MORAL VIRUS
Evil has been coated with good
A long miss calls for hug
Yet becomes a daily route like a meal
Dating is a decoration of life
The beauty of a youthful sight
Sex is a plight of recreation
A means for fun
The pleasure of evil makes life worth living

Evil has been redefined as normal
A dangerous virus
Neither does it transmit through
the blood nor by air borne
A transmission through sight
The virus of normalcy

A feel in the emotions
The desire to be part
Jealous of evil
The early symptoms

BURNT HEART
Self hatred for failure
The fear of losing
Set the heart on fire
Internalizing the feel yet unborn
Intensifies the heat
Pain and fear scorches
More than a fiery

The courage of a man
Lies in the braveness of his heart
Courage is of man in war
Courage is of man for the claim of his rights
Courage is of man for freedom
But that courage is burnt before an able-bodied maiden

A face to face talk
When her rolling balls flirt in my eyes
The feel was felt
The language was obvious
Her presence at gatherings took away attention
The very thing I become

The writer.................!
The writer can use anything pen and paper
The writer writes anything meaningful to him alone
The writer writes what is on his mind not yours
His aim is to get your interest but not to win your love
He upgrades himself with your rating to correct himself
But not because he bothered that much of how low you think he is

But all writers are not the same. They write different things, They think different. They see different. They will choose to understand but don't agree(stand to be corrected).

Once we trod across abandoned plains
Where dangers, disquite and fears often
triggered;

Renlentless efforts and attempts
We yeilded in pursuit of streaming
shadows
Wherein were tied our gleaming dreams.

Gross despair, darkness , diffidence
seemed to hide within the viels
of our hopes
Suddenly some rising currents beyond
us
Tried to squash and dash into pieces
The immuned fabrics of our positive
purpose

Even those strong winds injecting
discouragement into the receptive
Pores of our bodies' able skin
did so
With sinister motive to lead us

A CRY OF DISSATISFACTION
Poverty itself has dried up the lips of the poor
Fear is creeping it"s way into the very bone of the rich
Leaders are crowned with corruption
Subjects are drowned by their tears
Life is rough,survival is tough

Peace! where are you?
Security! out of your hidden place!
Comfort! the children need you
Joy has been consistently inconsistent
The land is vexed
Mute it keeps
Solution comes from nowhere

Affluence influences the rich
The poor searches for it"s hidden place
Leaders are drunk by it"s influence

INNOCENT CHILDREN IN A GUILTY WORLD
Judgment has been executed
Akonoba has been sentenced to life
Voice is screaming
Tears are dropping
But lovers are cheering
Their smiles are beaming

You fear to die?
Sad to live,Akonoba triggers
For the land to live on
a land of curses

Brother Kofi Kuma was here yesterday
Today with peers on the street struggling to stay
The street being wet by their sweat
Their footprints blanket the road side
The porter"s tray their tool of work
Hunger and violence show mercy
by their frequent visit

Just yesterday

Time has approached
Hastened on us-
Time has come.

Yes it’s time for us
Citizens of Ghana
To stand fast together
Yet with a very appropriate manner,
Muster courage, gather real confidence
Lift the flag of Ghana so high
As we never did before.

Let’s go to the polls
December 7 speedily unfolds
The day and time
For all and sundry
Within our well-known boundary
To listen to the bell
While it tolls:

Young and old
Above year 18
All in rows
To cast their votes,
To grant their cherished dreams
A chance.

It’s the chance of electing
A unique leader
The next to govern

Evelyn, as she was affectionately called, stretched herself crosswise on the armchair. Her legs lay gently on one side of the piece furniture as she found herself amid a mild reflection on some recent national events which were of great interest to her.

A lasting quite was in the atmosphere there. Dull music could be heard too from the background. Evelyn’s level of concentration at this material moment would not grant her the freedom to listen to a somewhat different rudiment of music.

i
HEAD OF THY CHURCH TRIUMPHANT

You left Heaven,Your excellent Abode above.
You took upon Yourself the bodily garments of mortal man,
Came down into this world, this earth
Bereft of pure joy and eternal sweet communion.
You left the precious gel,the blissful ointment,
The long-lasting fragrance which spontaneously
Exudes around Your Father's glorious Throne.

When Your arrival here was duly announced
By Your birth, wicked and cruel men
Your death sought to establish
Fickle-minded,feeble-hearted coys
With evil-intent, devil-portent ploys
Your prime agenda and mission tried

I long to see you, to infuse you with joy
Speak bubbling words to soothe
Your aching heart
Hold you tightly in my loving arms
Place lasting kisses on your very soft,
Revered lips
As an honest man does to a newly-found
young woman
Of whom his heart craves so much after

For you’re exceptional today,
Spectacular among the women of your clime
You’re a wealthy Queen indeed
You’re vivid in speech
And would love to teach
All young ones, and all people within your reach
The precious traditions and values
Of all great times and seasons
Sweeter than cream and many a peach

If you are fortunate enough to be able to read at least the heading of this article,consider yourself as one of the few people in the world who can read,write and make meaning out of what they read or write. Your luck is by far bigger if you happen to be an African reader. Count yourself as part of the geniuses.

Long before Entrepreneurship and MBA students got their certificates from the Harvard Business School and the like,the sons of black men down here in Africa were exhibiting rare entrepreneurship through their natural instincts for survival and for comfort.

While we were young we believed
Every falsehood
Accepted every idea
Hissed for joy at the sounds
Of the very words we learnt from our friends.

We took to pubs, followed theirs footfalls
To the beach, sat at lurid ease in front of them
Sometimes we went to the complete extent
Of drinking water with the backs of our bare hands
As we got near the ponds

Yet when we reached the edge of our primes
They never let go of their gross ignorance
Never forsook their horrible delusion

They feigned to us, yes, they deceived us
And told us they knew of the truth

Reading brought me in touch with this site. I think it kept me informed and way ahead of my peers in discussions and makes me an enviable character when it comes to current affairs.It keeps my vocabulary really loaded and expansive. As a matter of fact i would like to extend this dicussion beyond this horizon and ask orther opinions on the subject.

When I first met you I was elated
Filled with much awe
I dreamed of the presently elapsed years
Of great happiness and rich excitement

I watched the birds as they flew past
And squeaked
My naked eyes were fixated
On their sudden movement and their return

Never did I strew my thoughts on the land
Upon which I stood
The charms I could trace on your face
The broad smiles you gave
Lowered the thick tall, solid brick walls
Of my heart

My passions lighted
My yearnings glittered
And the taste of purely refined soft-drinks
I sipped through my throat

I see vistas of your smiles,
pleasant expressions on your face
Each passing hour
and as this day closes
I’m so much flabbergasted,
at loss for words
Thinking of what lies
ahead for me
or what stands overly tall
in the paths before me.

Tell me, tell me my beloved
Dad
What it is that stands overly tall
in the paths before me
or what lies ahead for me
beyond these walls….

a thick brewing constancy or silky
frail ecstasy
of filial love?

He brought his hands forward
and requested for mine
I stretched my right arm
and gave him my hand
He shook me firmly

http://new.music.yahoo.com/videos/--19621086 or www.rhomantikk@yahoo.co.uk