF says
It’s only a true artist who is able to confuse a reader
Into believing that all what his mind thinks of
Is...
Saturday, 3 December 2016
Wednesday, 24 August 2016
Stay
The first day she left
You held the hourglass in your chest
And allowed the tears to be at sync
With the sands of time.
You said to yourself that
Love was like a novel written on the beach
It is only a matter of time that
The words are washed away.
Why do you still hold your phone in hand
Zooming it to see if her smiles ever spelt betrayal?
Why do you delete the photos only to play the voice notes
She sent you when she said she loved you like...
Sunday, 14 August 2016
Castles built by ghosts
The first angel came and I set her on fire
Then came demons and monsters
But you came and stayed.
Your face reminded me of castles built by ghosts.
You placed your photos on the walls in my heart
And said to the ghosts I had caged
"I am the one who lives in his head now"
They merely laughed at you.
You only did not know that
Love like castles built by ghosts comes down
At the sound of sad voices.
They are nothing real to hold on to.
JYF says,...
Friday, 12 August 2016
Faces
The choir is broken into a million pieces like my broken
soul.
My poems remind me of how I fail to make sense
Whenever I am called upon to conduct an anthem
For the marriage of the ghosts and the dark.
How can I conduct the choir
When all I have known is discordant melodies
Splashed on the faces of beasts?
Sshh! There is serenity in hopeless.
If you listen carefully,
You will hear Silence disturbing Noise
Or the wind playing the black and white...
Tuesday, 19 July 2016
Short Story: REWARD
Kofi was nothing like a gentleman but for the sake of things he had to pretend as one. He was to be a teacher, a profession he was in because his grades somewhat did not qualify him to go to the university like most of his friends. He had no love for the profession, his mother had suggested it to him! He graduated by strictly the mercies of God.
When he finished, he had one hope and that was to be posted to an all girls school. He had heard...
Friday, 15 July 2016
Short Story: HEALING
He tried to, first, love her, second, compare her to his favourite character in a novel he remembers half the lines and lastly, he tried to make her his all. But he failed. The afternoon he first saw her, he became restless, the afternoon she left, he became restless.
The very first day he saw her, he was with two lusting young fellows who were shouting false sexual escapades. “Oh! That girl? Lef am koraa. I chop her last year koraa ooo....
Wednesday, 6 July 2016
Death (co-written by Doyselle)
Death doesn’t come when you expect it
Not when you need it desperately
Or when you wait earnestly for it
I saw death pass by my window
But it wouldn’t come to me
Not even when I taunted it
Death comes when you least expect it
It creeps upon you in the afternoon breeze
When the sky is brightest and the birds cheeriest
It arrives at the dawn of the New Year’s Eve
Just when you step into the kitchen for a glass of water
It swamps up on you in the...
Wednesday, 8 June 2016
Curse of the moonlight (co-written by Kwame Botchway)
There is a curse in the shadow
Lurking around this ruins
On which we have built our dreams on.
Every night,
I whistle in dreams.
I see often a blind magician,
Who smiles in cauliflowers
"Build your home on this dream."
And so I would
Only to realise the doors lead to nowhere
The windows open to blockades
And the roof is rained mixed with thunder.
And in the lights behind the lid of our terrified eyes
I whistle again
Only to dream of us...
Sunday, 15 May 2016
Short Story: RE-LEARNING
I do not remember when but I know that at about seven years old I was very hardened.
, I did not really care and I could not understand why all the young people around me cared. They would constantly remind me that I was a girl, I needed to be soft and prettier. I knew myself as a survivor; ever since I had known myself, I knew I had to fight for myself and what was right. Once upon a time when I was a baby, I used to sleep on a piece of tattered...
Sunday, 8 May 2016
#Cinnamon
Your friends never told you
Mothers are like cinnamon
That their eyes are factories of sugar?
When you were born,
You tasted like a little war
A little atomic bomb
Waiting to worsen other wars and burn the world.
Then she looked at you
You were crying
And she said to you
"I can neutralize the poison in your...
Wednesday, 4 May 2016
Living in shadows
Your father taught you to be a runner and a winner
So you run into innocent ladies' heart and colonised it.
Your father taught you how to drink and quit
So your drank from the thighs of innocent souls
And quit when you broke their hearts
Like how your self has been broken.
Be a mason
Learn how to build your own thoughts.
Learn...
Monday, 18 April 2016
Short Story: Psyber
It seems everybody you meet on the streets is in one way or the other suffering from Psyber.Many are those who have been detained in mental institutions springing up in almost every part of the city. I just came back from one, they call it 'Adom Psyber Clinic.' It is not the glamorous of the psyber institutions...
Wednesday, 6 April 2016
Ashawo Lane (Part IV)
Skirts raised***
These marks like my shame
Are all over me like a rash.
Hold my breast
Fell my other 'body parts'
For your own amusement!
We are in the time
When tunes played make me erupt like a volcano!
Skirts down *****
Through the sirens,
You hear politicians say
"Vote for me and I will serve you."
Eyes closed*****
What I have learnt from the #AshawoLane
Is a...
Wednesday, 30 March 2016
A girl for KNUST SRC President
To start, I am not a feminist but I respect women. I believe the world has never been fair to women and sometime our objectification of women is something we have been socialized with when we were young and must never continue. We have trained women to believe that marriage is the most important. I believe marriage is a source of joy and (to some extent completeness)...
Monday, 21 March 2016
#AshawoLane
#
If you need me, I will be at my favorite spotStriped naked Ready to give you a taste of my Brown chocolate.
If you need me,I will be standing at my favorite lane With my phantom wantingOf being with you through the night Even if that will be the first and the last time We will ever see each other.
At my favorite lane, I meet politicians, I meet the sickBut never...
Monday, 7 March 2016
IF Hope was an ocean (co-written by Kodwo Hybrid)
If Hope was an ocean
Ghana would have been a landlocked country!
I have known Ghana
And she has known me.
In all these years we had known each other,
I used to believe like she did
That she will one day be as beautiful as she was meant to be
But time has told me in a baritone voice that
It never will
Yet my heart refuses to...
Friday, 4 March 2016
Serialized Novel: Tabitha 2.2
She couldn’t believe it, she thought it was those random numbers who were calling to make fun of her poor heart, she was about to ask for more information when she saw her husband push his son to the floor and advancing towards her. It then dawned on her that despite the caller not following the right protocol in telling her about the death of her children, the news was...
Friday, 26 February 2016
Serialized novel: Tabitha 2.1
ACCRA – 18th December, 2013: It so happens that fortune does not smile at all on some people. It also happens that disasters do happen for a reason. This disaster was terrible, it was painful, it left a question in our heart and mouth, and it made us wonder whether God existed at all
This was the very question, Mr. Afriyie, asked himself over and over...
Friday, 19 February 2016
Serialized Novel: Tabitha 1.2
The gatemen let go of the pregnant woman and pushed the door open and they all entered. The room was a bit sizeable and heavily furnished with the accoutrements, the doctor helped the women to put the pregnant woman on the bed and told them to wait for him outside. Because they couldn’t comprehend English, the gateman explained to them.
“The white man said go outside...
