Poetry By Geosi Gyasi

Four Poems

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By Geosi Gyasi

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Wednesday, July 2, 2014.

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The
Cockcrow

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Day-Night! At the spur of lilliputian voices!

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Whistling nexus between countrymen and

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refugees, they come to party.

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Their strange voices awaken

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To each and every one a day to recall

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this epoch-making assembly.

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In the King’s palace

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Feathers washed and rewashed

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Cleansing of the multitudinous years of
wandering.

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After dawn, before the cock crows

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The chief linguist sent to places far
and wide

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Drums and flutes sound: sounding poems
of welcome.

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In their camp, a poem of thanksgiving
enchanted

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A tintinnabulation of bells in the
King’s honor

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Whilst the cock crows, crows and crows.

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Death?

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From the beginning,

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I am a funeral; ready to be

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deposited into the abdomen

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Of mother earth. A bunch of

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luminaries encircle my lifeless

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body, my bony skull already

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make history. Paper and ink mixed

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as blood bank, and flow swiftly as

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words of poetry, rhyming from line to
line.

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News about me flow like flood of
water,

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reminiscing about the days of Noah. I
am

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alone, yet not lonely. Many have gone

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before me, sadly, more recent the
demise

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of the storyteller Maya Angelou.

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

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to the Alpha and Omega, the beginning
and

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end; and find consolation in Him. The
end

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of death unknown to me –

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darkness forever? I leave with tears in
the

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eyes of many: sobbing, whimpering.

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When shall you cease to exist? My arms
cold,

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my writing hobbled. I become
unfinished,

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

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with statue-like poetry. In my uterus
is the

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fetus poem – Death?

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Death? Who shall carry on?

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Where are the brain surgeons?

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Who shall test my blood samples? And

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fish out my unfinished handiwork? I look
at the

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

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multitude. Yet gesture with a wave of
hand, bliss

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

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to this new world of darkness; thronged
with fellows

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

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explicitly to my devoted readers. Wipe
your tears,

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warm your kerchiefs.  Keep hope alive. I shall soon

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return with a posthumous book of
poetry.

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Emergency

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By Geosi Gyasi

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At the rim of the tunnel

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Flowing labyrinth of waste cancer:

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Polythene, plastic, rubber, clothes,

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Papers, metals, wood, even water –

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Hustling deep into a fissure

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

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At the lip of the tunnel; pleading,
mercifully:

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Let me flow,

                       Let me go.

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Time flies, like a passing day

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Waiting for tomorrow to arrive

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But that day never comes

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And the noxious redolence from the
tunnel

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Travel our villages and even beyond:

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To towns and cities.

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Our children suffocate by night

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While our fathers and grandparents

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Vomit by day.

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The sky is gloomy,

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            The
sky is miasmic.

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An emergency looms in the corner

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Years build-up of mountainous growth

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Like a forest of muddled grasses

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Yet we’re charged inflated taxes

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Which travels swiftly into —

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the crevices of undeserved pockets.

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I wish I could take on the doctor’s
coat

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And submit you and you into the
solitary

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Emergency room, and castigate you there
and then.

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Fool’s
god

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Dent of hope

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Forty something years of

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Existence; still searching!

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I’ve been ferreting

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Quite unduly maddening

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What I have not; so still searching!

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Memories never robs off

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it’s jacket, off me; what’s

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the world come to?

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Nothing is working

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Working is nothing

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All these years of hanging

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On,

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to:

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Bosom
– the god in the forest.

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All foolishness is mine:

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Of several years of wastage;

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Of several years in the wilderness;

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Blindfolded,

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Hoodwinked to execute

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Hunger rites, bloodshed:

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Of chubby goats, flabby

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Chickens; perfervid belief.

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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.Â

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Poetry By Geosi Gyasi

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