|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
AFRICAN SQUARE
An Afro-Ant lost across the Mediterranean
In his home a royal, but on a white land an alien
I asked about his mission to the pig farm
Shhhh! He said, be calm
For I am on the search for the Gulf of Guinea
To get not only Gold but Ivory
I asked if he had a map in his hairy armpit
Lest his journey he better quit
For Africa is at his South
With traces of unmarked path.
I left my Stranger to get him water
So that he jumps to Africa faster
But when I returned with palm wine in a pot
He had run away with his fellows in my court
So if you see Ants so dear,
Help them locate the African square.
(This poem was written for all Africans in Diaspora seeking to locate their true identity in Africa)
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
I better take my trombone lessons serious
Not for fun or fame, neither for leisure
A prophesy I wish to help see light from the Bible
“At the judgment day Angels will blow their trumpet
But forgot trombones will also match
The quality of the sound that will blow
I will surely render my service for free
(After all God loves a cheerful giver)
And hope to receive the blessing of salvation
To find my way to the segmentation of the sheep
How lucky I will be. That faithful day,
If the Angels blow their trumpet, I will take out my trombone
And proudly blow my trombone.
If Angel Michael blows his old trumpet,
I will blow my new trombone.
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
Oh Mandy,
I am sorry for those days I made you cry
I am sorry I could not see love in your eyes
your touch, heart and the beautiful dreams you had
are they still in your heart under the earth?
But now I have seen and felt your laughter
and the sound of your cough on my sofa
and the number of times I missed your call
today I stand alone to the weather
Oh Mandy....
How I wish I could sing with you with this voice
and appreciate every moment lost
you and me together and forever
where we will live, laugh and love
Oh Mandy
Dead men have no dreams but memories
old, sad and beautiful days spent and told
A plague in your name and flowers I lay today
Rest in love now and always. I love you now Mandy
Oh Mandy.
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
I believed I was the worst man ever
Fallen in love mum said things will change
An enemy in my heart I call a lover
Marriage is really strange
I wonder why you sit among the Lords of men
When a page of you has no color of pink
Agony moments multiplies by ten
I vow never to follow a man’s link
Don’t tell me you have a womb
A bottled-neck with a tight lid
A place for you should be a tomb
A mother with no crying kid
Your works deter satisfaction
Output from you very minimal
Fatherhood is not a bold fashion
You better learn from your cinema
Let my wine journey back to my family
A dozen- of -thank you will I send back
A load I have carried in marriage shortly
I need them all like in a truck
Let my virginity journey first
Hell serves me witness
Marriage has really made me a twist
My heart now has listeners
Life so better without that jail
You better leave without a good bye
Should have thought before using this thick tail
Now I will move with my bachelors tie
Better engage in investment
Than in a matrimony
After all the so-called enjoyment
The problems with men are the many
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2016
|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
When our cries travel not again through the sky
And the sun shines directly on our barren heads
Communal labour to clear filth render to apologies
The wise who hear and cautions spoke of no truth
And the land could only get itself stuck in innocent souls,
Blood lakes in our brains.
Sons comfort their mothers in bed
A mouth opener that order needs not to be sent
We the liberators and cohorts will salute before your holy grounds.
We salute before your holy grounds
With are heads the same feet as our foot like locusts
Our ugly nakedness betray our fathers
Our mothers spread no ethics of womanhood
The eggs in us have all rotten
Not a penny to pay for a single weep
Destined cowries reveal no myths.
No fear in the presence of our shrines
The cemeteries more quiet than it used to
Or has there been any a mix of filth?
We salute before your holy grounds
The living spirits that sustain not the oracles
And made our feet very close to the slow- head-nod
We bathed not the waters of the ancestral blood
And raised lifted lips to the short spirits
We the mothers have made the herbs our enemies
And have sent mother earth far away to the sea
With various discharge of urine and the thick
No incantations in these acts
We salute before your holy grounds
Not even those under lactose have seen
The size of breast and bread, But the few that listen
Is a pin fallen in the center of Kejetia.
How long should we continue to wipe our shame?
With our voices mewed pitifully.
And our spirits share a common destiny with a rift valley.
Come out through another disappointed fellow
And drink our tears that flow from the Volta.
The mighty flow and the image of our souls
Baptize and wipe our souls with this virgin libation
We pray you.
We salute before your holy grounds
The static wine we have hoped to dine
Accept our palm wine from our hearts brewed
In mercy and in blood
We salute before your holy grounds
The vultures that birth destined our barren heads
And made the rotten and forbidden our best meal
We who acknowledged nothing about dignity
Are here before you, among you unseen
The lands may devour its inhabitants
But never under the sun has there been a scenario
of an ex-mother.
But moments of once upon the time lick our ears
Great sanctuary of the mighty sanctuaries
Our prayers in bottles we pour
Drink till the drinks become drunk
And waterfalls sound in our circular smiles.
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
All I hope for
And all that can make and unmake me
is right within your heart Mama.
Happy mothers day
My Mum, my hope.
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
MY LADY MY DAY
My lady my day
My sun mould from my ribs’ clay
Accelerate, but not so fast
Lest prophecy turns against forecast
The sun with the sky turns blue
I vow to see you brighter than the moon.
My lady dressed in erected forehead
Another pen writes your care ahead
A miss, a care, a gist and a kiss
Your cup, my heart and into a bowl we mix
From a pleasure to the slightest catarrh
We have really traveled far.
My lady with a dancing shoe
That’s the best you can ever do
Making me fall in your heart beneath
Prayed not but hey we connect
That sweet aroma you call smell
Is a new poem I wish to tell.
My lady my day
My lady is my day.
(wrote this poem for all out there who are missing their girlfriends like I was missing mine)
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
This was written by a captain when he saw his fellow soldier lynched and burnt to death by his native civilians.
Cpt Kommoldomo Edmound writes :
When you go home tell my mama
that the very people I was sent to give life to
took my own.
Tell mama that though I promised to return
I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise.
Mama tell it to the hill towns, tell it to the trees, tell it to the generations yet unborn
that my life was snuffed out at the glare of the cameras.
Tell mama my plea of innocence was not taken.
Tell mama my lifeless body was set ablaze by another mama.
Tell mama not to cry for me but for the country that raised me.
Tell mama I had huge dreams unfulfilled.
Tell mama I was keeping fit to protect the very people who stood by and watched me lynched to death.
Tell mama I gave up the ghost while holding my weapon.
Tell mama I loved the people who took my life so much that I didn't want to shed their blood.
Tell mama I died not on a strange land but on the land that gave me birth.
Tell my mama I'm gone never to return again.
Please tell it to my mama that i'm sorry.
Tell it of me that for their tomorrow I gave my today. RIP. CPT Mahama, gone but not forgotten.
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
But sometimes when we touch
the tears of yesterday when eyes turned rain
and the heart felt alone in the crowd
that was when your voice set it free
But sometimes when we touch,
the shadows of psychology and emotions
and the fullness of the mind with no data
that was when your face melted away loneliness.
But sometimes when we touch,
the warmth of anger and of its illness
and when no distinction was made
that was when your embrace smiled at me
But sometimes when we touch,
the deafening of the sense organs
and when eyes, nose, and ears were meaningless
that was when your note in my hand breathed on me.
But sometimes when we touch,
the concept of reality and destiny
and of may and/or may not
that is when our lives are determined
But sometimes when we touch
we touch love and friendship.
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Lambert Adwini-Poku Poem
Anytime Mama Dance, she dance the beauty of a woman in her prime
A journey of thousands in the air she waves
Mama has always been proud of something
The voice of a crying- big-headed African child
As it is a call to natural duty and sacrifice.
The high pitch from her old voice
Spoils the beauty of a song to the public.
But in the ears of we the little ones,
A motivation of long cherished years ahead.
She dances to the good tune of her children’s smile
Even when all seems fades and pale.
Mama’s dances bring us memories of laughter
As it has always been,
A similar move with an identical outcome.
Mama has been my best dancer
Even though she has had no award
From the organizers of dancing competitions.
Her smile alone gives a new rhythm to music
Whiles her sweat, a tasty water that resurrects egos
Mama will always dance in me
Until her love takes me to eternity
Keep dancing Mama.
Copyright © Lambert Adwini-Poku | Year Posted 2015
|
|