Red Rains

I wonder if you have observed

a rainy day,

How millions of water drops spontaneously splash on the

red dusty clay,

If you were taking cover somewhere

far away,

You will gaze at the drops and wonder

when it will stop.

When it stops moments later,

there is usually

a mass of red water carrying debris.

This is followed by stories of showers of blessings

or

Torrents of destruction.

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Too long

Five hundred years ago, we were slaves.

Today we are servants.

The master has become the boss.

Of course, now we do not cut sugarcane or pick cotton or harvest tobacco.

But penury being the mother of servitude,

Makes us shine the white man’s shoes.

My tribesmen will say that if only the bull,

Knew how much strength was stored within him,

He will not allow a little boy to take him grazing.

The Rising of the Sun and The Warmth of Your Love

When the sun rises,

I see the face of love and I see it in you,

The vivacity and the warmth.

But I’m tired of seeing, I want to feel you in my arms.

Please don’t tell me it’s wrong to feel your warm body next to mine.

We should flow in and out, in and out, in and out.

Like the river Tano and Ankobra.

I know you on the outside but now I must know you on the inside.

The vast unexplored province within you – waiting to erupt.

The burning desire which you often hide from me.

Out of shyness and fear.

Did I tell you that I like the fragrance in your hair?

Oh God, I do…very much.