A Rhythm of Life

  Your smile, the first shaft of dawn’s light to innocent or weary eyes.

  Your laughter; ringing ripples of silvery chimes

  in the wind,

  Stirring the hearts’ desires

  of weather beaten men.

  Your sadness; burning tears in a flood of mangled emotions –

  Words too inadequate to express.

  Provider, nourisher, nurse, teacher, comforter;

  nation bearer.

  I am Woman – A Universe of Light

  Respect Me … Love Me … love me …

  Millennium Years

  LAST NIGHT’S STORM

  It hounded, pounded, whistled and cried.

  I didn’t sleep a wink last night.

  It rattled, complained with driving

  sheet rain;

  Heard a mighty explosion

  like cannon firing.

  Even now it’s howling in the street,

  The pressure bowing trees;

  sucking up sodden leaves.

  A cat screamed meow,

  someone shouted out loud;

  Pinned in their doorway,

  couldn’t move out.

  It’s still bellowing fierce,

  a talkative force

  Buffeting planes

  over London’s cloudy course.

  Nature, nature, sounding, sounding:

  Something’s changing,

  a lightning awakening ...

  LIVING IN A 21ST CENTURY UK CITY

  They ripped and kicked

  and tore her clothing

  It near caused a night of rioting

  And they declared she was a witch

  For complaining of behavioural antics

  The law expediently locked her up

  It was easier then to treat as such

  For it was to them black on black crime

  For such, why waste their precious time?

  They treated first everything as such

  Our taxes never counted much

  A camel would easier pass through a needle

  Than to tackle such domestic riddles

  And elsewhere where they left to fun

  The youth to run amuck as one

  With ignorant parenting too

  The problem over time just grew

  One shot injustice to another

  Where is the love you say for brothers?

  And where the line you draw as colour

  Reflecting hate so altogether?

  MAPPING IT

  By sea, air or land, a map is at hand

  To find your way through

  Beat motorway blues

  GPS locate, not wanting to be late

  Motorway lanes and signposts for speed

  To A roads and B routes,

  destined to lead

  Atlas for certain the world it will open

  With continent size distorted for guise

  Longitude, latitude, GMT atlas use

  From trains track the scenery

  Through towns, cross a river bridge

  By day or by night, if moon is in sight

  North, south, east, west;

  by stars you can trek

  Chart journeys together

  in all kinds of weather

  Driving by car when thinking of marriage

  Or maybe preferring a horse

  drawing carriage

  By rail, road or tube,

  there’s a map you can choose

  Distance, time, ask

  where you arrive or depart

  For travelling plans

  A map is your friend

  SPARROW

  Sparrow, sparrow do you know

  From where the seasonal winds do blow?

  See you darting in the skies

  Up and down the British Isles.

  You perch and hop low and high,

  I hear you chirping morning time.

  Be you tree or house sparrow,

  Streaky black ‘n brown, beware of owls.

  Sparrow, sparrow do you love

  Countryside or city hub?

  In holes in trees you build your nest;

  Spy you feeding seeds to chicks.

  Sparrow, sparrow will you tell

  Where rivers run and otters dwell?

  I do delight, I tell you true

  In watching sparrows as I do.

  FLIP FLOPS-A-KENTE

  These were no ordinary flip flops

  But an epic culmination of history,

  a story-a-Kente.

  These were Asante Ghanaian flip flops,

  Acquired on a life changing journey of a Returnee: me.

  Over a decade old, red, gold, orange, brown and green,

  With a pertinent hint of blue on the straps;

  These overcame my resistance to wear

  flip flops.

  As a child I found floppies tacky,

  uncomfortable ‘tween my toes;

  Well worn in Africa though

  So in Ghana I rediscovered them

  Under an African sky and sun.

  No ordinary flip flops,

  the Asante Ghanaian,

  The colours and stripes told a story lost to illiterate European eyes.

  Africans read them when I brought them home,

  when the sun was out.

  Africans stared up at me and looked to my feet and back to my eyes.

  They smiled, understanding probably my ignorance to read floppy lines …

  West Indians remarked:

  “Oh they’re nice …

  Where’d you get them then?”

  No ordinary flip flops,

  the Asante Ghanaian,

  They travelled with me to countries afar,

  Brought relief in hotels and hospital stays,

  Concealing traces of sand

  straddling far off lands;

  Embedded, ingrained in the fabric of straps.

  No ordinary flip flops,

  the Asante Ghanaian;

  It was sunny this year and as my feet love to breathe,

  It was time to subject them to more arduous wear

  But as the days grew sunnier my pounded floppies frayed

  Till one day when shopping they suddenly gave way …

  (Sigh …)

  I sat with my shopping,

  made a desperate call:

  “Where are you? You need an address,” the cab firm said firmly.

  Where indeed was I, I asked myself?

  I sat on a wall and thought what to do …

  Many taxis now cutting through this undefined

  back road.

  I asked passers-by the name, but some ignored or looked at me and laughed.

  I sat and pondered the chance of a

  Good Samaritan passing by.

  Soon loads of taxis began rolling past, more people too rushing.

  Then a black cab pulled up,

  I hobbled and asked:

  “Are you free ...?”

  “No” he replied.

  “I’m just visiting my mum …”

  with flowers in hand.

  I thought how sweet …

  I contemplated what else to do,

  just soaking up the sun.

  When he emerged again he shouted back:

  “What you still here?”

  I waved my Asante Ghanaians with broken hint of blue straps – he laughed.

  “You need to travel with a spare pair – come on …”

  I unceremoniously threw away

  my Asante Ghanaians,

  Just flip flops after all

  Having served their purpose,

  allowing me to meet

  a Good Samaritan.

  Kindness has no wear and tear …

  The memories poetically live on …

  Faith more enduring than anything you wear.

  (Smile)

  SOME WORDS ECHO

  Yet some words echo through time

&n
bsp; These tongues of dust revive

  Their speech lash corrective

  Through dubious translations

  Reframed, marking the here, the now

  As empires crash and quake

  The Trojan phoenix is engulfed in toxins

  Of its own insatiable drive

  The lustreless standard bearer’s eyes

  Stream mother’s liquid gold

  With rants of how great this Babylon

  A blood soaked banner flutters in the coldest night

  Devourer of nations

  Commanders of fear fall upon their knees

  As wounds fester in burrowing denial

  But some words annihilate death itself

  For iron and clay cannot support

  But Daniel, your words transcend

  your dust

  Your breath survives as pages turn

  And still the nightmare is not yet spent

  THE LUNCH

  The women met up as planned: Divorced, Separated, Abandoned and Betrayed. The children were at summer camp. It had been a while since they had a chance to get together. Those were the days, when time was your own. At thirty-eight, Betrayed was the only one without children. She’d been a bridesmaid at all their weddings.

  Divorced turned to Betrayed and asked how come she never made it up the aisle. Not that her own experience had been anything to write a symphony about, looking back at what the future had withheld.

  Betrayed answered that she just never found a man worthy enough and she definitely had not wanted to marry in order to divorce. The men she’d loved hadn’t displayed what it took inside to be mature and sincere within a sustainable relationship.

  Separated and Abandoned waded in with, they wished she had explained it to them like that before now. It just might have saved them a lot of heartache. Betrayed replied she didn’t think it would have made much difference in all fairness. Back then it would have just fallen on deaf ears, love having everything going for it. They ordered more wine.

  OUR VICES

  We wait on you Yeshua

  Now worldliness brings strife

  As the mysteries of ancient times

  Unveil within our lives

  The wantonness of greed abounds

  So that hunger stalks our lands

  Our fields far less than bountiful

  As tremors scatter men

  There are wars and rumours of more wars

  They fight for gas and oil

  Our leaders put our taxes up

  And there’s little wage for toil

  We pander to idolatry

  Our freedoms are depraved

  We pollute air, sea and countryside

  Treat our neighbours still as slaves

  Men rape, steal and are envious

  Our promises are lies

  We make guns, grenades, such weaponry

  While children play on mines

  Of science we pose questions

  In these prophetic times

  There are trees and bees less plentiful

  Below a blazing sky

  We have faith, belief and confidence

  Sustaining through these trials

  Tested in these dark hours

  Yah’s grace we recognise

  Love sustains when hope prevails

  Though storms, the torrents rage

  The remnant of thy people shine

  Beneath our flaring skies

  We pray come soon Yeshua

  For we cannot trust in men

  We wait on you Yeshua

  Mashiach, love, our friend

  REFLECTIONS

  She is daughter, mother, friend and lover;

  She shines in orbit like no other.

  What kind of beings did you wonder,

  Would tear a planet near asunder?

  And did this in so short a time;

  Did rape and pillage, pollute, malign.

  This world does not exist to serve

  Market forces, economic curves.

  Since beginning failed to understand

  The Mother on whose crust you stand.

  For she has certainly patiently borne

  Your fierce assaults upon her form.

  More than a third of trees now gone,

  Leaving what for youth to live upon?

  I write what I feel, what I sense,

  what I’ve seen:

  A living nightmare, not a dream.

  Those who connect amid a trail;

  Open curtains, remove the veil.

  The changing times, winds whistle true;

  A change is now spiritually due.

  Such gifts to you bestowed from promise,

  For daring hearts that plough through crisis.

  And ones in time a sense may grow

  To catch a thought that’s shared and flows.

  Others still can’t go between

  These intricately woven dreams.

  The living and the living dead;

  Consuming passions, bodies shed.

  Some attributes will be disarmed;

  Appreciating not guile, scorn or charm.

  The seas have valleys and land enough

  To bear those bodies to fire, to dust.

  You fashioned bells, that apt name tolls,

  For now they toll for those foretold.

  The Bridegroom comes soon for the Bride,

  To free from hate, war,

  Love denied.

  AUTUMN’S TREADMILL

  Light is fading

  It’s cold, abrasive

  Facing longer nights

  Green leaves mellow

  Brown and yellow

  Autumn has arrived

  Misty mornings

  Clock alarming

  Body sense awry

  Feel so jaded

  Last night’s raving

  Flashing through your mind

  Drink hot coffee

  Rush to catch the

  Seven thirty-five

  On the treadmill

  Routine, thankful

  Work keeps hope alive

  Simply crazy when, every now and then

  You want to bash your head against the wall

  No longer feeling worth it all

  Like you always thought you would

  You live the life you choose

  Or are you being used?

  Now faking it, doesn’t raise a hit

  You forfeit all or run with it

  Lucky to be paid

  And maybe later, dream of getting laid

  Light is fading

  It’s cold, abrasive

  Facing longer nights

  Green leaves mellow

  Brown and yellow

  Autumn has arrived

  TRANSCRIBE

  Will you touch my words by fingertips?

  Or read them on somebody’s lips?

  Will you hear by sign, so you can feel;

  Your mind translates to sense so real.

  One sits below on motor chair;

  Has scaled challenging sum of fears.

  As pages turn, to characterise;

  Adrenaline pumps and tears are dried.

  NATURE’S RHYTHM

  Morning light breaks

  to birdsong awake

  Beetles seek shelter,

  ‘neath stones club together

  Snails leave slow trails

  to hide in the shade

  Far busier bees,

  choice flowers do tease

  As squirrels hightail

  on the fences they scale

  A basking puss purrs,

  having best of all worlds

  The urban fox trots

  for forests forgot

  Butterflies dance,

  a painted mute waltz

  Grey skies grow dim

  with a fluttering wind

  The drizzle it brings,

  glazing all things

  Spiders weave tales

  yo
u can read in the rain

  Enchanting the eye,

  as one can divine

  CHAMPIONS SONG (lyrically)

  (Spoken – Jamaican stylie)

  Hey sport, wheh you ah goh?

  Oh I gotta train sport,

  timing to perfection an’ all dat …

  Oh yeh

  Yeh, relay like that –

  come mek we run nuh …

  Champions running free (relay, relay)

  Champions all are we

  Champion run for me (game on, play on)

  Champions all are we

  DancSing, dance and shout!

  Ohh yeh hit the track let’s bolt (repeat)

  Celebrate your life

  Give thanks and praise

  Celebrate your life

  Give thanks and praise (repeat)

  Record breaking, crowds awaiting

  Game on, come on

  Competition – who’s the best one?

  I’m on track, sprint, bolt go dash

  Did you see that?!

  Looked like lightning, something – Wow …

  Give thanks, jump and shout (chant)

  DancSing, shout out loud

  Give thanks, jump and shout

  DancSing, shout out aloud

  (Ending)

  (Spoken)

  You outa condition man,

  lap you two time already

  I just need to train more

  Can’t discipline your body pon de streets like dat

  You need to get trackin’

  DOWNPOUR

  Pouring down in bucket sheets

  Inhale the smell of woolly wet sheep

  As droplets trail on blades of grass

  Or onto polished petals clasped

  Blasting on my window pane

  It is a howling shower of rain

  DOUSING RAIN

  The child in me was bathed you see

  In swell of dousing rain

  And I forgot what tempest tossed

  From anger or from shame

  For I did lie awake all night

  As waves of water poured

  And restless winds blew such a din

  As ever could be heard