REVOLUTION

We are greater than it’s been said
Our blood flows thicker than that which our forefathers bled on battles they led
That which they shed upon our heads in anointing
We are discerning people who yearn and labor to in turn be more fulfilling than that on which we fed.

We are artists, decision makers and steadfast entrepreneurs
Enriching our earth with blood, sweat and tears to last past the years
Into decades, centuries and millenniums
We are the new age of freedom
From us comes a new age to stage change.
We do no lay on our backs side-tracked by monetary gain
Or tread on old paths picking up old crumbs that remain
We are the innovators, the no-Sayers to preachings the vain proclaim
We reject imitations and limitations set a stepping stone to esteemed heights
We are not fixated on stardom although our succession shines bright.

We are truth seekers, articulate speakers voicing the noise of the silent; the vibrant strength of the weaker
We are our brother’s keepers
Sisters who don’t chase misters just for a taste of a little glitter
We protect and respect our own for we are them
We are men, women and children joined at the stem
We are fine-cut stones
We are gems.
Diamonds in the African rough
Sought after and made to believe we don’t blend in with the dirt and the scuff
They intend to take us to a foreign land to be refined, that is, pretend to be one of them
But we remain grounded with the rest of the pure stuff
To hell with their graces,
The pride we bear is enough.

We are illumination to a bleak vision
The reconstruction of a forgotten mission
The proclamation that a nation broken within itself must be its own salvation
We are the revolution.
Stand Up !

PHASES

These days that add to me steal from me

I was a whole moon now crescent

A prominent face of innocence

Hassled by an ugly world left barely decent.

I must be a descendant of pain

The rain knows me by name

And told these dark clouds to hover over my head

Just to shower my shame.

And though my finger points at all but me

It is I who is to blame.

I am afraid.

Standing in the middle of myself scared to look around

Tip toeing around my conscience too scared to make a sound

A pound of my flesh for each tragedy told

Another pound still for the hurt

Now ain’t I a sight to behold!

Yesterday has grown cold

The ice keeps melting into my flesh

Seeping through my pores

Saturated with blood oozing from my chest.

I cannot thresh black from white

And so I’m stuck with the grey

The me I was stands in a distance

From the me that I am today.

But these days that steal from me add to me

I am a crescent forming into a full moon

An eminent evidence of growth

A butterfly to emerge from this cocoon.

THE WRITE ROAD

I never really liked myself when I was growing up

Always felt like that drop of water left settled at the bottom of the cup

Unspoken for and ignored to be thrown out against the pavement

A mental enslavement to abandonment never endorsed.

My face embossed with tears, droplets dropping without remorse

Forced to merge with the forces of darkness with no true meaning of who I really was;

A girl undiscovered.

Night times caught me shivering without the cold but alone so I slept uncovered

Suffered to the bone and taunted by the shadows that hovered

Haunted by the ghosts of the unknown.

Most days were a daze treading passages built like a maze preceding my own amazement when I made it home

My bathroom mirror revealing a girl who stood inferior to her own reflection

Unforgiving to her errors oblivious to the greatness of her true person.

Confused by the blues of a girl standing in a woman’s shoes unable to choose the tools that separates her from the fools.

My heart beat me till I bruised.

The clock took stock of time with each tick tock interlocked with unwelcomed thoughts held deeper inside

My insides an intricate design of intestines and discomfort intertwined.

Those were the days of yesteryears when matter stood master over my mind.

Spent that portion of my youth in the pursuit of truth in all the wrong places I could find.

And then I wrote…

Morning came and joy did not always follow but I wrote away the sorrows and swallowed the reality pills held hostage in my throat

I stood president over my affairs when it became apparent that it only entailed that I afford myself the vote

Time after time of jotting my quotes in little notes encouraged the self actualization that I was more than I gave myself credit for

Ink gave me a platform to think and when I would close my eyes in a blink words instead of tears synced with my paper

Who knew a pen could mend the break in time unend and send the negativity away to fend for herself because I would no longer feed her

Not a writer, nor a poet, more of a thought projector

I write to bare my whole being just in order to protect her

If I were able to label these words I’d name them my soul protector.

My imagination bursts with color and relieves my thoughts of its solidarity to the comfort zone

Finally I’ve grown into my own and reaped some wisdom from what little seeds of words I have sown.

EMPOWERED

Society frowns upon sobriety but it won't directly say so

It subtly inebriates your consciousness till the duality of left and right is left unstable

See when your priorities get misplaced you always do as you're told

And with society calling the shots, the bullets are aimed to pierce your soul.

You and I are of the same breed

A pedigree trained to follow, born to lead

Beaded in a society that sees yet neglects our needs

So its conventions we succeed.

They watch us bleed and plead for change

Greed feeds the system so its arranged in their favour

Thence now and later they have the power

to fill our reserved seats with the over aged.

Sit still or demonstrate

Write. Draw. Scribble within and out the box or remain a blank page plagued a caged bird;

A script-less actor on an empty stage.

We envisage tomorrow similarly with selective imagery

One man plans to work

Another works a plan drawing an abstract legacy the future looks upon like a memory.

They are disciples of a dream

Their deeds cycle seamlessly

Insightful rebels for the team

But one lives his while the other lives another's scheme

For only one is satisfaction guaranteed.

Yaa Asantewaa led battle long before anyone convened to Beijing.

Let not your gender drag you under

Consider it blunder to weaken before you strife, put asunder the facile life.

Sing tunes of "Yes I Can" to string things that bring mediocrity to an end

Dare to transcend the expectations normalcy extends.

Procrastination steals at your will till you're broke

And broken souls hang a stole around unspoken goals

Too tightly for design and choke words that leave success songs unsung.

Postpone to tomorrow only what today can survive undone.

You too are a painter of life

With art galleries shooting masterpieces through your system

So scientists named them your ARTeries.

Don’t let it last, that draft of your future they based on their past

Remember change roams within your range like a rover

She’s the fat lady who won’t sing cuz the show’s never over

There’s room for one more thought, one idea, one more vision

In your hands, lies one more chance to impact a generation.