THAT FOUR LETTERED WORD
In a world filled with strife and rife
That four lettered word seems like a mirage
In world devoid of solace and grace
The word looks like a myth
In a world ridden with grief and reef
The word is nothing but a jinx
That word, that word that lightens the dark walls of a sinners heart
That word, that word
That brightens the dawn as it breaks into day
That word, that word
That makes my heart somersault again and again
That word of jubilation That word of celebration
That word of adoration
That four lettered word seems like a mirage
In world devoid of solace and grace
The word looks like a myth
In a world ridden with grief and reef
The word is nothing but a jinx
That word, that word that lightens the dark walls of a sinners heart
That word, that word
That brightens the dawn as it breaks into day
That word, that word
That makes my heart somersault again and again
That word of jubilation That word of celebration
That word of adoration
In a life filled with ashes and patches
The word is a blatant lie
In a life devoid of beauty and duty
The word is unattainable
In a life mesmerized by cruelty and disloyalty
The word remains a ruse
That word, that word
That made me shed a million tears
That word, that word That pierced my heart and broke it into two
That word, that word
That made me forsake all and sundry That word of abolishment
That word of astonishment
That word of accomplishment
The word is a blatant lie
In a life devoid of beauty and duty
The word is unattainable
In a life mesmerized by cruelty and disloyalty
The word remains a ruse
That word, that word
That made me shed a million tears
That word, that word That pierced my heart and broke it into two
That word, that word
That made me forsake all and sundry That word of abolishment
That word of astonishment
That word of accomplishment
That four lettered word
That gladdens our hearts and binds our souls
Those letters that cements our bond
and creates our world of illusion
That inscription that signs our life document for aeons
and lengthens our span
Those few letters which controls our psyche here and hereafter,
expanding to the world beyond
The word that has left a question
in the thesis of many
Love, love, love
That four lettered word!
That gladdens our hearts and binds our souls
Those letters that cements our bond
and creates our world of illusion
That inscription that signs our life document for aeons
and lengthens our span
Those few letters which controls our psyche here and hereafter,
expanding to the world beyond
The word that has left a question
in the thesis of many
Love, love, love
That four lettered word!
Ivvy Isabella Anito is a Niger Deltan Poet, Art enthusiast and Arts
dealer. She is the Founder of Isabellaivvy Ventures, an enterprise that
promotes the paintings, pottery and sculpture of young artists. She is
very passionate about music and she manages the UnitedAbbysinia Band, a
fusion of Ghanaian and Cameroonian Artistes. She is a graduate of
Ambrose Alli University and holds a Masters Degree from Delta State
University. She lives in Lagos, Nigeria.
SOULFUL REINCARNATION: A POETIC CONVERSATION
Kofi:
Save me from this shame.
This shame of raking down the shrine.
Save my feet from licking dust, O' Goddess.
How vast has my soul sketch.
How dreadful the canoe keeps skipping waves.
Endure salt my son!
Endure and never wait on the basket of tears..
I have seen darkness outshine light.
And when rains sprinkle blood and pebbles, does it not rewrite our stories in pages of unseen?
My past is a deeply written mirrors of reflection,
The present, a newly sprouted mushroom under dews..
Tell them, Ato Kwamena, son of the oldest tiger hunter.
Tell the owls of the night,
Whisper to the sea that belts beneath ducts of ancestors;
That the River now eats the sea..
When tears dry behind River banks.
And folktales vaporize into thinly vanquishing shadows,
Shall our tears not bear witnesses of our forebears?
Come home. Come back.
Come through the epoch of rememberance.
For the River steals the beauty of the sea..
Abeiku:
All fingers are the elements of the soul.
The soul is the fruit of the heart.
The heart is the seed of divination.
Is the heart no music when the artist fulfils the demands of Gods in the sand?
I don't know who wasn't right.
I don't know who was wrong.
The hunter has returned home empty-handed; his sack thirsting of emptiness...
Was it his fears that drove the antelope away?
Was it his poisoned blood that fanned his gunpowder into the smokeless nightly garment of the forest?
That I don't know. That I can't foretell;
For I am only a lip of the ancestral feel..
Nana Arhin Tsiwah is a disciple of Africanism Consciousness, elements of Akanism. Tsiwah, a cultural ideologist and linguist- performist (Awensemist) of Mfante-Akan Ancestry writes from Cape Coast, Ghana. He is the Chief-Linguist in the Africanism Poetry Movement, THE VILLAGE THINKERS, where the drums of the ancestors and ancestresses make their spiritual fortifications of ancient words abound in the oracle of poetry.
