Say It!

Lord, aren't you tired? I ask not because I judge, Lord I ask because of them, I am a part I sin over and over, repeatedly And now I'm losing my conscience. I know that I do wrong, yet I go ahead and do it anyway Because I know of Your grace. After first I felt remorseful, Now even that is gone So is Your presence. The prayer is routine and meaningless, said because I know what I have done And not because I regret Lord, aren't you tired? I forget sometimes that I'm made in Your image This means You feel, too, the pain and the hurt and the jealousy and the fear and all the rest like I do when others hurt me. Please, Lord don't be tired Because the day You tire is the day we die. I want to surrender, I really do Because the alternative, I do not wish to think about So then Lord, since I need You to please You, to love You, to live for you, to...,to...,to... I give to you my heart, my mind, my body, my soul, my breath... I don't know how we...

It was about 7.30 a.m  and I was cruising down the street that passes in front of Accra Breweries and leading to Adabraka with my dad, I looked at everything and all my eyes could see. We were stopped by the one-legged triple-eyed green man and on the pedestrian walk I spotted a girl, about thirteen, standing staring wide-eyed at something when she should have been crossing the road. So I turned to the other side to see what caught her attention and mine was caught too. Whether it was fortunate or not I cannot tell, but I turned just in time to see a motorist who had apparently been grabbed by a traffic policemen slip the officer something. Now, I didn't see what it was but I know it definitely wasn't the keys to his motorcycle. I was still staring  and wondering if my thoughts were right when the one-legged triple eye made us go. If what I'm thinking is right then this police man has indeed started the day well. So the girl, I'm sure, waited for the next red light. ...

So I haven't posted anything lately but I assure you it isn't from laziness. I'm having a very bad case of writers' block. I can't write anything and when I do start, I can't finish. Believe me, I have tried  cos I hate not being able to write. I think I lack inspiration. Could any of you sweethearts help? All I need is someone(or something) to give me a push. In the meantime though, I'll leave you with this poem. The guys, please take it easy with me when you're done reading. Lol .  Please, enjoy, comment, share and help me get started again! It's another Saturday and he stood me up again I lock the door behind me and fall my bed The tears effortlessly running down my face, again My head hurts, but not as much as my heart I don't even know why I'm crying; he isn't mine. He won't ever be; at least not entirely All I get are stolen kisses and quickies and excuses and apologies that come with presents All I do is sit and w...

So I lay down and it's you that's on my mind You and what we had, shared You touching me, holding me... As I lay on your chest the first time, your arm around me All I can think of is what just happened What just happened? You just happened We just happened You, on me, in me, around me, filling me, over and over In more ways than one All at once A memory imprinted in my mind forever Did I ever mention I love the way you say my name when you-oh! Can't tell nobody that Your lazy smile when you wake up the morning after, that kills me And you tell me how beautiful I look from sleep, that makes me melt Fresh in my mind like today It's only for a short while; I know that, yes The way you make me feel makes me think it is worth it Whispers in my ears as clothes come off Whispers that get me shivering with excitement of the things you're gonna do to me.... Just then your hands begin to move over my back I look up to meet that scintillating early morn...

As much as there are enough reasons for us not to be too happy about our nation, there are ‘lovables’ as well. First of all let me say that we do not even need a reason to love our country; the mere fact that we are born Ghanaians should make us proud. Don’t we feel proud when we hear about Ghanaians doing great things both at home and abroad? When we see people carry our flag or wear our colors in other countries, it makes us glad that some of us out there are being true to our homeland. When we see our African prints, especially the Ashantis’ kente and the Northerner’s smock being worn by outsiders, we are proud to say that it is from our country. Similarly, there are some actions of ours that i think are so uniquely Ghanaian that they never cease to remind me that I’m in Ghana. Most people are of the perception that Ghanaians are hospitable. It is therefore no surprise if while sitting next to someone in a bus, the person invites you to whatever ...

The Lights... Please turn out the lights Give me back the night I don't wanna see day The lights... A few more moments of sanity Blot out the truth of reality Fool me into believing the lie that everything is alright Solitude isn't always lonely Solitude is peace That's what the night gives; Peace. Peace that is taken away with the coming of day Why else do we sleep at night? Oh, please, for a few moments only  Give me back the night Help me believe the lie Please turn out the lights.

Apathy has always been and is still an attitude that Ghanaians have cultivated for themselves (ourselves, I should say) and are reaping the fruits which is contributing to the development of our dear nation. We are almost blinded about a lot of things that go on around us except for politics (exceptions should pardon me). When we do show concern, for most of us all we do is to talk about it and it ends there. I say ‘we’ because I am no different, for I am in the process of doing same through writing. At least, talk is a step forward. There is something that as a concerned citizen, I am showing my concern the best way I know how. Indeed, it hurts to discover that whilst some people are honestly searching for jobs that would enable them function well to the best of their ability others are just comfortable to be just employed and do nothing except receive pay. There is man who lives in my neighborhood whom I shall call Mr. Coffie. Mr. Coffie is newly married but unfortunatel...