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Four Poems

 


By Geosi Gyasi


 

Wednesday, July 2, 2014.

 

 

The Cockcrow

 

 

Day-Night! At the spur of lilliputian voices!

 

Whistling nexus between countrymen and

 

refugees, they come to party.

 

 

Their strange voices awaken

 

To each and every one a day to recall

 

this epoch-making assembly.

 

 

In the King’s palace

 

Feathers washed and rewashed

 

Cleansing of the multitudinous years of wandering.

 

 

After dawn, before the cock crows

 

The chief linguist sent to places far and wide

 

Drums and flutes sound: sounding poems of welcome.

 

 

In their camp, a poem of thanksgiving enchanted

 

A tintinnabulation of bells in the King’s honor

 

Whilst the cock crows, crows and crows.

 

 

 

Death?

 

 

From the beginning,

 

I am a funeral; ready to be

 

deposited into the abdomen

 

Of mother earth. A bunch of

 

luminaries encircle my lifeless

 

body, my bony skull already

 

make history. Paper and ink mixed

 

as blood bank, and flow swiftly as

 

words of poetry, rhyming from line to line.

 

News about me flow like flood of water,

 

reminiscing about the days of Noah. I am

 

alone, yet not lonely. Many have gone

 

before me, sadly, more recent the demise

 

of the storyteller Maya Angelou.

 

O, you death, you’re a sinner? I reach out

 

to the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and

 

end; and find consolation in Him. The end

 

of death unknown to me –

 

darkness forever? I leave with tears in the

 

eyes of many: sobbing, whimpering.

 

When shall you cease to exist? My arms cold,

 

my writing hobbled. I become unfinished,

 

like a seat of wood. Still. Stock-still. Pregnant

 

with statue-like poetry. In my uterus is the

 

fetus poem – Death?

 

Death? Who shall carry on?

 

Where are the brain surgeons?

 

Who shall test my blood samples? And

 

fish out my unfinished handiwork? I look at the

 

soil dag out for me, six feet, and the maggots

 

multitude. Yet gesture with a wave of hand, bliss

 

in the air. I see in vague, though, as a newcomer,

 

to this new world of darkness; thronged with fellows

 

but old-guard writers. Dead. Gone. One more goodbye,

 

explicitly to my devoted readers. Wipe your tears,

 

warm your kerchiefs.  Keep hope alive. I shall soon

 

return with a posthumous book of poetry.

 

 

   

 

Emergency

 

By Geosi Gyasi

 

At the rim of the tunnel

 

Flowing labyrinth of waste cancer:

 

Polythene, plastic, rubber, clothes,

 

Papers, metals, wood, even water -

 

Hustling deep into a fissure

 

Only at a snail’s pace, until it locks up

 

At the lip of the tunnel; pleading, mercifully:

 

Let me flow,

                       Let me go.

 

Time flies, like a passing day

 

Waiting for tomorrow to arrive

 

But that day never comes

 

And the noxious redolence from the tunnel

 

Travel our villages and even beyond:

 

To towns and cities.

 

 

Our children suffocate by night

 

While our fathers and grandparents

 

Vomit by day.

 

The sky is gloomy,

 

            The sky is miasmic.

 

An emergency looms in the corner

 

Years build-up of mountainous growth

 

Like a forest of muddled grasses

 

Yet we’re charged inflated taxes

 

Which travels swiftly into --

 

the crevices of undeserved pockets.

 

I wish I could take on the doctor’s coat

 

And submit you and you into the solitary

 

Emergency room, and castigate you there and then.

 

 

Fool’s god

 

 

Dent of hope

 

Forty something years of

 

Existence; still searching!

 

 

I’ve been ferreting

 

Quite unduly maddening

 

What I have not; so still searching!

 

 

Memories never robs off

 

it’s jacket, off me; what’s

 

the world come to?

 

 

Nothing is working

 

Working is nothing

 

All these years of hanging

 

On,

 

 

to:

 

 

Bosom – the god in the forest.

 

 

All foolishness is mine:

 

Of several years of wastage;

 

Of several years in the wilderness;

 

Blindfolded,

 

Hoodwinked to execute

 

Hunger rites, bloodshed:

 

Of chubby goats, flabby

 

Chickens; perfervid belief.

 

 

I am still searching!

 



Geosi Gyasi is a Ghanaian writer and poet. Gyasi’s writing credits include several poems published in online magazines like Kalahari Review, Africanwriter NigeriansTalk. Gyasi blogs at GeosiReads




 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetry By Geosi Gyasi

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