Grandpa is dead
He slipped
He fell
He bumped his head
Inside he bled
But as grey turned red
Before any tears were shed
‘Twas his arm we focused on instead

How obvious it seems
Now that he’s gone
To have scanned his crown
And yet we mourn
He was tired
He slept
He slept for long
He never awakened
He left at dawn

I pray his pain was very brief
That the handshake with death
Brought him great relief
Even as we remain here
Saddled with grief

Diffuse the light!
How dare they lie?
Conspiring to deny
This truth of mine:

I fear to die.

I tear, I cry
As death arrives
She dims my eyes—
Ambivalent demise

Illuminate me from within
That I may continuously overflow
Visions from the other side abound when still
Traveling through possibilities guided by skill—
Acquired in silence and exercise
Discovered through curiosity and incessant trials
Unyielding, unperturbed, undeterred by defeat
Who is the real winner when you’ve learned to heal a broken back?
Snapped in two you rose
Loving; not morose
Exchange of pain for propulsion
Charging forward into a new form
A different dream
Another reality
Peeling it forth into existence
Shedding the weight and wahala of the thorn-ridden
Never feeling the ridicule
Reflecting back unto the net-casters
False fishers of men
Asking irrelevant questions
Oblivious to the alternate frequency
Ignorant of the rewiring
Clueless about the decolonization
—The results of a waking dream
Where one sees that which exists beyond
Fit for daring eyes only
Forever waiting to be glimpsed
Blinding out mindless concerns
Healing from cranium to calcaneusIlluminate me from within
That I may continuously overflow
Visions from the other side abound when still
Traveling through possibilities guided by skill—
Acquired in silence and exercise
Discovered through curiosity and incessant trials
Unyielding, unperturbed, undeterred by defeat
Who is the real winner when you’ve learned to heal a broken back?
Snapped in two you rose
Loving; not morose
Exchange of pain for propulsion
Charging forward into a new form
A different dream
Another reality
Peeling it forth into existence
Shedding the weight and wahala of the thorn-ridden
Never feeling the ridicule
Reflecting back unto the net-casters
False fishers of men
Asking irrelevant questions
Oblivious to the alternate frequency
Ignorant of the rewiring
Clueless about the decolonization
—The results of a waking dream
Where one sees that which exists beyond
Fit for daring eyes only
Forever waiting to be glimpsed
Blinding out mindless concerns
Healing from cranium to calcaneus

Raise your hand if:
Despite all the marginalization
The constant alienation
The incessant oppression
You're still here
And you still hear
That voice inside
Reminding you of our strength
Your purpose
Your power
—The value of your imagination
Listen to that voice
And don't you ever stop dreaming

Dem say Ghana be free
The freedom I no de see
Dem lock wɔnna minds den souls
San so swallow the key
Like cocoa from Fernando Po
That be the only way out
We for Tetteh Quarshie that shit
If you know what I’m talking about
We cɔt the puppet strings sef ah,
Where we de go?
Dem whitewash wɔnna minds basaa
With nkontompo
Conf we make we de bleach wɔnna skin
With nkuto mpo
Mental Powerzone so deep
E make we lose wɔnna memory
Make we forget say
the Bible was brought by wɔnna enemy
Spiritual genocide,
Mausoleum of broken dreams
Another sixty years of ‘hey baba baba’
So it seems oh so it seems
Cue another sixty years of rapidly
Unraveling at the seams