Monday, 24 June 2013

EKURASE


The night always young
peasants resuming from labor
Noise of children so real and loud
Igniting a chorus through every deafening silence
1Ekurase

Each day too young to die
Footprints denting sand dunes
All are busy, none will dare sleep
Every man at his best
Ekurase

Household sits around the illuminating fire
Listening to the sage as he unties wisdom knot
Gray hairs nods in agreement amidst the lads
And in a mellow mood they enjoy every word

Tell us legends which preceded our birth,
and why death has no cure, they seem to ask
But night has journeyed far and old folks are weary,
They wait for a fortnight

Ekurase!
Forever my love at first sight.

1Ekurase: Akan name for village



A CALL TO ORDER!


I choose to write what they will ignore.
What they will not write in their stack of sheets-
Those reports of how they manipulated the sphere.
And influenced the courts of justice.
Yes, I know, they'll pick with me a fight, For I shed light on our plights. Our rights to enjoy the taxes we work so hard to pay. Not to pay bribe again before we get our monthly pay.

Now, be alert and tell them not to pervert. We've seen all the fake certs they use- We are Africans, not jerrycans  Or T-rolls to be used and dumped.

Our schools shelf our knowledge  In papers they call thesis. Our labour sits as white elephant waiting rot, when it could bring redemption to our home.
These redeeming notes only sells 1abele na nketie Therefore, In sobriety I ask of our nation- Our leaders to take second thoughts To think or we sink.

1abele na nketie: roasted maize and groundnut sold in Ghana and served in brown papers or used newspapers.


First published at http://poetryfoundationghana.org/index.php/theme/social-poems/item/66-a-call-to-order


Friday, 14 June 2013

SWAYED BY RUTHLESS WINDS?

The wind blows over all;
     The fool and the wise,
             The rich and the wealthy,
                      The mighty and the not-so mighty.
                               So who can avert the wind's course except to position himself?
 
Copyright (C) 2013
Sharkmellon
 
 

Thursday, 6 June 2013

DO NOT, I PRAY YOU DO NOT!!


Do not let me in
If I stop by your wretched home
In search of shelter.

Do not serve me a glass of water
If I stop by your wretched home
To quench my thirst.

Do not spare me your time
If i stop by your wretched home
To greet you.

Do not, I pray you! do not
For I must reach the end of my journey
And it is not my wish to be your acquaintance or carry you along
Oh lazy cocoon, you can never be my bosom friend.

All Rights Reserved 
Copyright (C) September 2012

Tuesday, 4 June 2013

FIGHT NOT THE WIND O'GOOD FELLOW


www.artnectar.com


We fight our enemies over a grain yet
The greenery stare us in the face and
In silence we chant
‘We shall destroy you at the ripening of dawn,
Crackling of noon and rotting away of dusk’.

We drown our enemies over a drop yet
The vast waters flow seamlessly in our presence and
In silence we chant
‘We shall bury your strength in the heart 
Of this earth,
Of waves roaring and breeze twirling’.

We covet our enemies over a crumb yet
Our table is filled with meat and more meat and
In silence we chant
‘We shall starve your desires from the music of hope,
Illumination of their sun and the dance of progress’.

Alas, why fight our own?
Mimicking the jealousy of crabs;
Of selfish men
Of wolves in sheep’s clothing
So we prowl and stagger strenuously in strange shoes; in search of another dream
Forgetting that wind like death knows all, the grain and the green
The crumb and the fill, the drop and the stream
Blowing all into one chaff
Only to notice we have been naked while the real enemy mocked us akimbo
But
We
Have
Another
Chance
Today
To
Shun Hatred.

 ~~~Sharkmellon~~~

Copyright (C) 2013
4th June 2013



YUSUF AND ABIBA



(tickles...smiles...tickles)
.
.
.
.
.
You sparkle like the sun in its prime
and like the moon in full bloom
so stick with me like dust to earth, that
just like Romeo and Juliet
we remain, Yusuf and Abiba.

~~~Sharkmellon~~~

Copyright (C) 2013

Monday, 6 May 2013

Sharkmellon performs live

I was invited by Abena, a friend and sister to perform at her wedding in early 2012. The link is here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0x_ecs8S4Eg
It was a great honour and I am sharing the video with you.

You may book an appointment with me to do a special performance for you at your wedding or other your special events. It will be tailored to meet your need. You can contact me at sharkmellon@gmail.comand I will reply you immediately.

Tuesday, 9 April 2013

THE SUN AND THE MOON

The Sun stays awake while the Moon sleeps.

The Moon stays awake while the Sun sleeps.

If only we would in this manner live,

Being each other’s keeper; watching each other’s back,

The world will always see light, day or night.



Sharkmellon

(C) Copyright, 2013

Wednesday, 2 January 2013

THERE IS THIS MAN I KNOW


There is this man I know
Who once dined with kings but now begs at the entry
He crippled the legs of his Cause and
tainted the legacy of his forebears and
His descendants painfully suckle the breasts of his truncated dreams.

There is this man I know
Who once dined with kings but now begs at the entry
He removed the bridge after his crossing to one end and
destroyed the last wick of the lantern when the sun shone at full strength and
His armour was useless at the heart of night.

There is this man I know
Who once dined with kings but now begs at the entry
He lifted his voice against the prince of the palace and
defied the kings’ order and
His place among royals is no more.

There is this man I know
Who once dined with kings but now begs at the entry
He tasted from the sweet puddings of life and
hoarded the waste from the lowly and
His glory now hangs in the past.

There is this man I know
Who once dined with kings but now begs at the entry
He danced himself lame before the main dance began and
Thrust his future in the midriff to death and
His pride caught up and overtook him in the race of life.

Therefore,
My Lord!
My Lord!!
My Lord!!!
Save us from ourselves and the fangs of pride and complacency
That I rip not my labour in twain, with they like me.

Sharkmellon
(C) Copyright, Jan 2013

Monday, 3 December 2012

WHAT A PHENOMENON!! (STATE OF THE NATION ADDRESS)

Today I visited a couple who married this year. They are very good friends of mine and I had not paid them a visit since they tied the nuptial knot in August. I went in the company of Kwame and Vero who are also friends of the couple. At their place we helped ourselves to juice drinks, biscuits, chocolate cake and buttered bread plus a good dosage of laughter.


We engaged in a hearty chat about our families, friends, church, work, and the upcoming elections. We spent quite a good amount of time discussing the brow-raising chronicles of political parties going heaven and hell to snatch votes from every tom, dick and harry.

Damn!! Our favourite Scooby doo, champions’ league fixtures and African magic have been crowded out with campaign adverts of all forms and lengths. Can you imagine? An aspirant sits behind the cameras at Labone kanda somewhere, appears before my screen, talks and talks several minutes of the hour till my head aches. He ends by asking us to vote for him and his party. How I wished I could also ask him a question! 

Komla! Have you heard rumors of aspiring candidates distributing gifts all over the place just to win votes? Then I must suggest to you the country isn’t as broke as we are being made to believe.

See, I have come to the conclusion that if someone desires to control you, his first aim will be to capture and subject your thinking to his by telling you how miserable you are. When he’s done that, he can now hurt and loot you as much as he pleases, but remember "…to resist oppressors’ rule". Simple!

A chip in! I heard the story of a Danish student who came to Ghana some few years back to conduct a research towards her Master’s degree thesis. Her topic was something about Democracy and Elections in Africa.

During her interviews, she was told that in election years, political parties were their best and that they gave gifts to party supporters and floating voters in order to win their thumbprints on the d-day. She was shocked to learn that such gifts included bags of rice, tubers of yam, garri and shito, cash for pami (palmwine) and deodorant spray among others.

About a month after returning to Denmark, rumour started flying all over the place that she had no option but to manufacture her own set of findings for submission. (lol) The information she gathered here I believe was too difficult to swallow.
A close friend of hers confirmed the story but emphasized that the danish fellow later rescind her decision not to submit the original findings about tubers of yam for votes blah blah blah.

Back to the point, this year arguably has been the most dramatic to say the least. I dare say without a shred of doubt that 2012 would comfortably make the shortlist of top five worst years in the country’s history books beginning with the Woyome Brouhaha as the lead catalyst.
On 2nd June, we are met with this breathstopping news: ‘Cargo plane hits bus in Ghana airport crash’ was how BBC captioned it. ‘Airplane crashes around 37 military hospital, trotro hit, 11 die instantly, several injured”, others declared.  

Simultaneously another airplane in neighbouring nigeria crashes into a skyscraper leaving all passengers dead. Both news indeed broke the nation and Ghana wept. You could almost reach out your hand and touch the pain that swept the country. My friend and former coursemate Evans tabariyeng aka Popo was one of the 11. May his soul rest in peace!. We had barely recovered from the shock when the first man of the land, having battled with an ailment passed on. The brouhaha surrounding his death leaves much to be desired, Surprised? Forgot he died many times before his death? Forgot the reasons attributed to his demise were as much as the people who spoke about it? Rest in Peace your Excellency late John Evans Atta Mills. The next day H.E John Mahama was sworn-in to step into in his boss’ shoes. Law and constitution? Yes.

It wasn’t long after returning from the graveyard than we had to return to it again to bury 18 men and women who lost their lives when the Melcom Achimota building collapsed. Workers of ‘where good things happen fame’ were trapped under concrete slabs as young men and women rushed to the scene to salvage our brothers and sisters. The salvation campaign lasted 4 days and nights so some survived. Komla, let’s snap our fingers for the Israeli government who sent in almost 24hours an 8-man team with a dog onboard a flight straight across the oceans to come help the rescue mission. NADMO is indeed grateful.

Komla, to think that  building came down flat as if it stood on no foundation still baffles me, the last time I saw such a spectacle was in a movie. My goodness!! This tragedy caught international attention and I am convinced it should be the first of its kind the world over. Just this november, His Excellency Aliu Mahama the former vice president under Mr. John Agyekum Kuffour having battled a heart disease for a while finally gives up the ghost. Remember he was predicted to have died 3 days earlier? At this point, our BP’s rose and set to explode, my sincere condolence to his dear family. Our beloved country Ghana was going through turbulent times, on the back of elections perching in the corner i suppose on one leg, or two legs?

From nowhere Mr. Ayariga steps in legendarily to curtail the gloom by sending us into days of uncontrollable laughter and fun. As one of 7 presidential aspirants seeking the highest office of the land, he was obliged to participate in the Institute of Economic Affairs Presidential Debate at Tamale, one of two to be held before eligible voters went to the poll.

To our shock, Mr. Ayariga singlehandedly stole the night, bombarding 25million Ghanaians, the diaspora and online community with his own set of English grammar and conjured expressions. Making a mess of his subject-verb agreement, we suffered severe ear damages on both occasions.
Komla, ghanaians are becoming just as complicated as EPL fans. See, individuals and groups threatened to boycott the second IEA debate if Ayariga was not attending.

He had in the morning informed Joy fm radio station that he had caught a severe cold and would therefore not attend the debate to be held at the Accra International Conference Centre. Three hours later, he changed his mind, confirming his participation and the dulled ghanaian social media sprang to life again.See, most people thought he was a joke ever thinking of becoming the president of this country and suggested he considered a career in stand-up comedy. Well? What do you think?

‘Operation feed yourself’, ‘we don’t have oil, they have sold the oil’! ‘Ayarigarism! Ayaricough!’ ‘We will encourage their salaries!’ ‘My father my brother and my brother!’ ‘We will employ soil scientists! Agrikalcha!’ he declared. Mr. Ayariga’s popularity has shot up far more than the enemies he made overnight in the People’s National Congress (PNC). Some Executive members have since called for his head ahead of the Presidential Polls claiming he was out-of-touch on issues and that he brought upon the party irreparable damage. Mr. Ayariga seems unperturbed, a cause to worry.

I thought presidential hopeful Hassan Ayariga would remain tightlipped after the second debate in which many say he literally coughed Nana Akufo Addo out of his submissions; he went a step further during the Otumfuo-IDEG Kumasi Peace Declaration. Ayariga halted his campaign and got himself busy with preparing his speech. When it was his turn to speak, he took to the stage, acknowledged the teeming cheering crowds, defined Ayarigate as the latest word in the dictionary to be ‘someone who makes a whole nation laugh, smile and JOY’. So at that, Otumfuo, Rawlings and Kuffour smiled. See, I almost agreed to folks’ views sooner than i envisaged that the PNC flagbearer will consider a change of career, it would be stage or showbiz.

My friend, tension is high between ruling and opposition parties, scores of propaganda flying at each other, Issuance of Press Statements and counter Press Statements, Pockets of violence at Kyebi and Ashtown, Nana Akufo Addo and John Mahama rounding up their campaigns. Mr. Sakara and Papa Ndoum are also on the ground taking it slowly but surely. Komla, as it stands, the best our media houses can do to minimize the tension is to play sound bites of Mr. Ayariga’s IEA speeches. I bet it will do more good to the vain peace blabbering all over the place, which is forgotten as soon as it’s uttered.

The year has indeed been replete with bad news but we should be happy that we can still laugh together as a people despite our political differences, thanks to Ayarigate Worldwide. My final word, good luck to all aspirants. God bless our homeland Ghana and make our nation great and strong. Let’s meet at the Jubilee house come January 7, 2013 in one piece and not in pieces.

3rd December, 2012 (Copyright Protected)
Shakiru Akinyemi
(Sharkmellon)




Title Credit: Nana Kofi Owusu (Above)
Photo taken by: Rhymepixels 

Sunday, 11 November 2012

SAIL TO SALE
























Nii. you do not see my tears whenever they drop
You ask where I got this scar from and
I always knew!
One bright morning, you will find an answer that will outshine
The dark evil days when daybreak seemed much more than a miracle
Now I know I cannot cover this wound, a scar
Or can any man survive without breadth? No.

Nii, today, I will reveal the secret of yesterday
Of that day when we and them at bay,
When our skin eaten by disease turned white and red,
In a wooden Ark unlike that of legendary Noah, death stared us in the face.
It meant nothing!
Negroes flung into the jaws of the ocean, we saw no more,
Only the spatter of their bodies rumbled by the raging waves we heard.


Only in our memories your fathers remain, this picture remains
As they sailed our heroes(us) for sale, of the tribe of Da-Nii.

Son, yesterday is history
Today, it’s a story-
The story of a living picture of a dead people.

Sharkmellon 2012
Performed on the POETS Page in contest with Daniel Kojo Appiah and Ganyobi Nii Sackey on the 4th February, 2012

Saturday, 18 August 2012

ALEWA V


P.O. Box 1904
Sharkmellon Avenue
Creativity Street
Accra-Ghana
18th August, 2012

TO:
THE PEOPLE OF GHANA
W/A-AFRICA


Dear Sir/Madam,

SPECIAL INVITATION TO-
 THE PRESTIGIOUS ALEWA SHOW AT THE SyTRIS BOOKSHOP, OSU-ACCRA
(Powered by: PEOPLE OF EQUAL THOUGHTS AND SPIRITS)

Let me use this opportunity to invite you to the Fifth Edition of Alewa which comes off right here in Accra at the Sytris Bookshop inside the Mark Cofie Building on SATURDAY the 15TH SEPTEMBER, 2012. Renowned Poets will treat you to riveting and sizzling Poems with Music on LOVE. 

You will be inspired to love again and by love, you will rise to the top. Indeed, it is not enough to wish and hope. Be bold. Take that giant leap and make society a better place to live in.

Need I say Love is a universal language despite one's socio-political, ethnic or religious background.

I have taken these few minutes off my busy schedules to inform and invite you and I hope you take advantage of this. Remember. Do not push till morrow what you should do today for 'TOMORROW NEVER COMES'



Signed
Sharkmellon
[Poet~Author~Actor~Director~Film Producer]
'the nation that forgets it writers shall soon be forgotten'


Cc:
H.E President John Dramani Mahama, President of the Republic of Ghana
H.E Vice President Paa Kwesi Amissah Arthur
Honourable Speaker of Parliament
Honourable Members of Parliament
Honourable Members of the Judiciary
Honourable Ministers of State
Minister of Education, Ghana
Director, Ghana Education Service
Chairman, National Youth Council, Ghana
Minister of Youths and Sports, Ghana
Chairman, Ghana Association of Writers
Chairman, Pan African Writers Association
Members, People of Equal Thoughts and Spirits
Members, Poetry Foundation Ghana
Members, Ehalakasa
Members, Mode Concept
Members, mZone
Members, Mental Pictures
Members, Sharkmellon Productions
GTV
ETV
Metro TV
Yfm Ghana
Choice FM
Peace FM
OK FM
Corporate Organisations
All protocols observed




MY SONS ARE NOT

Drums don’t beat anymore
The once noisy night has gone dumb
so our hearts
The town is as quiet as a graveyard, even
Jimmy Jimmy the drunkard has gone to sleep

Where is the youth leader? Nobody knows
Has he travelled to visit his in-laws? No
Has he gone to see his concubine? No
Has he gone in search of our enemies? No
 So where is he? Where is she? Nobody knows

Fathers cannot find their sons, and mothers their daughters
There is no one to go and bring firewood
They have gone to the city, says Dzifa the village gossip
Who will go in search of our men and tell them of our dying farms?
Who will leave his plantation to go in search of our missing sons?

So mothers sit to eat
They eat the bread of sorrow in tears
Humming songs in limbo
They know all is not well
The men don’t know what to do

Fireside stories no more drips from the lips of the aged
Fireside stories today sit in history books’ corolla
The dusty market square is beseck with silence at night
No music is heard, no one is there to sing and dance
The place of the chief linguist is vacant and exalted with dust
No one will take his place; No one is there to take his place!
Elders know all is not well, they sing the same chorus
Where is my son? Where is my daughter?
Fathers cannot find their sons, and mothers their daughters
There is no one to go and bring firewood
They have gone to the city, says Dzifa the village gossip
Who will go in search of our men and tell them of our dying farms?
Who will leave his plantation to go in search of our missing sons?

So mothers sit to eat
They eat the bread of sorrow in tears
Humming songs in limbo
They know all is not well
The men don’t know what to do

Fireside stories no more drips from the lips of the aged
Fireside stories today sit in history books’ corolla
The dusty market square is beseck with silence at night
No music is heard, no one is there to sing and dance
The place of the chief linguist is vacant and exalted with dust
No one will take his place; No one is there to take his place!
Elders know all is not well, they sing the same chorus
Where is my son? Where is my daughter?


Sharkmellon (C) 2012
All Rights Reserved