she was a good woman
blessed by the passion of the heart
and from the storage of good cheer
did she scatter loaves
towards the poor,
she made sure she tamed
their hunger;
Yes, they were poor
but certainly not needy,
as their children enjoyed
regularly square meals a day
She lay herself
on the cross of kindness,
crucified herself in justification,
sweating to make sure
a smile came upon each of their face
But she continued to be
wounded of their ignorance,
and left bruises
from the wildness of their nonchalance,
everyone took from her,
financial ticks,
till she became a walking corpse,
devoid of even blood,
They bore holes through her
with the proboscious demands
till she faltered
and they abandoned her.
By Kakraba Afful
I am dancing in emptiness
for verily do I know
that everything must be born
from the dew and mist
to stand in an eminence
This is the wisdom of the desert,
where the shackled bones,
and bruised skeletons lay,
all this cadavery from the
emptiness and drought in
the optical socket
The sand is my canvas,
I shall paint my portrait
with the wealth of silt
and from this prehistoric abode
do fossils live,
on the platform of defeat
do I erect my oasis
An empire where I do reign supreme,
and speak the glittering language
of the glory,
whre I sparkle endlessly,
that people may see me gleam
and gleam also,
like the diamonds they are.
By Kakraba Afful
If I give you my heart,
and expose the fact that
you unfurl my wings,
please promise me you
won't let those tears fall
If I should let you see
my soul's nakedness,
please tell me you shall
not shroud it with mockery
If I should look into your eyes,
and find solace on its own
because yours stare at me,
I shall smile like the summer,
and my worries shall
be all thawed away,
by the warmth of your touch
My love, here it is
the glass of my mortality,
the cup that bears
my sentimentality,
please do not break it
If I give you my heart,
and expose the fact that
you unfurl my wings,
please promise me you
won't let those tears fall.
By Kakraba Afful
Let no one hold him,
the might of his adoration
has put all forces to rest,
her, he wishes to hold tight,
power shall be the venue
and his arms shall never rest
Rewinded to the birth of history
his genuine craving shouts
with a persistence,
he vehemently brings his
humble petition before the clouds,
for the one
Let no one hold him,
there is lightning swimming
in his eyes,
and his heart strays away
from home, natural,
never to be prodigal,
it runs with an invincible energy,
as it sees a glittering diamond
in the womb of the meadows
And she...waits for him,
charmed by the magic of breathlessness
he does not look back,
but with a smile sure,
his heart seizes to roar
and all that was fades
and that is...sweetness
she kisses him.
By Kakraba Afful
They had consoled him,
sheltered him, shielded him
from the frowns of turmoil,
and so he easily believed...
that life was easily easy,
that he could rest, forever
and drink the cider of laziness
Now he possesses a bearded bib,
a baby calmly disguised
in the form of maturity,
he presently lives
with a castrated conscience
Every since he learned to walk,
everything has tasted like milk,
so sweet so enticing,
anything he wanted,
there it was;
this, in fact, was the magic of care
and now, being himself
is foreign, because lullabies
continue to cuddle his mind,
and belittle it to
childhood again,
the rise and fall
of a mentality never allowed
to walk,
still cries...
and hopes that lullabies
of joy, shall again, cuddle him.
By Kakraba Afful
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Subcategories
Festivals
The category focusses on festivals followed at different places of the world.
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