Friday, February 3, 2012

Jungle Justice!


This is Jungle Justice!
thunder rumble/ lightning flash/bullets rain down
moon light glaze/guns ablaze
body count rise/fresh blood flow
red all over...shoot first/no questions asked
fairy tale dreams with story book lessons
promises and more promises/comfort to the fools
we are concerned...so we have beautiful words

read it in the newspaper
new day and new democracy
new name/ same result
more talk and free food at what cost?
paper money for natural wealth
flak jacket/ bullet proof vest/high fashion 
welcome to Jungle Justice!


Tuesday, May 10, 2011

to each his own...love thy neighbor?


WHO IS TO BLAME?


We all want to go foreign so who will be left to tell our story?
The same old people? We just don’t learn…
We have the diamonds, gold, silver but the queen wears the jewels
Binghi won’t take u to Zion…
Kpanlogo, agbadza, etc  Zion is our home
We sit on our own prosperity yet (seek/ ask) for a little pittance
So who is to blame when  we cry foul? as we hustle our culture for a few dollars


Burgers, fried rice, pizza,and all that…we all want to go foreign…
Been to! Seen it! Lived it! so who will be left to tell our story?
There is nothing better than our banku and fresh grilled tilapia
Fufu, groundnut soup, red red, kontomire, agushi, koko, kose , komi, shito
Waakye, koose, okro, gari, jollof, tuo zaafi, kelewele, kokonte, oblayoo, omo tuo, aboloo
Garifoto, kpotoikpotoi, oto, eba, abele ke akoshi, yele naa shi, amadang na sha,

If Jesus came back down as promised and Lord have mercy he meets Ghanaians
We will ask him to perform his miracles again
But we will give him neither h2o, loaves nor fish…we will ask him to bring his own
We demand because we feel we are owed something
Give a man fish and he becomes dependent but teach him to fish and he becomes independent
Guess which a Ghanaman chooses?

So who is to blame when we cry foul? as we hustle our culture for a few dollars

Easter has come and gone...till next time then...


THE LINE OF SACRIFICE

When the cock crowed three times u were the first to run
U deny ur own blood because of ur cowardice
Don’t forget the child always looks like the parent
Forget not that u laid with his mother
Come Sunday and holy days u sing praise songs to ur God
Hypocrisy is ur calling card…u speak the words, talk the talk, but can’t walk the line of sacrifice
Empty gestures to boost ur ego, but forget not that ur day of reckoning will come
Whether the cock crows or not, the dawn shall arrive and the moon rise up high in the sky
U have already failed once remember…it’s among the unmentionable subjects

U rode the backs of ur own blood to the top but
Hell if u’ll sacrifice a little of ur own yet u call urself His disciple
Always demanding homage to ur goodness…what will u say when ur name is called
Of course rattle off the good u done to ur own benefit…ur name is a salve for our wounds
It’s not whether u offer water to a dying man but when u make the offer
A tree bears fruit when the rains arrive on time…. little that it may be…..otherwise it perishes
Desert ur own when they need u most....shame on u
To whom a lot is given a lot is expected ahhhh but u know already what it says in the good book
U can’t walk the line of sacrifice

U know the path to my door, have no shame when u desire what little that I have
Yet u speak ill behind my back
What u have is ur own even if others paid for it….scorpion and his best friend the frog
All I ask is to be left in peace to find my own

a few words of reflection....

from my little spot on the great divide... feelings?


WELCOME HOME, FOREIGN NATIVE:
TO THE JUNGLE (The Gold Coast)

I have learned to do strange things in my wanderings
Now I come back to do stranger things yet
You don’t have to understand…a stranger in the land of my birth…
A foreign native…old is new, new is old…past and present are one
Aggregate dhis and dhat… no additives  no preservatives, sell by date not applicable…
All natural PURE & FRESH……………………………………. ITAL ROOTS
Addition and subtraction… multiplication and long division…
Deep memories yes… dreams and nightmares…I tried yet could not forget…
So eat your food, pray to your gods and let me be
Speak your language and we can learn to luv one another again

Yet I sing my songs still

You ask me how can a blind man write?
And I tell you that a man does not always need eyes to see
I come full circle to receive my blessings and take back my traditions
You hide behind the blessings of your gods while you condemn mine…
RRIP!!!! Really Really Important People….so you think
But you are only self important bastards…
Learning big words…but do you understand them?
Mirror mirror on the wall who knows the most irrelevant big words
Don Dadda Idi Amin… Mugabi… Muammar  Mubarak  Mobutu Bokassa? Who next?

Yet I sing my songs still

GI Joe…begat Col. Sanders…
AK 47s for Big Mac and Big guns
Coca leaves with imperial designs
Blue jeans and recycled toilet paper
Jesus Christ supastar  married in Canaan.. Vegas style
East west north and south pole all in one
Massive confusion…bamboo revolution
Fu Manchu Ho Chi Minh Pancho Villa Jojo Bojangles
Chinese firecrackers… Juju beans
Read your good book cos the end is near..
Do you believe what you read? your prayers flutter in your polluted winds
Your leaders can’t lead…the lies are catching up to them
$$$ sign means nuthin just a noose around your  neck
Yet I sing my songs still

I have learned to do strange things in my wanderings
Now I come back to do stranger things yet
You don’t have to understand…a stranger in the land of my birth…
A foreign native…old is new, new is old…past and present are one..

 Yet I sing my songs still
 
It’s a dinner party but when u show up u realize u are the forgotten guest
Excuses why u did not receive ur invite
There is no place setting with ur name on it…
Space has to be made by urself but
Nobody is willing to help for fear that u might take their place
Better yet u have to find space... what to do but make some room
Careful lest u become a victim…u are already the outsider looking in
Patience my friend but time does not stand still…all in it’s right season…
So what next?  do u stay for dinner or do u say to hell…as hell is for heroes!

Yet I sing my songs still