Circling the sun

January 

Too abstract too plain 

The memories January hoards 

How do I calculate the weight of longing ?

February 

I held poetry in my palms 

To grow where the rainbows blossom  

Why is it so hard to write about love ?

March 

Colouring the void 

Within and without 

Not even the crickets sing anymore 

April 

Moons that followed as everywhere we went 

And the ice pellets we picked in the rains 

What happened to the world we knew as children ?

May

Freedom from subtlety 

There’s something about simplicity 

And my ineffable words that rhymes with reason 

June

Lampshades on fire

Dawn begins to creep 

Who placed a Bounty on my head ?

July

So why don’t you give it a try  

Lend me a hand see if it reaches me 

I will meet you half way 

August 

In your bliss 

Far fetched from my glory 

Don’t forget me when you are famous 

September

Poised for the healing 

A blooming A trance 

You can have it all ,my jar of wishful thoughts 

October

Holding your absence 

Then the quite explosion 

Why does your words sound like silence ? 

November 

Tears became a river that craved an impossible blue

My tears never reached earth 

You were never here 

December 

And in all hope 

More smile more love more chocolate 

What the world really needs now . 

 

Photo from google

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Forest Tales – with Kwaku Quansah.

Stepping out of a canoe somewhere under the clouds, going over the plains, into the midland, above the coastal landscape, below the anthills of the savannah, along the tangled vegetation lining the stream banks ;My days are spent in awe and my nights in starlight.

The view from below, my eyes to the glaring skies, a momentary tranquillity sets in as my feet wander on edgy pathways through the terrain of beauty under night shades.

Here echoes the chirps of birds and crickets that live in the thickets, the sounds from these whispering forest trees and the whine of mosquitoes in a moonlight nocturne.

Here in this land in the wilderness, my thoughts blossom eagerly, pushing through my horizon. Written and spoken tales emerge, in part intrinsic to natives too, their groovy homes, roads and sounds of cocks and their penitentiary lifestyle.

The cold weather is all around. And we breathed out vapour with every word. The clouds are just above my eyes and the dew endures throughout the forenoon.

There are trees that grow apples and wild fruits with tinkling winds surrounding them.
Over here only one road exists, so people are easily found. No cars, no buses, no trucks, just bicycles made from bamboos and a few donkey carts.

The borders of the forest are undefined. And the people, well the people are never still, moving up and down the hills,
Maybe in the jungle searching for a kill,
Or on their farms gathering food for their evening meal.

They don’t have the luxury to afford flashy electronic gadgets or kiss technology like it’s their own, not because they know little about it but a far more solemn belief on the fair idea on survival.

Work is done on the ground with these hands. And the way of living is like the bore hole that stood behind the shrub; all it needs is just a little effort

Every soul in the forest is made a pantheon. From mankind to animals and the breathing evergreen pines, so a Sunday is basically a Friday. Some still believe in the gods of their fathers.Though Christianity is gradually gaining grounds, but their culture is left intact with little altered.

Berries and nuts are devoured daily on the way to the farmlands and people turn into savages before they know it. I soon became one at the forefront of creation in its enchanted oasis in the jungle.

Colourful and vibrant is the scene from birds to butterflies and beautiful insects beneath and around the blooming jades with swamps filled will hippos and elephants.
The sun looks tired with its auburn colour as it rests at sunset and the colour smirked, God’s one eye .The view is such a beauty amidst the deep blue skies.

The night comes too quick and ushers the other, the moon.
From the window, there’s a shade of bright light reflecting on the organ of vision. It falls on every part and portion of the vegetation although it has a crust of black and white mixed together
Grey is the word am searching for but then it appears unbalanced

We rise early to pace up the hour.I walked for three miles this morning to a farm, footprints all over the trails in the woods and when the day is dead and shadows flee, the eventide invites a by the fire side gathering.

We become mass vespers to ancient tales of mysteries of trees and animal life told to horrify our youthful interest. But it was all good and gold, I learned a lot of the ways of the wise and old.
Minds become canvases thereafter painted however we wanted.

Rains set in and new life blooms from underneath the dead leaves, light and sound mingle harmoniously enchanting the skies with thunder and lightning.

The forest, a little further into the depths of these parts, divulges the tetra-seasons as they come into being.
The virgin forest lives to have her fertile periods. And the aftermath? Thick layers of green surround the wild forest’s streams.

Beauty wears a face; it’s shown in this land
Nature knows no bounds; it is everywhere.

Proofreading by Mayaa Acheampong.
Photo credit : Kofi Amed
Written by Kwaku Quand and Kofi Amed © 2018

August Crush

Moist with evenfall
A scented flower in full bloom
Breaking July’s last darkness

Its murmuration
In absence
Like silence in a broken glass

Rippling echoes
Penetrating
Through ephemeral shadows

Spilling letters
And undaunting rhythms
Too dense to stifle

But I believe in amber
Carnations and white roses
Pink sunsets and blue noon moons

And your unquestionable presence
Under this galaxy of stars
Against the recurring tides

How long will your light hold?
And your drifting song linger?
Without strings and ambience

So
Will you seize my wish?
and build with me
You drifting song,
August Crush.

African Rhythms

I am….
An Ashanti warrior A Bantu dancer
I am a Yoruba royal clothed in my Asooke
Dancing Adowa and kpalogo to tunes from wulomei and masekela  

I am proud Masai
Standing around manyattas,
Jumping to melodies from the olaranyani
Eunoto is here and today I dance in front my peers in transition into a senior warrior 

Oh how sweet the African rhythms
Imprudently lifting and soul soothing
Sisala sebrew on Akan drums
Highlife explorations unending on opus 1. 

I am an Ewe woman
From the lineage of Nerfetiti
And a great great ….grand daughter of Nandi
My Gèle will never fall off
My Dashiki will never fade out

I am a Fulani herdsman
Wandering the Sahel plains of Africa
Along with a fellow Malinke brother
Who speaks fluent igbo and today we revisit our roots in Nok 

I’m from Gao
320 km east-southeast of Timbuktu.
A descendant of Sonni Ali ,
Reciting the epic of Sundiata,
And The tales of Kwaku Ananse with intertwining soothing kora melodies from Kandia Kouyate 

Ah how dazzling the African landscape
And glorious it’s Heritage
Such rekindling and Homeric folklores
And boundless diverse cultures 

I am the African dream
One of my mother’s many sons
One of my father’s many daughters
The revelations of the high priest
I’m the incantations of royal fetish and message behind the talking drum 

Oh caress the mystique by the fire side nights
Plunge into the depths of colorful festive days 
Take a trip down Diego Garcia
And dance away to the rhythms so sweet 

I am the African noble
Free from identity torment
I know of my glorious past and my colorful future
My city will bleed no more
Never again will i be a wanderer 

 I know my culture
And my alluring language
Ah how powerful the African names
Araba Termytorphe and Ifedayo chant in unity
Diallo Sissoko and Achiaa bestow serenity 

Mbali and Lamisi elegantly wore their kente
Tonight we dance to tunes from the kete
For Yaa Asantewaa never gave up the fight
So we lift our hearts with emancipated minds
To reach new heights ! O’ Nana Nyame,
May you forever guide us with your light .

 Photo , “African Dance” kind courtesy of  Okwoju El -Dragg

This poem celebrates the diversity and uniqueness of the African Continent, its Heroes and the culture of its people. It celebrates the culture most noted tribes on the continent by making reference to their names, music, customs, dressing etc. It was inspired the Album (Opus 1) of the Pan African Orchestra an orchestra using indigenous African traditions and instruments founded by Nana Danso Abiam n 1988 in AccraGhana

Everglow

Wild geese
Avid thinker
Ill fated swain

Wait for days
In return of amber
A perfervid bard

Your reluctant footsteps
like sentimental tunes
Life’s background music

And lustrous wings
In a conceited vying
Do not crucify yourself

Reason triumphs
In wake and in sleep
Let emotions wither

Get called or be seated
Life’s waiting room
Perhaps no validation needed

Wild geese
Ineludible lover
Everglow ,sincerely Yours .

KNOW YOUR PLASTICS

Plastics have become part of our everyday lives .They are used to package almost everything ; food to clothing, phones and accessories, water, electrical and cooking appliance etc. These plastics and plastic products comes with a great cost and may pose major risk to our health and the environment.

Plastic bottles and containers are one of the most widely used rubber products, and here in Ghana, They usually aren’t mostly discarded after its initial use. Plastic water bottles and containers are cleaned and reused to package a variety of food, cooking oil, herbal remedies etc ,with which users of these products have little or no idea about the harmful effects of the continuous use of these products.

Ever tried to find out the meaning of the numbers and symbols under these plastic bottles and containers? Well these numbers and symbols show the extent to which these plastic water bottles can be used or recycled their side effects and even their chemical composition.

Chemicals in these plastics can leach into bottled water, especially when exposed to heat or when the bottle is continuously being used when it’s old. Every plastic container or bottle has a recycling symbol inscribed mostly underneath .The symbol ranges from 1 to 7 surrounded by a triangle as shown below.

maxresdefault-2 Symbols mostly found under plastic bottles and containers

 (PET) “1” signifies that the product is made out of polyethylene terephthalate (PET), which is used for beverage bottles, cups, soft and hard drink bottles, water bottles, detergent containers etc.It’s the most widely used plastic and the most easy to recycle

This type of Plastics are very safe but the problem with its usage is that antimony, a metalloid element with toxic qualities, may leach from PET into product in the bottle and the rate of leakage increases with temperature especially, in outside room temperature.

According to the U.S. Center for Disease Control (CDC), antimony can cause acute and chronic health issues, such as diarrhoea, vomiting, and stomach ulcers. Also according to the Breast Cancer Organization, Polyethylene Terephthalate (PET) are generally considered OK to use, but not safe to reuse. Research also strongly suggests that at certain exposure levels, some of the chemicals in these products, such as Bisphenol A (BPA) may leach into the product which may cause cancer in people.

HDPE ” 2″– High-Density Polyethylene. Used in making opaque milk, water, juice, bleach, shampoo, yogurt, margarine, and cereal box liners. Considered fairly safe.

3

Though these plastics are very safe,they leach toxins into products if exposed to sunlight, microwaves or boiling water.

PVC “3”– polyvinyl chloride is used for making toys, clear food packaging, shampoo bottles, cooking oil, nut butter containers, shower curtains, window blinds and plastic pipes. PVCs which can be used to make artificial leather, bath tub toys, inflatable bathing rings and table cloths ,artificial leather, floor coating and children’s handbags  all leach toxic chemicals into water, according to a Swedish study from 2008

PVCs may also leach phthalates (DEHP or BBzP) which mimic estrogen in the human body and are endocrine system disruptors.

They have been linked to asthma, allergies, certain types of cancer, and have negative effects on the liver, kidney, spleen, bone, and body weight and the process of manufacturing such products is also quite toxic to the environment. http://ajrccm.atsjournals.org/content/186/9/830

LDPE “4”– Low-Density Polyethylene. Used in shopping bags, dry cleaning, bread and frozen food bags, plastic wraps, and squeeze bottles such as for condiments. It’s considered a low hazard plastic.

LDPE does not contain BPA, (Bisphenol A) but as with most plastics, it can leach estrogenic chemicals into products when in high temperatures which may in turn affect the consumer.

PP “5”– Polypropylene is used to make food containers such as yogurt, butter, ketchup, straws, Rubbermaid and opaque plastic containers, baby bottles, car interior trim, industrial fibers, etc.

Considered fairly safe due to its high heat tolerance and as such, does not seem to leach many of the chemicals as compared to other plastics due to its strength and ability to withstand higher temperatures.

PS – Polystyrene is used in making Styrofoam, plastic egg cartons, disposable cups, bowls, plastic Cutlery, CD cases etc.

Polystyrene can leach styrene, a suspected carcinogen, especially in the presence of heat. This type of plastic is difficult to recycle and so mostly finds its way into the earth’s dumps and oceans. The Breast Cancer Organization advises that consumers do not cook food in these plastics and avoid using no. 6 plastics around any type of food.

“7” This category consists of plastics that are not classified under the first 6 categories and mixes of plastics including biodegradable, plant-derived plastics made from corn/potato starch or sugar cane (polymer polylactic). The most common plastic in this category is Polycarbonate. It was developed as an alternative to die cast metal. These plastics also contain Bisphenol A which disrupts hormones among humans.

 

According towww.breastcancer.org , to reduce your exposure to other chemicals in plastics:

  • ” Don’t cook food in plastic containers or use roasting/steaming bags; the plastic residues may leach into food when heated in a regular or microwave oven.
  • Use glass, porcelain, enamel-covered metal, or stainless steel pots, pans, and containers for food and beverageswhenever possible, especially if the food or drink is hot.
  • Plastics with recycling symbol 2, 4, and 5 are generally considered OK to use. Plastics with recycling symbol 7 are OK to use as long as they also say “PLA” or have a leaf symbol on them. The recycling symbol number is the code that shows what type of plastic was used to make the product.
  • Recycling symbol 1 is also OK to use, but shouldn’t be used more than once (no refilling those store-bought water bottles!). Keep all plastic containers out of the heat and sun. “

References

Images from

Sites /articles for further reading

 

Note: All data and information provided in this post are for informational purpose only.

Proofreading by Fafa McCauley.

Here is to Breaking Free -with Elorm Kwakye

Breaking free from conformity
My feet slightly shaking maybe scared
My eyes covered in fears of tidal swills
The full moon shines within its pale void

Paleness shone bright and the light it gave went wide
Leaving the heart less life of fear
The eyes sweat with tears
Never leaving the feet to stand

Struggling out of the foggy mist
Never ending shit into serenade phase
Out of the background of a haunted place
Power and strength clenched in my fist

The fist of a warrior The fist of a stranger
Out of the mist and worry
Battle line drawn battle front brought
Never to back down never to break down

Tumbling down the walls of solitude blinds
Breaking free from illusions chain
Round and round within the hefty rains
Redemptive songs my soul screams

Louder than the rushing steams
Racing over the swearing streams
Loosing nothing in gain
The songs of the soul a redemptive pain

The pain in joy
Giving away nothing,The feat jolts to a stop
The line crossed, the heart is searching for space.

Leaking Pen….

Opening
Fourth street and the divide meet
Near the stream where it’s waters Impede
Five metres walk from the wooden bridge
A little further away from the deserted car park
Underneath the third tree with the broken bench !

De ja vu
Green leaves fell beneath my brown moccasins
Sounds of an unending symphony caste in
And it feels like I’ve been here before
Over and over again

Epiphany
Sense a wise fill beyond these greens
To rise through the times with pulse calmly,
And glide through the devil softly

Strange talk
Working on a feeling
Binging on poetry
Drowning the sea
Persuading illusions
Eluding obsessions
Disjointed phrases and melodramas
Clenched in a monologue

Love story
Welcome back home
There’s food in the kitchen

Happenstances
Lost in admiration
From close encounters
In a rhyme connected to a poem
Stealing glances
In between time and after time
Let love be …
Pinky swears

Life of leisure
Paintings and Figures
Sleeping on a rainy morning
Becoming a muse
A burst of laughter
Delighted and witty ;Inherently amused

Feels like yesterday
Old convos and forgotten faces
Paper planes and Origami cranes
Kites with no tails
Leave farewell shadows on the ground

life’s simple pleasures
Stunning sunset
Popping a bubble wrap
Game with a queen
Dimples and dark chocolates
Petrichor and sweet fragrances
Unusual beauty
Long walk underneath the vast acrylic skies.

Anyway you look at it
Modesty is attractive
Perfection is overrated
Darkness matters
Love divine will make us
Oblivion is a safe heaven ,
Inclined amidst a chaotic despondency .

You name it
A song for the lonely
A frenetic cadence of loathe and harmony;
A harmony reeling the melancholy
An unchained prolix of blatant facts
An anthology of beautiful fiction

So
Can you count the emotions
Can you read in between the lines
And solemnly draw your conclusion
Can you hear the echoes fringe
From the virtual spaces between

Again
There’s no need for a refrain
You do your crying in the rain
Surged by sudden sullen pain

Either way 
You were them under your sleeves
With all the melancholy and the peeve
But amber and somber will never leave
And upon your self will it forever heave

Water on my head
Balancing ambition with conscience
Under a cross;eluding the sickle moon
Interlaced with fragile chastity
And all the finest things connected to heredity

Bants 
Choked on an aroma
In my big brother’s kitchen
No need for endless debate

Promise
Unicorns and Afro minions
Serenity, endless looming serenity
Anchored behind cloud nine

Back on the motive
Matters of the heart
Silence and heartbeats
Permit my voice to sing it riddles

Look
Virtual spaces
Seemed a blessed hope
Of pretty things
That feels like yesterday
In a life of leisure, and rare happenstances

Odd soul
Held a cactus flower
Buoyed of a certain showing
Epiphanies and deja vus
Tinkling an opening farewell

Evening walk
By the road where the divide meet
Over bridge where the waters recede
It’s 12pm and am certain
Destiny still awaits me to fulfill my heavy fate.

Unaccompanied Paths: Behind broken Mirrors!

Once upon a stranger
A girl A well intentioned woman
With open and adorned soul
Askance behind silvered eyes and sighs,

Revealing her concealed seraphic smiles
In an unending sequence.
Yielded in gleams in day dreams,
With will be folklores and odes chronicling her unique meekness.

Once upon a moment,
I heard silent whispers fade
Within a bus on a starry August night
She stood up to take one last view
With hope gleaming in her heavy eyes
Half in joy half in fear.

Once upon what it seems
The empty streets the cold store fronts
In the stark of the night she fumbled and crumbled
In the heat of the day she struggled and saddled
Into the realms of unaccompanied paths;
A forlorn forest A dense city street

An unchained soul is caged
(By the ugly parodies of society)
In cells in the dungeons of her mind
She ponders on her dreams reality killed
As she walked through the shanty streets, accompanied by cheer and fond memories.

Once upon a again
Her hope lingers near;
To fill the void with beauty, Top a class of fifty.
Her dreams ignite cheer;
To rekindle the lonely, Build Hope for the needy.
An ebullience cradling every night, dazed with smiles lit by echoes.’

Once upon loop of forever after
Lamentations probed!
Between a forced marriage and a broken home,
One demure in her succinct lifetime
Raped abused and ignored.
A predicament lurking for so long,
Gradually prancing into suicidal thoughts.

And her world took a dark turn
For the moments were near felt burnt
And she recoiled deeper into her shells
Too late for your remorse and wishing wells.

Once upon a stolen dream
Once upon a neglected childhood
Once upon a depressing stroll
Once upon an abusive womanhood
Once upon a forced marriage
Once upon time and time again

“A bowed head,
Seeking shelter from raging tempests”
And as she lies on her five feet mat deep In her sleep where dreams unfold,
The Queen rises once again in her ultimate paradise.

Photo credit: Darwin Leon “Rape”

Save the Queen! stop women and child abuse. lets fight it ,lets end it.

Night Time on Independence Ave Street. 

Sigh!
Lights are on again!
Its been off for days
I guess, it’s a norm now
In this night time calm everywhere is lively.

Along the side walks ,people hang around.
The Broken street lamps and crooked traffic lights, Its been so for ages.
And in this euphoric may night we live for the moments.

The toss is won the battle is on
Five on each half the atmosphere is tensed
Folks lined up for battle….

Armed with upheld moves
And many legendary stunts
Let the war begin..atomic moves to kill
And crazy styles to be unleashed
Couples scurry hand-in-hand underneath the orange street lights.

Children stand on stools to get a clear view .
Midgets fidgets their hands in front rows,
The grounds are dusty stakes are high.

I stand on the forecourt watching break dancers In turns of phase casting from in street to out street …And bougie kings with an opening from the hiplifers.

Ah and there comes busting bubbles boys
Dancing in blue jeans masked with bandanas
Joined by the no limit crew.
And there comes Sticks breaking bones,
Koddy wasn’t on the bill but he’s here to grace the show .

All moments captured,
In blacks and in whites.
And i still stand and watch In colour and in light ,the Magic night time on independence ave street .
ve street .

photo coutersy of Abbass Ismail “Blitz and the Bikers photo shoot at James Town ,Accra”

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