Chant your war songs
Beat your war drums
Call out your ‘enemies’
Accuse them of the atrocities you committed
When you spilled the blood of your infant dreams
And let it be the precipitate of the war you wage
Chant your war songs
Beat your war drums
Draw your weapons and charge
Chase the shadows of your infant dreams that haunt you
Convince yourself that getting blown like debris in the wind
Is so right because everyone seems to follow the wind’s suit
Then, swear to yourself that being different is a luxury you cannot afford
Chant your war songs
Beat your war drums
Display your trophy of self-contempt under the disguise of smiles
Call yourself the phantom slayer and have songs composed for this
Brag about how you were a badass on the battlefield
Grasp for air and pause for dramatic effects as you tell the stories
But behind the scenes curse the fright your own shadow gives you.
Chant a new song
Change the rhythm of your drum beat
You have life, there is hope
Reunite with your inner self and chase after the elephants of your dreams
Hunt them with patience, for it is a mother of a beautiful child
Let your imaginations travel far and wide
Because traveling is learning
Refuse to plant your dreams by the roadside
And do not let them eat your food and forget your name
Always remember, no one ever succeeded without making a mistake or two.
Selikem T.K Geni 2016 ©
Two days ago I cried for young girl who had spread her wings as she did the fire dance
For very soon she would wish she could suffocate her flames
because too many men want to stick their hands into her stove
Even before she can learn to harness the power of her flames
Yesterday, I wailed for a young boy who did not know the power of his tongue and hands
He did not believe he had to speak life to his dreams as he builds them with his hands
Rather he grasps at the straws of other people’s dreams
Because he does not recognize the keys to unlock his dreams in his hands
This morning, I saw the pride of a man dragged through the market
With his fellow men lined up at both ends of the street
poking sticks at his dying dignity with charred compassion
which was poured into a gutter so it be washed away with the debris
This afternoon, I saw a mother’s compassion turn cold and ugly
She said the child was not her’s so she could not be his fairy godmother
Not even for a second so humanity could have hope
After all everyone for himself, God for us all
This Evening, I sit and mourn for my generation
Our present stares down on us as though we have a bad youthful marriage
Sons and daughters of warrior kings and queens who mark time rather than move forward
So let me pour out a tot of my soul to you so you gulp it down
Let the syncopation of memories’ heart beat draw you closer to the truth
Let the smell of burnt memories remind us of who we were and are supposed to be
For we are a generation of greatness now struck down by the disease of self-centeredness
What happened to our communal spirit that made us sit very close enough that we touched each others’ needs?
What happened to tearing a soft part of yourself and handing it over to others
Watch as they mold it and hand it over to you better than they found it?
What happened to the good life being the smiles we placed on each others’ faces
And the joy we etched deep in souls?
So let me pour you a tot of my soul to gulp down
Let me make it two and maybe, just maybe you’ll get drank enough
for this poem to resound in the ears of your heart
©Selikem Tenu. K Geni
This is for the one whose pride now lives at the refuse dump
And is constantly receiving hair cut advice from the vultures
The one whose dignity has been trampled on so many times
its closest relationship is with the patch ground on which it lies
This is for the one who has been told many times that beauty run
in the opposite direction when they first met
and that her ugliness drives the devil to accept Christ as his Lord and personal Savior
This is for the one whose fears have become visions
tied to the cloth of reality
This is for the one who feels lost in the maze of life
And feels his progress is taking him nowhere
This is for you
This is for me
This is for us
Take a good look at yourself, you are here for a reason
Let self-love be the wind the glides your sail to the land of self-worth
Gather your tools and make love to the fertile soils of your dreams
Let the refuse dump be compost for the flowers of your dreams
to bloom and pour perfume forth on the pestilence of ill advice.
Let your dignity’s domineering shadow be the only thing the patch ground sees
Fuel that light in your heart and let your beauty shine
For you are beautiful than you imagine
And please remember, you are the child of the centipede
Losing a limb will never cripple you.
Dedicated to all the Women who are QUIET about their ABUSE
Hush, woman don’t you cry
I am the last person to whom you will say goodbye.
So she cocoons herself in pain she tells no one about
Hush Woman don’t cry.
I love you that is why I beat you when you go wrong
I did not pay so much bride price for you to make such flimsy mistakes
So she accepts pain as love and believes she deserves it all.
Hush Woman don’t cry
I am the Lord of this house and so my word is final
Any action that contradicts mine deserves punishment
I am your god and you must bow to me
So she worships him out of fear and calls it love
Hush Woman don’t cry
You deserve all these, you stupid slut
Don’t even think of leaving me
If you do, I will hunt you down like the rat you are and kill you
This is not a threat, it is an assurance.
So she locks herself up in this doorless jail, believing she is unworthy of true love
Do not hush woman, please cry out.
Do not let your silence be where you bury your pain
Good times are not meant to be seasonal
Unlock that shackles in your mind because you deserve every bit of happiness
Break out of that cocoon of pain and fly out spreading those beautiful wings
There is nothing to be ashamed of, so speak out
Before your hush and hidden tears, leads you to the grave
Selikem Tenu K. Geni 2016 ©
Your gait is a prelude to seduction
Your presence the cause of riots in my emotions
Burning down all the fragments of the walls i have built
You let out the devil in me through the door
And the angel in me sneaks in through the windows
You leave me bare like a naked flame
Burning in the pureness of the moments I confess
Things hitherto I was so oblivious to
Yes I am guilty of the things I now feel
Like a sinner seeking salvation I come to thee
You have become my ministry of Love
And I willingly let you lead me on
Your grace is a prelude to hunger
Your gentleness the cause of a thirst
That makes me long for a deep satisfaction
You make the imp in me repent to a jolly good fellow
And bring me to my knees like Muslims salaaming at sunset
With my unstable countenance protruding like their buttocks
Then i begin to speak in tongues like a priest in trance
I can swear I have seen heaven
Seen the golden streets and paced upon them
I can swear I have walked beyond cloud nine
Swear my foot prints are now etched on the clouds
And experienced real madness in sanity
All my life I have felt you but only for as long as I wanted to
I have been too busy chasing the elusive bird of unknown dreams
Yet each time you find me when all seem like a mirage
You sooth my pains even when I’m stuck in the gallows of self pity
But now the self placed specks have been taken off my eyes
So now I choose you
I choose to strive for the best
I choose to standout and make my mark
I choose to fight for what is right and do what is right
I choose to look beyond obstacles and see success
I choose to live life to it’s fullest
I choose you HAPPINESS
Aside the new building that had sprang up in place of the mud house that housed his family, the old neighborhood had not experienced any significant changes. The road was still as dusty as always and Castle du Assiam as they called back in the days still sat on top of the hill casting a menacing shadow on the other houses at the foot of the hill. The new paint work made it stand out like the clean shaven head of a big headed child. Memories began to trickle down Kuuku’s mind and all he could let out was a chuckle. As the taxi wiggled itself up the hill like a pepper worm, it’s body began to vibrate due to the bass from the music blurring out of the house. He remembered how he and his seven other siblings in their old but new dresses will line up at the gate of the Assiams during festive seasons to receive gifts of sweets, biscuits and squash from Mrs. Assiam. He had always admired that woman and it was going to be great seeing her again. He just was not sure if she was going to make him out. As kids he remembered always being the bone of contention between Sika and her friends. There were times he even got ganged up on and beaten by her elder brother Jones and his friends just for being around her. One time it got so bad that, his Mother made him promise to stay away from any of the Assiams after he got home with a torn uniform and had two missing front teeth. Up till date he still remembered what she said that night as she nursed his wounds. ‘Kuu, when the lizard and its cousin the gecko decided to have a party a butterfly must avoid attending it no matter how enticing the invite is.’ Secretly he still maintained the friendship with Sika till she left for the UK after primary six and that was eighteen years ago. When he received a friend request from her two years ago on Facebook, he was not sure whether it was actually her. Even after accepting her friend request it would take him another two months to respond to messages she had sent and that was when their friendship rekindled. Over the next year they skyped almost every day with each other, and exchanged tons of messages via whatsapp. It was as though they were trying to cover lost grounds. Gradually his emotions began to gravitate towards love and so he told her how he felt about her. When she told him she couldn’t be with him, he felt sad but grateful that they were still very good friends. Deep in his heart he wished that things would change between them and was willing to be patient for this to happen. Two days ago, he received a phone call from an unknown local number and it was Sika. She said she had just arrived in Ghana and was inviting him for a party at her father’s house that weekend.
Truth be told Kuuku was not sure whether he was doing the right thing or not. Going to this party meant opening closets he was not ready to open yet but as fate would have it Sika had insisted that he come at all cost because she had something important to tell him. Just as he got out of the taxi a saloon car speed towards him and nearly rammed him into the gate. Then a head pops out from the driver’s side and hauls cusses at him ‘idiot do you think this is your bedroom’. As the car drove past him into the house, Kuuku realized it was Max, the guy who was madly in love with Sika when they were kids. Indeed nothing had changed about his attitude. Smiling coyly to himself Kuuku entered the house and after scanning through the crowd walked to an empty table and sat down. A waiter walked up to him and asked what he cared for. Then a sweet voice gave a response from behind him
‘A mixture of Orange juice and pineapple juice spiced with a shot of vodka will do’ replied Sika to the waiter who was taking Kuuku’s order.
Smiling, Kuuku got up from his chair and hugged her knocking a few glasses off the table. He pulls away from the hug, looks at her from head to toe, signals her to do a three sixty turn and hugs her passionately again
‘God you look so stunning girl. Now I’ve realize how much I have missed you’ he whispered into her ears
Sika was lost in her own world in his arms. He smelled really nice and looked more handsome than she had imagined. Indeed this was the right time to be in his arms. Just then the music went off cutting and blurring out of the speakers was Max’s voice.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, Can we now have a speech from the lady of the moment my lovely wife Sika. Sika where are you? We are waiting.’
Wife? Wow! Reality has a way of handing rude awakening to the dreamy ones Kuuku thought to himself. Now everything was making sense. Embarrassed by Max’s attitude, Sika wished the ground would open its mouth and swallow her. What would Kuuku think of her now? As the crowd turned towards her and started clapping, Max rushed to her side and virtually dragged her to the microphone stand. With the microphone now in her hand she looked towards where Kuuku was standing, but he was no longer there. Her heart sunk and her feet began to wobble.
‘Errrm, Ladies and Gentlemen thanks for honoring my invitation. To set the records straight Max is my ex-husband who I think has had a little too much to drink. With that out of the way, Let’s have fun. DJ let the music play.’
Sika dropped the microphone and dashed towards the gate screaming
‘Kuuku! Kuu! Kuuku! Wait! Don’t goooooo…’
Just as she got to the gate she saw a taxi speed off. Overwhelmed by what had happened she broke down in tears. Now she has lost the one true love of her life thanks to Max. Just then she felt a tap on her shoulder she turned and it was Max. She felt like tearing him into pieces and scattering it at the four corners of the earth so that no one could piece him together. There are indeed some devils in one’s life that stick like a shadow.
‘Gosh, please get out of my life. Dear Lord, let this divine representative of stupidity vanish’ she yelled tearfully.
As she walked past him, Max grabbed her arm violently and she flinched in pain, then out of nowhere appeared Kuuku.
‘Charley, let go of her, you are creating a scene’ Kuuku retorted
Sika broke free from Max’s grip and rushed into Kuuku’s arms. Her tears rolled off her beautiful cheeks and hit his chest like pellets from a gun. He could feel a mixture of contradicting emotions emanating from them and somehow felt glad that she indeed had feelings for him that she was no longer willing to hide. Then from nowhere a punch landed squarely on his face from Max. Instinctively he Kuuku also threw a punch in Max’s direction but with Sika stuck in between them, he could not hit the target the way he wanted to. He rushed to Sika’s rescue and virtually picked her from the floor. A small crowd had gathered in front of the house during the scuffle and among them was Mr. Assiam. He signaled Kuuku to bring Sika into the home. As the two love birds walked past him, he smiled. Just then Max made a move towards the house but was stopped by Mr. Assiam.
‘Max, go home! You’ve caused enough mayhem for a night.’ With this said he turned and entered his house.