On wings I see a bleeding bird,
with a message on beak–
lips so dried of what to say,
as masses unmasked to the past and present.

The cock crowing on hut tops,
tiptoeing to let heavy ears unheard–
the pride of the past locked in a chop-box,
as fermentation of our identity ignored.

Breatheless as generations might be,
there is a time where insanity rips HISTORY apart——
tainting pictures of fortuitous memories,
all is in a change except this craft.

As a child left alone by the river of POETRY,
drinking to tears of a full cup of lonesome—
my cries bounces on the walls of society,
nearing me to the graveyard of change.

An antelope looks beyond his pleasure on leaves,
eating and eating to alerted ears–
maybe a prey of our time lies in shadows,
venting in high spirits to conceal our worth.

The pride of our GREATS—
the memories of their STRUGGLES—
flashbacks of their PAINS—
their crowned VICTORIES—

If we could paint well this art with true ‘AFRICAN HEARTS’,
shall we unravel unto our generations, 
and generations to come in radiant shades;
what truly lies beneath and beyond
this beautiful art I seek to preach of
built in galaxies of

The Village Thinker © 2014
     ‘Nana Arhin Tsiwah’


is a new reflective art of a permutation reckoning of AFRICAN HISTORY into the deific philosophy of POETRY into a much more educative, well informed and consciously inspired ideals unto today’s generation of AFRICANS and tomorrow’s generation of our land of birth (AFRICA).
It is also a call to save AFRICA HISTORY from dwindling beyond the eyes of extinction and to better make it more appealing to the soul of the readership.


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