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Poetry

Poetry

WHEN TO DIE

If we had the power to predict our death

To tell at what time to breathe our last breath

Then It should be at the point when we are still strong

And not when all things are going wrong

It should be at the stance of having enough wealth instead

For your offsprings and lineage to inherit in your sted

Not when the family struggles for their daily bread

For your carcass to be more of a curse than a blessing instead.

If we had the power to predict when to die

I will assume it should be a period of food health

And not when weak and broken down to earth

No matter a person’s colour, race or gender

Everyone practically wants to live forever

So to ask when to die

Is actually a question without an answer

Like Ef-pac everyone wants his or her pain to be blown away

Forgetting death is the only way

Yet in the face of death;

Pleading for life becomes the sacred agenda

When to die , I believe should not be through accidents and disasters.

Leaving the family to street life

Filled with immense sweet strive

When to die should be a point of being free and not bond

Not when sickness has weaken us at the mercy of the strong

It should be at the point when everything seem to be right

And you have inner peace everyday and night

It should be the time when your faith in your savior is still alive

So that even when you die you may be brought back to life

For when to die should be when you have been called to rest by God

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Poetry

Press On

Zoom to your focus

Focus on your zoomed

Take a clear shot

Missing no chance at all

Widen up your aperture

Allow more or less light before you capture

Maybe it may be reflections

So rapture your obstacles

Put on a new lens

And press on to a perfect picture

And if it appears blurry

Try another shot

Give it the right timing

Never leave it hanging

Always keep it going

Never freak out

Even if it’s that scary

Like the Halloween night

We ignore all monster looks and our own fright

And press on with fun that intense

So intense to brighten every dark side

Just press on the light

The light to open up yourself

To your hidden dreams and abilities

Though life has several joints and pauses

And sets failures in our daily clauses

Yet like a vessel on a stormy sea

We still sail through even what we don’t see

Though the tides do rise

Yet we don’t give up the prize

We go through the hard-way

For there’s no easy way

And in the strive, don’t stop halfway

Just keep pushing through everyday

Press on

What others may seem impossible

And many will think is not feasible

But that’s your dream to live

And not theirs to claim

So no matter what others may say

Just press on I say.

From any position you may.

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AdultApathyDeathInspirationalLovePoetry

UNCLAIMED LOVE by AL Latif Kambo-Naa

The nectar that flinks on me
And never goes away
Crossing path was the only thing needed
At that winding staircase of uncertainty
With an eye glued to the blue skies
Mapping out glory days of hope

The nectar that flinks on me
And never goes away
To honeysuckle rim days
Bearing holes of comfort
And ceasing to blaze in their own tide
Yet snoozing through gloomy hours of sleep.

The nectar that flinks on me
And never goes away
On the light shone through the skiing cloud
In Days of scrawling garage
of high mounds of love,
Rooting, roaring and rising
above sinking ship of sadness.

The nectar that flinks on me
And never goes away
By tongue breaker who appears insight
No amount of therapy could restore a dented heart,
thoroughly bred in your own imagination

The nectar that flinks on me
And never goes away
Where love treks through the ranks of understanding,
But never settled in any moment of time,
shaking the very foundation of affection.

The nectar that flinks on me
And never goes away
To a bountiful heart in a greener garden
Searching Seacoast for smiles
Languishing in the wrong worded lips
Of a bee that painfully stinks the mind
Like its honeysuckle.

By: AL Latif Kambo-Naa

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PoetrySpiritual

THE BIG EYE

He that seeth beyond the eyes of mere mortals

From East, North, West to South his eyes perceives

From the peak of the mountains above to the valleys beneath; his eyes miss naught

From the deepest of the seas to the apex of the lands he perceiveth all

He seeth you

He seeth me

He seeth your trials and tribulations

He seeth your distress and predicament

He seeth those teary eyes

Yea the tears from that weary body

And he saith to you, remember ye that he seeth

Give up not, for the right time comes

Just the right time

For the Big Eye seeth ALL

Yea, He seeth you!

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InspirationalPoetry

BEFORE THE TRAIN IS GONE

Let’s not rest our heads
From dawn to dusk
Our frail bones break

Our dreams too young to wreck
We’ not ready to let down the mantle
We’ got a lot to say

Oh yes! we got a story to write
Let’s not be late
We’ not here to make the same
We’ believe not in normality

Extraordinary the hallmark
Failure counts not in our DNA
So we comprehend no defeat

Our dreams greater than the oceans
Our ambitions bigger than the skies
We got a lot to say

Oh yes! we have a story to write
Time flies like a thief at night
Man! if you got a story
Jump in the ride before the train is gone!

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Poetry

WHO YOU OUGHT TO BE

The dream is to be rich and bold, great and strong

So our parents see a hero and professionals in us

Prophet and soothsayers might even see beyond

And friends and society do see otherwise

But above all that they see; you just find yourself in life’s net

Plenty folks have a different dream for us

Regardless of our potentials within

And on those foundation I term their counsel

They build some massive castles

Being born as a child; so young and free

We enjoyed everything freely at no fee

So the confidence of who we want to be when we grow

Was like a chorus we sing at a show

Everyone want to be a queen and rule like king

With several servants and wear diamond rings

Like Azar; we want to be number one

Painting the world with our favorite colors.

And walk majestically on golden parlors

But growing up as youth

Life actually told us the truth

Reality thought us that is not on a silver platter

Being yourself, Is like opening to a difficult chapter

The desire to be a doctor at six

Turns to a carpenter at twelve

Migrate to a musician at eighteen

And some point; we don’t even know who to be

Not forgetting, Our welfare is subject to the economy

With education holding the autonomy

And our environment influencing our decisions

Trampling on our vision and passion

Forcing us to chase the wrong dreams

And end up emptied to the brim

One thought of being like teacher Kwesi

And fly to America and Zambezi

Has shown a route

In reality, A doctor is working accounts in banks

And the unqualified are being giving high ranks

Hunger and greed has called several men to the pulpit

Looting and pushing the innocent and ignorant into a messed pit

Filling people’s mind with winding ecstasy

Through their ambiguous and false prophecies

Do I even know who I want to be?
It’s like a heavy burden loaded on me

I wish I could be a footballer or writer

But for a traders son I have to learn to be a manager

Climbing the ladder upstairs to success

In this diaspora is filled with immense stress

So now I don’t think of who I want to be

For even those we look up to or envy

Are like wolf’s in a sheep skin

Who really burn deep from within

So if you ask me, who I want to be like?

I will simply say,
“I want to be me”

For the person you ought to be

Is yourself and no no one else.

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Poetry

TIME WITH YOU: The Failings

It was meant to be blue
Yet had suddenly turn black
And I don’t even have a clue
For love isn’t a factor you and I lack

For in our heart’s storeroom we have in abundance
So, all I needed was a chance
To prove my worth; asunder

You cast me; confused
You set me; mesmerized
You left me; surrendered

You ended me; hurt
You caused me; weakened
You’ve made me; encountered

With pain; I bow down in shame
Shame of not making you mine
Shame of wasting the time
But it’s not all wasted I say

For memory will be the judge one day
For our time together

Should have absolutely lived forever
So why the failings at the eleventh hour?

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Poetry

TIME WITH YOU: The Cleave

You do not give me a cause to worry
And whenever I feel offended, you do say sorry
My game coach and everyday friend
The very one I want to be with to the very end

Your worth than treasures; for you’re my special melanin
You add value and taste to my life; my unique iodine
So hardworking and industrious
Very innocent and courageous

A country person with a city swag
Guess you mob my sorrow like a rag
A decent religious person filled with the holy ghost
Guess you do attend Pentecost

We have several things in common
A gap teeth and dimple
Music lovers and very simple
Don’t forget our passion and affection

Bet you are the best in contention
You make me understand the need to find a good partner
For you lighten up my strife in life.

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Poetry

TIME WITH YOU: The Journey

Like a wall clutched with a ladder
We solely lean on each other
Had our breakfast and lunch together
Amidst unending monster laughter
In fact, we are closer than Aladdin and his pet
And in our dealings, do we accord maximum respect.
Like a bleach cream, you lighten my fears
And cause me to darken up before our peers
So, I stand tall before the rest
And fall low to you; like a baby to the breast
When work directs me left, you go right
My exact version, my cushion and sunlight.
You enlighten my day
And your dares move my spines I say
Loving you will never be a mistake
For it’ll be a great venture to undertake
If your love is to be a lottery or super bet
I’m sure I will stake with all I get
For your my jackpot and last bet
And every time with you is like a reflection of myself
So, I feel so safe like a book on a shelf

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Poetry

TIME WITH YOU: The Beginning

Down the journey of life
We at times get blessed with a friend
Who stays closer than a husband or wife
Cooking our days like a kitchen trend.
Attacking us like a love Panduit
Always on our mind and dreams
And to such persons do we wish to sing heavenly hymns
For their smiles and lips
Is like they are curved out of our ribs
Our everyday crush
The very ones who cover all our thrush
It’s a fruitful beginning with your love
And more of your friendship do I pray to have.

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