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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
The largest part of this abandoned warehouse
for creative dilemma is still in the ash medium
from you reach.
Though you’ve part of this morning haze that won’t go unrecognized.
Now that we’ve finally managed to right away ahead of our views across the bridge, it seems that elsewhere you’ve made every effort to prove yourself with your wrongly right-minded people, an iota of one-dimensional news data will be at all our throats.
We taste our sweat.
I must leave you now.
Suddenly, I feel better.
That’s why you’re still a business man & that’s been at least 20 years.
You remember how they were treated with such suspicion of the rage surged up inside
& we can’t surmise what happened.
You know something about this result that surpassed my expectations.
This is a surplus land, a flash & one of those immaculate English smiles on the beetle-browed face.
That cultural shock we’ve had, we’ve covered from the rest of us
we’re determined never to surrender, we’ve plenty of those surges as well. This is just behind the beefy man. This is not a Russian-American exchange project.
It’s far too far from your surly waitress who’s bathing today at your place. I see it under surveillance
but the sewers burst again for the second time this season.
But you’re still the man who’s as slim as a teenager in old clothes
I can’t be very well leaving all the terms out. This is all there
with a lot of lines on the forehead. I maintain your coiffure for good. Remember you’re still a conscientious objector in a uniform, a colony of citadel, breathing, you get comeuppance at the end of the play. This isn’t too happy, if I may add. Kind of tired, you know?
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
all directions from the same place
don’t lead to the same place
that’s why you’re a butterfly
and I, a moth, but one family
the abandoned lawn
but I care about you
you need to know your battles
and how to choose your directions
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
I’ve sold winter coldness to those who’re huge in their chests oncorners of these abandoned streets, where bars aren’t happy with myfootprints in front of every door. Where I hit myself at close range. Where I pay a price to win no game. However, she’s worked all her lifeto bring up all her children within this magical world of theatre & music.She’s convinced that these children won’t fail to understand & accept opera& early rehearsals. I'm bedridden waiting. Welcome to a pigheaded house. Welcometo your fate that befalls many emigrants you plant like beets beside the beetleto see new growth. Welcome to where you don’t fancy a beer before bier afterthe funeral. Something is bedraggled from the hedgerow & that’s your ex’sspecial brand. However, the twigs are dry & brittle, & cracked beneaththeir feet from the beginning. Her children are looking for more spaciouspremises after that premeditated murder in a blighted area where I prescribe hera daily diet chart.
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
What does it mean to be the next flower to fall after the garden fence is reinforced with tears from the street?
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
The clinic feels like Alcatraz.
There’s no escape in this love.
I feel a growing sense of alarm
when you don’t return that night.
The doctor decides to sound calm
& I’m coerced into negotiating a settlement.
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
in the foundry
the guys call me Yellow
meaning I’m coming from Asia
or my favorite color
I don’t know
they’re fun of
laughing at
every
I know
I won’t
spend
my whole
world here
I’m waiting
for a ship to
Bangkok
but the man
you’ve married
to is coming with
clay sample
I wash every stone
you step on with legs
borrowed from twxt us
we compose estuary in the
Philippines to keep us awake
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
Am I a foul fellow when the house is longer than this morning? Am I the designer of the living room that doesn’t encourage formality, because we’re associated with rigid boundaries? I’m the next citizen of an affluent hovel. I’ll be the next coastal lowland along any gulf & hearing your voice, pattering on every rooftop, I cover all the island-dotted lakes with your shadow. Somewhere within, a breath produces vapour, making the sauna feel even hotter. Now if my shop doesn’t pay you, it means my family goes hungry. No public property is written off here. You’re the capital of these floating islands, a nice account in the only bank here, you can take my people for a holiday to May Isle. I get a bit of capital, nothing is your own, is it? It’s for her, my daughter in a white mask.
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
there’s no true lovers
but just lovers who never change
so at this party morning
we create a situation
and you join us for the wedding
I just want to hold closer
I just want to whisper
a song to you
I’m finding
a strange way
to love people
all directions from the same place
don’t lead to the same place
that’s why you’re a butterfly
and I, a moth, but one family
the abandoned lawn
but I care about you
you need to know your battles
and how to choose your directions
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
I see positive in my circumstances
under no roof or no security
shelves packed with uncertainties and cranses
to uplift my soul from any puredee
I begin a long list from Able Street
and better to be successful failure
to monitor tasks, adding slices of beet
than living inside that golden chamber
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poem
it’s still brick
everywhere in the City
especially Downtown
I wrap the next mula
for my pocket
and catch NYC whip
I stop in the Burg
inside your bodega
I listen to myself for
the first time from the box
this bop electrifies my brolic
while I sip hot Regular Coffee
still waiting for your yerrr
what’s happening at FiDi
fuhgeddaboutdit
I schlep no fronting
cuz my B is always
your word again
that’s deadass
the shunts
dissenting
minorities
and deep
conflicts out
of camera range
I twxt the worlds
from Alphabet City
Copyright © Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah | Year Posted 2025
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