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Wataka Damah Poem
He looks outside the window of the moving train,
Watching the dripping pattern,
Made by the drops of rain,
His mind far away from the present happenings.
His eyebrows twitch,
As he wonders how he is going to drop the news,
To his expectant wife,
And four little kids.
Retrenchment till further notice...
She sits at that bench in the middle of the park,
Staring into space,
The wind blows strands of misplaced hair into her face,
She tries weighing alternatives,
Their pros and cons,
Let the cat out of the bag,
And possibly end two lives,
Or simply get rid of the developing one,
And save her own...
Unexpected pregnancy...
C.E.O,
Carefully and tactfully engraved,
On that wood stamp,
He swings on his chair,
Enjoying the dizziness that comes with it,
Because for a minute or two,
It takes his mind from all his worries and care,
But fantasy doesn't last long,
And he is back to reality.
His status and wealth,
Couldn't do much for him,
He wishes he could turn back time...
HIV positive
We are lost in our own jungle of worries,
Either that or this,
Where to get money, love, food, shelter,
What to tell him or her,
How to change our weight,
Height,
Complexion,
Complaining why things don't go our way,
Forgetting someone somewhere,
Wishes to be in our shoes,
Because their own situation,
Is way worse...
And from up above He looks,
The only thing in His mind...us,
Wondering why we couldn't simply trust,
Obey...
At his feet our burdens lay,
Forget what others will say,
Ask for His help...control,
And in His presence choose to stay,
He could do anything for us,
We just have to ask...
There is no other way...
Love.
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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Wataka Damah Poem
Back to this dark, cold,
vacuumed
space,
With no air, life,
No sort of soothe to the
senses
You have given me.
My eyes,
Beg to see light,
But only darkness is in
view.
My ears yearn to hear
some sort
of,
Soothing word,
statement, song,
Anything that will tell
them,
That it would all be gone.
My nose, blocked,
By the stench of despair,
And would give anything,
Absolutely anything,
To have a breath of fresh
hopeful
air.
My tongue, tasting the
sourness
of pain,
Destruction stinging its
buds,
With hot chilly tastes,
Desperate for just a lick,
A single drop,
Of sweet happiness.
My hands, Oh my hands,
Ever clinging to the past,
The hurt, the tears,
Vague cruelty that life
offered,
To them as a gift,
Back when I was young,
naive
and ignorant.
My hands they embrace
the
wrong sinful desires,
Holding tight to them,
As you see these are the
only
friends, acquitances,
They ever knew and had.
They yearn to be free,
Or atleast have a better
feel,
Of the cotton softness of
joy,
peace, love.
My whole being,
Mind body soul,
Entangled in vines of sin,
Sin that no matter how
thorny,
Offered a place to lay my
head,
A kind of peace knowing
that no
judgement will be faced,
Promises that my soul
would
gladly bear consequences
for.
But questions, doubts,
uncertainities still remain.
Peaceful life, painful
death after,
unrest for the soul
forever,
Or hard life, no matter
how long,
then death after filled
with dance
and song,
Total bliss for the soul????
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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Wataka Damah Poem
You said you loved me
I let down my robe
I gave you a sight of what I had
never let
any other man behold,
Then you said you needed me,And
just
like Isaac lay still on the altar
Without a fight or argument with
his
father
Because of the unquestionable trust
that
he had,
I too lay down on your bed
Convinced my racing thoughts and
tensed
up nerves to rest
Then I gave you full control of
everything
that I had
And I was willing to always go by this
trend
If and only when...
You promised one thing
That you would always love me,
That you would always need me,
I begged you to promise
You quickly said yes...
Magical doesn't fully describe it
Lets call it beautiful
You took me up the clouds over the
hills
Unable to take normal calculated
breaths
But still finding utmost pleasure in
the
struggle to stay alive
I was yours and you were mine
We were each other's for the rest
of our
lives...
The lunch after I could rarely touch
my
food
I kept mixing and turning the rice
inside
the soup
My mind going back to that moment
Replaying every second without
missing a
single detail
Pausing and rewinding for better
sound
effects
I was what they called stupified
Dazzled by your love...
Mary tapped me
Saving me from being consumed by
this my
midday dream
'Guess what I forgot to tell you
John texted me this morning
Saying that he had missed me
And that he wanted us to meet
And the shocking bit is
He said that he loved and needed
me
I really don't......'
I didn't hear the rest of what she
said
My brain had frozen at that
sentence
The exact same words that you
had
used to lure me into your bed
I felt my gut crump and congest
For a moment, I couldn't even feel
my
legs...
I wanted to ask you how you could
betray
me
How you could play and toy with my
feelings
How you would callously go against
your
sworn promise,
And then rude reality hit me
Our terms of agreement
Did not restrict your heart's
movement
'Always love me
Always need me'
Yes...
But you were free to add everybody
else.
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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Wataka Damah Poem
Every time go home
No matter the time of day
My favourite dog comes
running to me
Just as i reach the gate.
No matter how many times I
go home
He will always run to me
without fail
Wagging its tail with
excitement
Rubbing its body on my leg
Makingvme feel welcome like
a king to his palace.
It never gets bored
Never stops
Never fails
So at times get the urge ro
reward him
Thus I carry a little something
for him.
But even when I dont
He will stil be there.
At times it becomes routine to
me
And i approach the gate sure
of what is coming
But somehow each time
A new feeling is born
A unique kind of warmth
And I just want to stay there
with it
For it gives me ao much joy.
And it got me thinking
I also want to be like a loyal
dog to my master
Ever yearning to run to His
feet.
Come rain come shine
In lack or overflow
In reward or none
I want to be like that faithful
dog
Never bored with my God
Never tired to be by His side
Always wanting to welcome
Him with arms open wide.
I want to be like that loyal dog
for as long as I am alive.
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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Wataka Damah Poem
These are the thoughts and
feelings of a
plus sized chick,
One who is defined as plump and
thick,
With chunks of fat and extra skin,
Rounded edges and puffed up
cheeks.
This is her being raw and real
Saying it exactly how it is.
It has never been, not for a single
day,
easy to be me,
The stares and glances,
The giggles and pointed fingers,
The questions and comments,
The opinions and suggestions,
About going to the gym and reducing
on the
food,
Even when you have the smallest
plate in
the room.
Your explanations as to why you
are how
you are,
Taken as silly excuses of laziness to
change into what they prefer.
It is hard, having to take
comparison
from parents,
About you being the youngest yet
ugliest,
Always pointing out how you should
have
taken tips from the beautiful rest.
Nothing is as embarassing
As having to skip shopping sessions,
Because you are perfectly sure,
that you
will not get anything your size,
And even if you do...
Whatever it is, ends up looking like
a
masquerade's disguise.
Having to either become anti-social,
To avoid confrontations,
And cruel rhetorical questions,
Or turn into a tomboy,
And act like you don't care,
All hardcore though inside,
somewhat
coy.
Staying away from dresses and
skirts,
Make-up and such,
Because though they may do it for
the
chin up,
But from the neck down
You still end up looking like a clown.
This is the daily life of a chubby
chick,
Having to live with the fact that
she will
probably never date a hot
handsome guy,
Probably never get married,
And if she does... It would probably
be to a
guy who is as desperate as she is.
So instead she plans her life:
Read hard, get a good job,
Earn thoroughly, relocate: rather
disappear,
and get twelve different breeds of
exotic
dogs
Then live happily ever after.
This is about her who has to have a
strong hard heart,
That is able to stand past words,
Words that cut and hurt,
Words that crush her into small tiny
parts,
But like a beggar on the street, who
has
coins thrown and scattered at
where he
sits,
Patiently collects one after the
other,
Because only he understands how
precious
each one is,
So does she,
Slowly and carefully picks the
shuttered
scattered pieces of her,
One by one,
Sniffing back a tear,
As she has done so many times
before,
Because she has to be strong And
strength is not seen in crying.
This is about that girl that does not
know,
The difference between a
compliment and
being mocked,
Because from her past experiences,
The two seemed intertwinned with a
very
thin line between them,
So often she would confuse one for
the
other.
She has not been conversant with
genuine
kindness,
And so every word said to her is
always
frisked for hidden meaning.
These are the insecurities of a plus
sized
girl,
The empty wishes of her heart,
That maybe one day society may
stop
being harsh about her lack of
holdable
waist, and definite curves,
That maybe one dayshe will sit on a
pin,
And her body will turn out to be a
pumped
up airsuit and burst,
That maybe one day, just maybe,
one
day,
Even in the life to come,
She will be able to look feel and
think
beautiful
Because upto now all that falls in
her list
of wishes.
She however has
To put on a smile
Hold her head up high
Do all she can to accept herself
Despite how hard it practically is
And love herself to bits
Because she is her own gem
Her own priced diamond
And only she could love herself as
she
trully deserves.
These are just the feelings and
thoughts
of a plus sized chick,
One who is defined as plump and
thick,
With chunks of fat and extra skin,
Rounded edges and puffed up
cheeks,
This is her being raw and real
Telling it exaclty how it is.
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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Wataka Damah Poem
Forgive
me
Father
for
I
havesinned,
I
know
not
what
I
do,
Or
maybe
I
do,
But
I
go
ahead
and
do
it
anyway,
At
the
expense
of
going
against
your
will,
Regardless
of
what
You
feel,
I'm
sorry.
Forgive
me
Father,
For
I
have
sinned.
Too
anxious
to
get
where
I
want
to
be,
I
forget
what
You
said,
Forfeit
your
promises,
And
do
things
my
way.
I'm
sorry.
Forgive
me
Father,
For
I
have
sinned.
Tried
to
replace
you
with
what
I
can
see,
Fitting
you
into
a
figure
that
is
suitable
for
me,
Forgetting
that
you
are
the
creator
of
everything,
Can
never
be
contained,
Even
if
tried
for
eternity.
I'm
sorry.
Forgive
me
Father,
For
I
have
sinned.
I
have
become
to
anxious
to
wait
on
Your
word,
Limited
Your
capabilities,
Decided
to
help
You,
'God
helps
those
who
help
themselves'
as
my
theme.
I
went
insearch
for
the
one,
Instead
of
waiting
for
You
to
bring
him,
And
in
the
way
I
fell
in
the
wrong
hands,
Now
only
You
can
accept
me,
I'm
Sorry.
Forgive
me
Father,
For
I
do
sin,
Wanting
so
much
to
make
it,
And
time
and
time
again
I
disobey
you,
Sacrifice
my
soul
to
get
what
I
want,
I
seem
to
be
from
the
lineage
of
Saul.
I
keep
forgetting
that
obedience,
Is
far
much
better
than
sacrifice,
That
the
heart
is
what
matters
to
your
eyes.
Not
titles,
nor
status.
So
I
humbly
come
bck
to
thee,
Asking
you
to
please,
See
past
my
iniquities,
And
take
me
in,
Hide
me
under
your
wings,
The
only
place
that
I
am
free.
Forgive
me
Father,
For
I
have
sinned.
I'm
Sorry.
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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Wataka Damah Poem
I was the apple of his eye,
Each time he looked at me,
His eyes would gleam and glitter,
I was not sure what went through his mind,
Each time he smiled when looking at me,
But I didnt mind,
I knew my tender to be kind.
I was the apple of his eye,
And he wanted me to be ripe,
He took care of me with queer jealousy,
At the moment it seemed an act so nice,
I would grow and he would show me off to the rest,
Saying that in all the apples on his tree,
I was his best, the apple of his eye.
I was the apple of his eye,
And as soon as I was ripe,
He wanted a bite,
He wanted to know how I taste,
He wanted to consume me,
He wanted to eat me all up.
I was the apple of his eye,
And suddenly the pride and satisfaction that filled his face when he looked at me,
Were replaced with a disturbing gleam of greed.
His bloodshot eyes,
His popped up veins,
His evil grin as he stretched his hand,
Reached up the tree,
Twisted, plucked and bit me...
Aah:(
Ate up half and threw the rest of me to the ground,
For me to rot,
He now knew how I tasted,
And that's all he wanted...from the apple of his eye.
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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Wataka Damah Poem
She walks on to the man on the street,
'Sir can you help me?
Its cold and I've nowhere to sleep,
Is there some place you can show me?'
This time he doesn't walk on,
He doesn't pretend not to hear her,
He doesn't whistle and cross the street.
No this time round he looks down at her,
Spite written all over his face,
'The next time you come near me you rascal,
I will make wipe from the surface of the earth,'
He spits on her face to show the strength of his remark,
Feeling proud and fulfilled.
These events play over and over again in her head,
Tears run down her face as if in a race,
She didn't know why life had to be this hard,
This cruel.
She didn't choose to be born under that highway bridge,
Neither did she have a title, status or prestige.
But that didn't make her less human,
And she swore to different.
Head Surgeon, was what read on the door,
Wall to wall carpet,
Furniture expensively imported.
She smiled as she sipped her perfectly brewed cup of coffee.
'Doc you are needed urgently in the theater,
Bullet wounded man profusely bleeding,
You may the only one who might be able to save him!!!'
She responds to the call as she would any other,
Runs to the theater and gets ready,
She sees her patient and freezes,
Those around think its the usual anxiety,
And her assuring smile says the same.
Ten hours later he opens his eyes,
Stretches his hand to the doctor and says his thank-yous,
'I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you',
She nods,
Remembered the day he spat on her,
Remember fixes the spite his face had that day,
And the same streams of tears flow down her face,
Just as they had twenty years ago,
She holds his hand and says,
'No thank you,
I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you.'
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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Wataka Damah Poem
It was the darkest night I had been
through since I became one with the
streets
And no matter what corner I
squeezed into
every nerve in me got chilled
Maybe this was what they meant by
the
apocalypse
Or maybe God had decided to cut
short
my life string...
No other explanation made sense
at this
point
So I curled up into a human ball
waiting to
see how it ends.
I was eight years old
She was the only one who looked at
me
twice
And with kindness engraved on every
freckle of her face
She took her shawl and wrapped it
around me
Took my hand and asked me to
follow
her.
She was the purest soul I had known
Gave me food clothes and a place
to call
home
But above all she gave me love
And that cannot be compared to
anything
else.
On my sixteenth birthday she called
me
into her room
Said I was like a daughter to her
and
she wouldn't want anything bad to
happen
to me
And then she hugged me
And a tear flowed down her cheek
'Its time you became part of the
true life
that I live.'
I was afraid to the last bone in me
But then it would kill me to
disappoint she
that had made me into what I was
She promised that it wouldn't hurt
And if any one tried to cause me
harm
I should scream her name and she
would
come right up.
First time it was painful, I actually
bled,
That night I couldn't sleep as the
memories fled
Back and forth across my head
The eyes of the ugly old man
The smell that came from his
sweat
The weight that he placed on me
The sounds that he made...
Aargh it made my gut upset.
'Now you are a woman my love'
She said as she wiped my sore body
with
the hot water
' Now you are like me. Strong and
independent
Able to make your own money'
Handing me my first salary.
'If I was a minister
I would take you to the best schools
And build a big house and you would
have
your own room
If I was a business lady
I would wait till you were eighteen
Then immediately write down my will
Where you would get everything
But my love
This is who I am
This is all I have
And I do not mean you any harm
But we sure do need to survive
I will be with you all the way
I will show you all you need to know
And hopefully there will come a day
that
you will be able to get away from all
of
this
I love you dear
I just wish I could have given you
more.'
She was my mother and father
She was my closest friend
It was beacause of her that I could
even
wear a new dress
She had sacrificed everything so
that I
lived
So I was not going to live her now
that she
needed me...
I am proud to be me
I do not have any apologies
It was either this or being six feet
deep
Atleast this way I am open to
opportunities
So next time before you point your
finger at
me
Say bad things about me
Show your kids who a street girl is
And the best meaning of bad
company
Why don't you first ask yourself
why you
weren't the one whp picked me from
the
streets.
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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Wataka Damah Poem
He sits at a park bench,
Having his lunch as usual,
And as he tries to take a
bite of
his delicious sandwich,
He bites his finger...
She walks gracefuly past
him,
Swinging her hips with
much
pride and gist,
Her cologne seems to be
pulling
him behind her,
And he takes two steps
ready to
devour her seductive
seductions,
But then he trips back to
his
senses,
And remembers he is not
to give
in to the flesh,
Thus walks the opposite
direction,
Reminiscing how being a
christian, is darn hard but
worth
the while.
She basks peacefuly at
the side of
the swimming pool,
Enjoying her off-day free
of work,
Sipping her lemonade
then
suddenly there is shade.
She opens her eyes,
Sees the buffed up figure,
Cubes as precise as the
hardness
of diamond,
Her eyes salivate,
Her mouth perspirate,
He lifts her up with his
disturbingly beautiful
arms,
And he heads to the
changing
room.
It all seemed a dream,
She was literally swept off
her
feet...
But along the way, she
stopped
him.
She got down from his
arms and
ran,
Scared of what she might
have
done,
Realising that being a
christian, is
darn hard but worth the
while.
2years out of
rehabilitation,
A year into his new found
salvation,
He had not had a drink
that long,
And he was not planning
to any
time soon.
But as fate would have it,
Destiny's plans were quite
different.
Promoted to Vice Chair,
The boys decie to take
him to a
night out,
Afterall his wife was
away on
vacation,
So what would be his
reason of
not having a little fun?
Rounds and rounds of
beer come,
But he sticks to his coke,
Till he is called chicken
and he
wants to prove that he is
eagle.
One bottle down,
Together with 3years of
dedication,
2nd one halfway,
then he hears a still voice
urging
him to stop.
He does...stands up and
walks
away,
Repenting the misdeed,
And admits that being a
christian
is darn hard but worth
the while.
Copyright © Wataka Damah | Year Posted 2013
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