Tuesday, 24 November 2015

Geisha Black...


My mixed veggies console me at this time. The aroma is simply delectable. The garlic and ginger spices seem to have worked well. Yes. I'm watching my weight through life's lenses, and it doesn't look great. I have struggled to stifle my cravings at 3.00am. But vim! I'm trying.

Oh sorry. I lost track. These green peas, chopped carrots and grains of corn are soothing my pain. The pain of having found that my geisha girl is engaged and soon to be further engaged.

I laughed at the first time of asking. She said by March marriage would end her spinsterhood. Its good. What's not is that, I'm not sure if she's joking or not. She says whether its worth laughing at with my back on the floor and my dangling modifiers suspended, is up to me. How does that make sense? She's not even picking my calls.

Oops! My alter-ego just showed up. He's miming music, throwing my arms and pretending to be a rapper. And yes, the pants are dropped halfway. It's not me fault.

Thursday, 5 November 2015

Sonnet No.27


Miss pretty lights
You glow indeed.
Your eyes, they cure my blights
but bring pain to my Godspeed.
As I wake into your days' night
I see widths of violet bands.
Such streams from your temple's light
speak of grace in your vocal glands.

Miss sparkling hun
I need those incands on
Not to steal your shine, my sun
But to draw the days' dawn.
Hope the happy hormones came back
while the coughs and phlegm flu past.
With every sip of the oriental bark
I await the bliss of your penumbra cast.

Tuesday, 3 November 2015

Love Me Some...


I waited, bent over in my red couch
Spread my legs across the backrest
Found solace in my black comforter
Waiting for you to love me some.

Love me some please!
When are those walls Berlin-tumbling?
My barrels have run out and parched
Vacuum fills it to the brim till you love me some.

We’ve been here long on these girders
The waves nearly collapsed this bridge of ours
My silence screams out at the sight of you
Praying you’ll uncover you and love me some.

Do I sound selfish?
Okay I’m sorry but I don’t apologize
Many palettes I’ve seen and continue to
But I’ll remain color blind till you love me some.

Friday, 25 September 2015

See You Later Eddie.


It's hard
To know someone from afar
But yet you claim to be friends on the book.

I admired you
from a distance I did
I even learnt how wonderful your voice is.

But I guess I'd have to wait
To introduce myself and say
Hey Eddie, my name is Kojo.

You're where we're headed
Just intercede for us
Whilst our transit is almost over.

The choir just got upgraded....

x

Monday, 14 September 2015

Yellow Dwarf


I’m staring upwards at you.
Five thousand Fahrenheit mister scorch
My shades protect my pupils from your blaze
But I struggle to see, tussle to gaze.


It’s true, your photons attack my face
You’re brighter than Sirius yes.
But I’m coming for you.
I’m the new source, the new nucleus.


If fire should fade when I show up
Then why should you stay shining?
I must out-burn you
So days would oust nights forever.

Thursday, 16 July 2015

Masaki Magic


So I ask, should your senses be excited?

Why the question? Well...
I sought after and got turned down by a mungu. And her reason? .
"I haven't fallen in love with you". The weaver's woe has worked on her I guess.

Purpose has been displaced and now you've turned to Rosalinda, Esmeralda and "Cuando Sias Mia" for inspiration. Isn't that love as fleeting as the feeling that fed it? Doesn't it botch up your colorful warps?

Masaki has stricken you damn good, my dear.
Well, I better stock my belly with butterflies the next time.

Okay okay. I've moved on.






Words
Masaki - According to African Mythology, a Hausa spirit that inflicts weavers with occupational ailments. In this case its the sensual spirit (personified) that inflicts her with an earthly desire of love.
Mungu - Goddess(swahili)



Wednesday, 8 July 2015

Do You Like It Here?


"Do you like it here?"

Quit asking me that okay.
My continent, my country, and my skin don't rhyme with hell.
Have you heard? (gripping my right ear)


Your petty prejudices don't impress me nor my spirits.
When are you going to grow up? The only thing that separates us is your weird weather and five hours. 
Everything else is man-made or made of bread.

Honestly, your sense of humor deserves a slap when you keep asking me that. 
Drop those glasses keeping you short-sighted and tear down that misrepresented picture
of the world behind your bedroom door.


I don't appreciate you laughing at my accent either. I'm African and a proud one.
Tenk you!

Now let's go get some chinese at Long Garden.
Smh..


Tuesday, 7 July 2015

Ezeet Okay?



Is it okay?
To shave my life
Don't laugh, you heard no northern howler
I mean to apply the barbers' knife
And make space for growth on my scalp
Is it okay?

Is it okay?
To love a lady without proposing
Am I not doing that anyway?
With the bouquets and the bourgeois gifts
Do I have to bruise my knees?
And pick my heart to ask her?

Is it okay?
To drown in my sleep today
And be awoken by reality's breath.
Just on time to repeat boredom.
I thought "early to rise" meant more silver
I guess its not that simple.



Words
pick - to steal or rob of a possession (in this case self-love).
bourgeois - member of the middle class.




Thursday, 2 July 2015

Chop Keez!


Bring your lips
They look soo raspberry red
Splurged with nature's own palette
Don't form shy jaree.
Chop keez!

My intentions are verified
He's the past and us, the future
Let's begin the merge my malkia
Allay your fears my queen
Oya chop keez!

The harmattan is getting worse
Your morbid midomo need healing
I can't bear it no more
Just lean in much closer
Chop keez!

Okay okay!
So you're hesitant abi?
Just close your eyes
I've got a surprise in hand
Ahhh! The keez jus laaand!

Wednesday, 1 July 2015

Oh Stahp!


Oh Stahp!
I don't know you at all.
Now you think you might have feelings?
Okay let's think this through.

Is it because I text you often?
How can you love me so soon?
My heart is tender ooo.
More fragile than my own afro

Oh Stahp!
So are you as caring as you claim?
Or its just because your bed needs warming?
Even if it Fahrenheit freezes over, I don't care.

Is it really the way to your hungry heart?
The plastic packs of pilau and chicken.
Or its my melo melodies from Dar-es-Salaam
Don't push it, I'm taken.

Tuesday, 9 June 2015

MY TROTRO'S HELL





So I’m gone.
It’s hard to believe it myself. I’m charred. I’m without breath.
I just traded my day’s work for meagre wages. Sadly, fate blinded me to my own resignation.
On my way back, I called just to re-assure her despite the hours late.
I had no idea. That I would be late in a trotro standing in burning currents.
Who’s going to tell my story?
The story of my lost dreams. Dreams of living happily ever after with my queen.
Visions of growing old with her and our little twins.
I thought life was getting better. But I guess his evil brother was lurking.


So I’m gone.
It’s hard to imagine it. Because my imagination turned to coal.
I wish I hadn’t followed my dreams. I wish I stayed at home and feigned sickness.
And allowed my lack of ethics blow me further away from this blaze.
I wish I'd stayed at home.
And neglected the damned red, brown and green vanities.
Who’s going to tell it?
When I’m left speechless, drowned and drenched in the inferno that still rages.
Raging fiercely and forever till I’m forgotten.

In my trotro’s hell.

Friday, 10 April 2015

She Said Jollof!


We hardly talk nowadays. She said she's allergic to calls, so I withdrew the prescription. Distance made it harder than normal. But i figured Skype would defy relativity even if she wasn't my type. Is it possible to miss someone you've never met before? I think yes...because I've managed it.

Anyway, she said she loves jollof. Hmm.. my cooking skills are suspect ooo. I better get my culinary muscles in tip-top shape before we meet. It's not that I can't cook. My fear is that her taste buds must have evolved into an autonomous organ; knowing whether there's enough salt or pepper in the meal. Or whether the rice was half-cooked before tossing it into the tasteless gravy mix. The possibilities are endless.

I'm looking forward to pleasing her tongue...

Tuesday, 7 April 2015

GARISSA ATTACK


It sounds like a variation from a chess opening, which for chess proponents is almost commonplace. But ever since the gruesome murder of those students in Kenya, the character of the systems of this world have hit me harder than a batter’s swing at a baseball from the pitcher’s mound. From the lack of adequate worldwide condemnation of the attack, to the absence of home-grown solidarity.  It seems as though it never happened.

At times, feelings of despair reveal themselves when such events occur. In as much as several reasons may be purported as causes for such, lets sift through the many layers. Beneath these are hidden things that only the word of God can reveal. Revelation, that’s the spiritual ore within which the gold of insight thrives. We see in part, but Papa see all parts.

My prayers are not with “so-and-so” as the cliche goes, but rather, my fervent prayers are going up for the bereaved families, their loved ones and the Body of Christ. As a believer, I firmly understand that we shouldn't give up on our commission to preach the gospel. That’s the only solution.

Let’s keeping praying…

Daniel 1:17
As for these four children, God gave them knowledge and skill in all learning and wisdom: and Daniel had understanding in all visions and dreams.

Monday, 6 April 2015




“Let’s be friends", she said. I have some. Didn't have a verbal agreement with those. So I dropped the mic and walked.

Fast Forward….
So she agreed. We are going to church this evening on Monroe Street. I must admit, I wouldn't have invited her to church but for the insistence of my heart. It’s just a prophetic meeting but it’s a bit arduous to find the right combination. Yes, combination! I have managed to carve a niche for myself; looking presentable in God’s house. Go me!
My green African wear seems appropriate, although I might look bigger than I am. Hiding the pot-belly beneath it is a must. Well, I succumbed to the pressure of looking nearly formal and dropped the batik my sweet granny got for me back home. Hope its well hidden.

After...
I enjoyed church knowing very well what pastor said and its confirmation thereafter. By the way, Josephine looked great as always.


Sunday evening…
This weekend was an awesome flop. My friends and I were invited to matrimonial celebration and expectations soared ever since. At least mine. I even spent hours carefully ironing my fuchsia pocket square. Not that I wanted to impress a lady or something, like some kind of blind date would emerge from nowhere. Notin give me! Though I expected the norm, the white ceremony didn't suffice. Yeah I said it! I love white weddings.

But as usual, the incessant calls seeking to make certain the occasion’s occasion suddenly burst my bubble. It wasn't white and certainly not a wedding. Oh yawa o! As a side but very important note, she again found it fruitless to walk 10 minutes from her apartment to mine. Not that I mind, but my feet never override the code of being a gentleman each time I escorted to her apartment. I expected her to be…..well….. the friend she promised to be.
What a wasted weekend! I haven’t written a line of code but I’m hoping to recoup what’s been lost. Let’s try.

Sunday, 22 March 2015

Dark Room


DARK ROOM
“Let’s develop in darkness”
That’s the message I heard through the megaphone
When the communicator lead the few inches beyond his mouth
“Let’s close our eyes and improve our farcical fiscal infrastructure
With no electricity, water, a comical cedi and a paltry pesewa
We’ll attain lower middle income status.”

Let’s make sure we watch the African Nations Cup
Jubilating and cheering without limits till our tongues tire
Waiting to celebrate the result of our biometric charade and complain after
Let’s demonstrate and remonstrate in utter disgust
Talk about how corrupt “they” are and take our ten percent
Because "kpakpakpa" is a movement.

So although I promised that walking in darkness
would be a thing of the past, it’s now beyond me and my megaphone.
Because we're still living in the past, becoming a desolate Rochester to Apple’s advantage.
Just like Kodak we have strived to become Africa’s cautionary tale
An example on how to achieve a slow response to change

And continue to develop in darkness.