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!

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