ZINDAGI

  Here's an interesting guest feature by Kofi Acquah, a prolific poet and spoken word artist.  Enjoy! 😉😍😍 Not until the fire burns a dead body into ashes,  shall darkness lay the bed of captured souls The past hour rippled urines of empty life in crippled circles and kingdoms_ this minute is emptying the streams of sweat on the cheeks of yesterday   Jump into the skies of ascending smoke with the smock and  inhale a mixed universe of unseen whispers of the old.   Fan the set fire of woods with your mouth_and the eyes will teach the tear duct how to: shed tears, become red  and strengthen the heart in the oval shaped tunnel of life.   The lantern is here— so see the stealers run at night in somersaulting feelings.   See the king beckoning through the smoke.  Kofi Acquah © #TheVilageThinker

Once, here was innocent of envy Once, here never stirred a frenzy Once here, hands moulded the levy Nothing imposed,nothing heavy Once, words and exchanges were lucid And nothing suffered being hidden Like the tiny,black ant Under the black stone In the middle of dark nights,so dark Dug deep a fear a well of one-eyed tears That which I tried to have them hear Bleaked, blurred in vision Blended and overshadowed by our missions Once held in a strong,fistful fang escapes through an explosion,a bang! Under the sun fates loosely hang Sakor Inusah Musah© (UHAS)  sakorunik@gmail.com

 There are a lot of talented budding poets and writers in Ghana and Inusah Sakor Musah is in a class all by himself... He presents his poetry with deep soulful mastery as well as neo-intellectualism that nourishes your mind and soul... Visit  www.thecreatars.wordpress.com  to check some of his other works...He calls this one "Careful Mate;My End Of Semester Lessons!.... Enjoy 😉 Stanza 1: Mr. Lumor And here comes Mr. Lumor He has this sense of humour That we all know to be a ridiculous tumor Whose symptoms we feel when he thinks we spread about him some rumours Careful mate, do not get over the moon by his dances For it is to the tunes of your failure​ that he dances His every move is inspired by the rhythm of the thought that your ignorance spikes above the roof. By :Sakor Inusah Musah

She smiles and its like I'm comfortably watching from my screens a telenovela Eloise, my sweet fat Valentina You are beautiful and obese, not beautiful but obese, you antagonise that beast Your frown when they call you fat is like some Adonko bitters commercial I always skip For all you are is what has dipped me wakeless into a lake of a feeling safe from gyp The eternities you spend just to find that dress that may fit But ludicrous they that never know their comments are but blips And that I'm blind to these hungry, slim girls dangling their deficient hips See how their comments hover you to the gym How you complain of the pains your knees endure while they carry your weight But like the cross you feel their sins are hours to bear to prove your love to me with strength and faith  By:InusahWrites

     Tapping away at his keyboard, he leaned in close, squinting at the image before him. He was in a plaid shirt and looked like he had been waiting for quite some time. Running a hand across his face, he slumped back into his seat, reclining in the wicker chair. Even sitting, he looked quite tall, his legs crossed at the ankles, and still engaged with his phone. At the chime of the glass crystals at the café front, he turned expectantly, and then slumped back into his seat, his forehead creasing into a frown. Glancing at his watch, he muttered some indistinct words and began fiddling with the frayed ends of the checkered tablecloth. In about two minutes into the inaudible monologue he was engaged in, he turned at the chime, and formed an inaudible word on his mouth, his eyes wide and bright. Gripping the edge of the table, he stood up unsteadily and walked towards her. Paul: I was not surprised that Akua was twenty minutes late. Again. Like she’d been for all our s...