Wednesday, 21 November 2012


I sit here, 
Back bent with self-pity
And I watch 
As the days start
And end
And start
And end
Fearing it might end
And never start again

Countdown to midnight
And the clock will strike

I stand here
Still naked as I came
With nothing to show
That I lived
So I watch the sunrise
And set
And rise
And set
Dreading the day it sets
And rises no more.

Three counts to midnight
And the clock will strike

I crouch here
Knees weak
From trudging through mud
Through dark valleys
I listen to the cockcrow
And roost
And crow
And roost
My breath held, wondering
Will it ever crow again?

Now it's midnight
The clock strikes 
A monotonous chime
That rings and rings
And rings in my ears

So I pick myself up and set off

For nowhere...

Thursday, 15 November 2012

Through Your Eyes

You interrupt my heavy thoughts
You invade my gory dreams
I am stone cold
You are hot
You speak with your eyes while I scream

You came to me
Canvas in hand
Different shades of colours
A handful of brushes

Each stroke held meaning
Each blot spoke volumes

You say my laughter cries
That in pain, my pleasure lies

You say I am deep
You say I am shallow
That I'm filled up with fears
That I'm empty, I'm hollow

The colours fill the sheet
As you weave an intricate pattern
That mirrors me

You say I hide
In plain sight
You whisper to me
What I fail to see

I turn back towards
Where you say is home
Walk up the stairs you crafted
And there it hangs 
The very element I had forgotten
A medley of memories
Reminding me of who I am

My portrait
Through your eyes.

Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Sunset Song

See the thin strands
Of sanity
As I stand
Arms locked
Over my tired breasts
An imaginary trophy
In my head

The madness heightens...

See the moth ball
Rolling down
The mountain
Picking up debris
That fell
And continue
To fall
From my life

The evidence grows...

See the rainbow
Turn its back on me
As I tirelessly struggle
Chain myself to a tree
Too stubborn
For freedom

In the skies,
Watch the colours bleed

See the straight road
Take a quiet turn
As my hardened hands
A path 
In the belly
Of a serpent
With venom

In the horizon,
The silent street sighs

My spent limbs
Lose all hope

My vacant eyes
See no home

My shrunken heart
Has the chills

My soul
Cries out
That age-old plea


Friday, 9 November 2012


Once upon a time,
The rhythm 
Of our delicately merged hearts
When for the first time 
Our eyes met
Was the music 
We knew
The only tune 
We could dance to.

Once upon a time,
We were both 

But now 
These hands
Once innocent 
And fragile,
Are trembling.

This tired head 
Too much evil
Too heavy 
For my heart 
To bear
So it fell out 
As I journeyed here, 

My tears 
Have frozen 
Down my cheeks.
For the melody 
In your heart 
Has turned 

To you, 
I have become 
A lowly servant
And my mind 
With deep loathing, 

Have made pain 
A constant 
In this damned body 

The desire 
To spill blood
Your blood
Is like large 
Crawling up 
My every opening
Feasting greedily 
On my insides

What is happening?

Must I stay 
Like this 
With the very image 
Of my fears?

Must I, 
Remain flat-faced 
On the floor
Before the beast 
You have now become?


A year of happiness 
Was all I had.
Then you took 
As a mistress
That tall, 
Elegantly shaped

You made me
Your whore
Your laundry basket
Your refuse bin.
You practiced 
Amateur boxing
On my belly
Swollen with a son
Our son

Three in a row
You boxed out 
The last 
Cost me 
My womb

You sucked 
The human 
Out of me
And now
We are both beasts.

So let us waltz 
Towards your grave 
My beast.
All through our steps 
Those early nights 
You spent 
With me

You once laughed 
With me
But now 
We have drank poison 
Bitter-sweet poison 
So let us go
Let’s go dance 
On your shiny 

Thursday, 8 November 2012

In and Out of my Dreams

I did not kill Uncle Fiifi because I hated him. Who could hate such a man? He had the body that I had thought only existed in myths, a smile that brought daylight into my almost always cluttered and fuzzy brain and a voice that sent me off on yet another daydream in which we were again, all alone on the mounds of divinely crafted earth somewhere in Aburi, overlooking the city in sleep, saying nothing to each other yet feeling everything. He was all I knew in and out of my dreams.
I never hated my father’s youngest brother. I loved him beyond what was expected from a 16-year old. I wanted to marry him the very next day if possible. I loved Uncle Fiifi, and that’s why I killed him.
He led me on. For almost five years I had been the only one for him. In High School, he had been the one who’d visit me every other weekend, take me out on a ride in town, and treat me special. I looked forward to what always came at the end of our day out - he’d take me home. I loved his flatscreen TV, and I loved to sit on his huge comfy sofa and watch high-school movies. I loved his pure white and silver kitchen with the island made from glass. I loved to push ice out of the icemaker and sip a little alcoholic wine on rocks with him. But most of all, I loved his queen-sized bed and all the pillows that were carefully arranged upon it. I loved to get lost in them as his hands made me feel grown-up and loved. He was the man in and out of my dreams.
My 18th birthday was the best I’d ever had. He had taken me straight home that morning. First, he made me breakfast, my favorite - tombrown and egg sandwich. Then he got me to dance to all my favorite songs. He had taken note of all my favorites and that made me love him more. We danced till I was in stitches from too much movement and laughter. He taught me the two steps forward and two steps backwards high-life dance.
“I love you”
His eyes said it all as we swayed from side to side, to Kojo Antwi’s love songs.I never had to tell him I loved him too. He had always known I loved him more.
Uncle Fiifi had magic in his hands, is how I can describe it. The moment he touched me, and whispered in my ears, in that deep bedroom voice, magic happened along with fireworks. That day, when I turned 18, he taught me more than I had known before. More magic than I knew he had in store. And it more than quadrupled my love for that queen-sized bed. That day, magic swallowed up the very last of my innocence.
“Happy Birthday, my dearest” he had said to me, after it was over. As I got my clothes back on, I took in the blood that had drawn an interesting shape on the sheets and smiled. There was officially no room left for any other human, in and out of my dreams.
Then it started to fade. The fireworks became less colourful, the magic too forced. He was mostly absent-minded around me and I felt like a distraction or more of a disturbance to him. I noticed the warning signs before but I never paid much attention to them till he quenched it all, all my dreams. The signs had been there. It was a little folded up prayer brochure at first, then a Christian magazine, then an actual Bible. I had never asked him why I was seeing those foreign materials. I had never wanted to link it up to his sudden stiffness towards me. But he had allowed them into our world, those nosey Bible-clutching theives. They had slowly wrapped their invasive hands around his heart and without warning, snatched it out from my reach. He had gradually lost that look in his eyes, that smile that was only meant for me. His sinful voice spoke another language that splashed cold water all over my ever-heated being.
He had started to preach to me.
“What has been happening between us is wrong. I have wronged you, Baaba. I should have known better. Forgive me and understand that there is a better life outside sin. This change is good. Change with me, won’t you?”
For the first time ever, I saw him cry. He went down on all fours, sobbing like someone had died. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t Uncle Fiifi.
He had started talking about repentance, remorse, forgiveness, salvation. That wasn’t part of our deal. He was supposed to take me all the way to heaven, but not on those wings. That wasn’t part of the deal. There was no room left, remember? No room left for anything else in and out of my dreams.
What drove me? I’d say some amount of desperation. I loved him, I still do but he had been blinded. And a little dose of jealousy to top. They couldn’t have him without a fight. I couldn’t draw it out of him anymore, the magic I survived on, so I had begun to starve. The hunger played a major role. If I couldn’t have him anymore, then no one else could. That sounds selfish, I know but he was supposed to be my property and mine alone. His heart was mine and so I had to find a hiding place for my treasure before they hid it from me. It had to be done because I loved him more than he ever knew.
The day I took it, he had thought I was finally ready for the change he couldn’t stop talking about. I’m sure it’s because I got there dressed like one of those church girls. It was quick and easy, drugging him to deep sleep.
As he lay there on the couch in which magical things had happened, I cried. I watched as my tears formed a tiny pool on his bare chest, right on the spot where minutes later, the dagger I had taken with me drove through. It was quick. He shuddered violently for a moment then went limp.  I was shaking badly. I couldn’t control myself. My heart was merged with his and so as I cut him open, and with trembling hands clawed out his heart, my heart felt it all, the pain, then the joy. I had his heart in my hands. For love he drew my blood and for love I drew his. No one could take it from me anymore. The bloody gem was mine for safe-keeping.
Tomorrow is the day I die. I have been on death row for almost seven year now. I’ve become very famous worldwide and that adds nothing to my life, really. No one understands me. I did it for love and no one cares.
After my parents had found the decaying heart in an iron chest under my bed, everything else was like a scene in slow motion. The court proceedings, the media, the verdict are all shadowed memories. I can’t give all that any room. There is none, but for Uncle Fiifi, in and out of my dreams.
Tomorrow, I’d beg to be shot straight through my heart, for it will add no pain to what I already feel in there - the pain from loving too much and from expecting too much, the pain from giving my all to my dearest Uncle.
Tomorrow I die for love…In and out of my dreams. 

Monday, 5 November 2012

I am Home

When your days
Slip down that filthy drain
Do not go with them
Do not forget
To look back
And decode
The faces
Of those who stand
As a mirror
To your smiles
And tears.

When your heartbeat
Slows down
When your limbs
Turn jelly
When you brain
To its last tether
And you see red
All around you
Do not shut your eyes
And wait to cross over
Do not forget
To turn back
And look
Do not refuse
To step out
In search
Of home

In your world of dreams
You are marooned
At the center
Of a shadow
You heed not the call 
Of a silent crier
Who's tears leak
Through your roof
At midnight

When your days
Are full of night
When your nights
Are further eclipsed
When your prayers
Echo back
Into your ears
And the smell
Of carrion
Your nostrils
Do not burn out
Your senses
And wait
To cross over
Do not forget
To turn back
And look

And my love,
Do not fail to see,
I am home.