NOTE “NOT FOR SALE”

 

Dangling, dangling and dangling

My old ceiling fan dangles

Bought some years ago I do not remember even

And now it is old

Though to say, I could sell it

In bits and bits

Not as that of King Solomon

Who will speak wisdom, born in it?

Yes, I know, His wisdom not for sale

 

Staggering, staggering and staggering

Like a drunkard

Who would be for more pot palm wine

At Mame Akosua door post

AS early as 3:00 AM

Yes, I do see him sometimes

Hm, they are for sale

Yes, so she sells them indeed

Very soon, Agbokpa

Yes Agbokpa, he will be poor

No, a pauper

He will drink in seedtime, slumber in harvest time

Not even Father Abraham would do that

In his days among others

Yes, I know wealth is not for sale

 

Reckless, useless and extravagant

Like a rich man lifestyle

Yes, often he would

When he thinks all to himself everything is

Where wishes are as commands

Thousand and one slaves’ and still counting

No! In our time

Cars, houses, lands, estates

Do help me continue, would you?

And thinking that all could possible be done in a day

Running, overtaking, in speed and in no time

Yes, but not as that of my Old friend Methuselah

Of course not,

Life is not for sale

Or, yes

Note “Not for sale”

WHAT NEEDS DOING?

 

In these our land where the wise would speak to the wise

Fools answering fools

Carpenters attending to Wood Cutters

Hunters to Butchers

 Mate to Captains

Apprentices to Masters

The gate officer

To higher authorities

Which would only come from above?

Reminding me of my little years in the Educational Institution

Where support are given men of authorities

Asked to rally behind them?

Not always

But where Caesar may not be given his due

Shall they be my foes?

Justice neglected

If father to Son only

Mother to daughter

What would be of goose and gander?

When party needs more than battalions

 Bouquet of flowers

If I fall for you

And you fall for me...

This is what needs doing.

TO THAT EARS WHICH COULD NOT

 

Like days of my friend Noah

When we built the ark together

Never needing a sailor

Or Master to direct the ship

No, MASTER

Or better still a captain

Where humanity of our time would not just heed to instructions

My close friend Ecclesiastes would tell you

There is time for everything

Of course there is

Especially to the kings heart

Which lies in the hands of the creator like a river?

And what about me the pauper                   

Sleeping and waking up with it

Means it not that I have to slumber

I would only remember the words of my good friend

Who will dine with Queen of Beersheba

That surely a wise fellow would grow in seedtime

You know the end to that story

If to them who has the ears would not listen

Hmm, I guess those with none

Would maybe listen with cork ears

Yes, I know

For how long possible

If strive always, I may be met by time

To quicken things up

To give me rest

Until then or?

Poverty would steal me like a thief

Oh, not so nice

Is it?