They say the guinea-fowl lays her treasureWhere only she can find it.Akosua ‘Nowa is a gunea-fowl:Go tell her, red ant upon the tree. I met Akosua ‘Nowa this morning;I greeted: Akosua, how is your treasure?She looked me slowly up and down,She sneered: The man is not yet here who’ll find it! Akosua ‘Nowa has touched…
I waited for the restlessness Of your hands Holding all harvest of love. At dawn You walked in the wide fields of men Who held you in their embrace. You returned to the waiting crowd Offering each one His full vessel.
how long will you fight little ant before you are crushed? surviving rocks and oppressive jungle you felt invincible strode on the sands of the great lake mocking the hissing waves, yet you cling to a stone in its chuckling belly while they reach increasingly for your soul- not even the printed page floating so…
The Spectacle of YouthI loved the children of the lionWhen their manes were beginning to grow,Simulating the ancient heroes.I knew the greatness of their futureWhen they leap on the tender necks of antelopesWhich prided themselves on their fleetness.I praised the skillfulness of their power,Knowing how soon they will be killing buffaloes.
I danced away my first few hours of this new decade No heartache in this young renegade Drunk in this new brigade Spinning harder than the clap of the fireworks Burning brighter than the shadow that lurks No more heartache in these young renegades If not the whole era at least tonight is ours ]ust…
Clock and season march, each day more mellow, since time must nourish youth beyond blossoms: the new furred power glints in early patterns, brought with true focus to your beauty now. Words drift in multitudes from your replies, who’ve chosen foreign life: I ponder snatches. We cross like shadows, young and watchful insects. My time…
What if time cast its candle into a pit of winds And night extended beyond the brow And wearily the sea hugged the shore And light faltered during the celebrations And I embraced a man’s shadow What if The city departed for another planet And children regained their angelic wings And ballot boxes were abandoned…
I am Eratosthenes’ heir — the librarianwho measured earth. He took an obelisk,a well, the sun, and made a triangle:geometry, simple and accurate. A cartographer of sorts — I measureearth with words. I have drawn roadsand made them impassable. I have laidrailroad tracks to serve as escaperoutes. I have surveyed rivers andseas by touch and taste….
People of the City by Cyprian Ekwensi narrates the city life of Amusa Sango who doubles as a crime reporter for West African Sensation and leader of the band music players. He plays at the All Language Club where he thrills the hearts of many women with his music. His stay in the city is…
Upon naked skin I write. Upon the ardent expanse which covers me and accompanies me throughout life’s journeys. Upon my pores a pleat a portrait of abrasions. Upon the gashes outlines of a filigree of scars. Upon this silent collapse which sometimes reacts to caresses. Oh, the wail! which in other women invokes absence. Upon…