Skip to main content

THE 4TH SECRET OF J.J

I WAS TOLD JUNE 4TH WAS A NATIONAL DISASTER,
ONLY TO GROW AND REALIZE HE IS HUMAN RATHER,
A SELFLESS HOUSE CLEANER.

Had I the chance to enforce my stands,
I'd dance till everyone understands,
And would proclaim a period of enlightenment,
That our historians failed to document;
The hidden secret of Parliament,
Which hid from us the sacred monument,
That birthed the bouncy baby of 4th June,
Who took blame and a bitter fortune,
And vaccinated the castle for us all to be immune.
Yet, does immunity connote dancing to every tune?

What is the need for a "demo" with no one to see?
Is there a weed at all if all plants are useful by Mr Bee?
An answer is our only youthful plea,
And further expiations if need be,
Should we hail our democracy at sea?
Since the contractor doesn't trust his carnal sense of judgement,
He uses the Spirit Level in ensuring accurate alignment.
But the mason who fails to employ quality material,
Only meets clients with the pocket of an actuarial.

Ghana, our beloved country is free forever!
Only stays with those who still remember,
And not those who disregard the latter.
Since then, have we grown any stronger?
Because they believe in their doubts,
Always questioning our Freedom shouts,
Enviously finger pointing those who shed blood,
Which is now the palmy they rather flood.

Our education is free forever!
Our resources are ours together,
Our land is our settlement eternal,
Our jobs are abundant perennial.
Many more proclamations I call euphemistic,
With nothing tangible nor dreams futuristic,
Waiting to take disasters keenly opportunistic,
And making campaigns out of a common pandemic,
With names suggesting to be Patriotic,
Others accolade themselves as Democratic,
Bombarding us with manifestos in our premises,
And decorating our streets with poetic promises.

It's of no use changing names without changing hearts.
Are elections necessary if parties are armed with darts?
With politicians raiding our media with armour carts,
Citizens queue up for kenkey and waakye as well as ID cards,
No more Media freedom in our own orchards.

I see an upsurge in mature minds,
Different from the revolutionary kinds.
But mustn't we foster tranquillity as this year rescinds?
In you did Nkrumah and June 4th confide,
And you have election 2020 to decide,
Whatever choice we make, in Ghana we all reside.

Comments

Post a Comment

visit next time for more

Popular posts from this blog

UnWILLING to Wail

To them all who fail to fall, The frail who don’t wail, Who smile to sad e-mails, Just because they’re males. I know a man who loves One that eats with gloves Starving just to feed his own Yes, everyone at home he owes. I know a strong man! Not for his muscles and biceps But for always saying “I can” Without knowing the precepts. Everyone looks up to him But when he looks up Even the lights onto him dim And doors begin to shut. I know this boy now old; Doing just as he was told “Men don’t cry so be bold” He swallowed his pains And bound all emotions chains. He must in sadness give out bliss? In darkness must he illuminate In drought he was the waterfall  When the rains came, he was last to drink. He sleeps at dawn and awakens same Goes insane to make his family sane He must be frugal and yet extravagant  In all, he dares not say I can’t.  No body cares he gets the courage. Yet if death defeats him in marriage, They awake early in the morning  Not for lack of sleep du...
2 comments
Read more

YOUR own PEN

Something mostly divine, Sometimes, it's ours to define. Unlike the plant called Vine, Destiny seldom has pine. And it is our duty to prune and refine. From the feet till we see the spine. It may be a good omen, To which we shout Amen. It might have a fault to mend or dirt to filter, Which might make us think that God did falter. But we can write our own destiny. Yes, we always do. Remember that road you used to the mill, The particular person you talked to, Has it not been your own will? When you wanted to learn, Even when in prayer you did yearn, You took that training seriously, And you passed out successfully, That was your own destiny. That was your pen on paper. When you write, no one can alter. I am the secretary of the God you don't know. Now wait while I print yours out to show. Written down by you as white as snow.
Post a Comment
Read more

DREAMSCAPE

An experience of a walking life; Or thoughts of the day in motion at night, Flowing peacefully in spirit like a kite. Awaiting an Estimated Time of Arrival, In your heart’s own built terminal. You woke up from the thunderous snore, Just to realize you were in a slumber. But you vividly remember; The realities you did encounter, And how beautiful it was that you saw. So you shared your story in the morning, While you were still yawning. Yes you shared; With people of like-mindedness. And boom! you are a hit; A one time wander, Now a lifetime wonder, With whom everyone wants to sit, But your dreams, don’t let them plunder. You are now a champion, So go ahead my companion. Go ahead with that plan; Store as many as you can, If it can’t be frozen, just get it canned.
Post a Comment
Read more