The Grey in the Groin

He spends three stiff-neck hours bent over every Saturday, looking for the solitary grey in his pubic hair. He's disappointed to find that he's all black down there, while his beard shows thirty strands. His head - he's been compelled to shave it all!

The Final Piece

we have spent time,
enjoyed each other
and not died from idle boredom.

we had a false start,
raised it new from the ground,
and found mutual addiction.

we’ve even come to trust
that, in any trying moment,
we'll have each other's back.

now we feel each absence;
we scheme and devise ways
to touch and care all day.

the mind is never bare,
the dream, always sweet,
the smile, as ever, warm.

i’ve found the fulfilling piece,
you hold it all together,
with you, life's now complete.

Liquid Fire

Liquid fire
Burning desire
Men and boys love to admire
Sleek red wire
Sweet like a lyre
Blaze hot and higher
Fancy flier
Blood red attire
Liquid fire
How do I aspire!
Liquid fire
You’re mine to acquire!

Wonderful You

How I live my life for you
I know you'll never know
The way I feel warm to your touch
The pleasure only your name brings
How I fear to sleep too deep
As dreams are so unreal
The little lies I tell myself
The big smiles that light up my eyes
The things that I'd like us to do
How I’d kill not to lose you
I want to tell your face softly
How wonderful you are!

Kindred Spirits

Give me a day
To catch my breath
To still my heart

Cut me a sliver
Of your sugary soul
To fill my heart with sweetness

Plant me a kiss
From your lovely lips
To catch my youth forever

Hold me to you
Tenderly in your arms
A hug to call me yours

Smile me some gold
And silver in your eyes
Bathe my house in sunlight

Tell me a tale
Of love and long ago
Of laughter and of glee

Sing me a song
Sing deep and deeper still
And bring tears to my eyes

Spare me a thought
Of absence, hearts and fondness
For I’m always missing you

Lock me in a look
The power of your eyes
My feelings freeze for all time

This universe we share
Is quite a pretty thing
Because you and I are 'natural'

Stretch your arms and touch me
Whisper your answer to my wish
The truth I’ve always known.

For: The Woman I know was made just for me! I believe. Please Believe!

Back-Stabbing – The Anlo Experience

In 1783, warriors from Akyem, Ada, Akwapem and Ga ganged up with Denmark (yes, Danes!) to fight a war with the great and proud people of Anlo. What had the Anlos done? Oh, they’d only pillaged a Danish trade caravan and killed its leader (just one man) of whose names only Thessen appears to have survived history.

Against the force of such an overwhelming conspiracy, the great Anlos lost to the Danes and the back-stabbers, and were ruled and controlled by Denmark until 1850 when they suffered the ignominy of being passed along to Great Britain along with other ‘possessions’ of Denmark, which had lost interest(?) in what is present-day Ghana.

One Million Paths to Love

Time and Attraction
soon lure love to themselves;
Wit and Humour
fetch a fertile fondness;
Smiles and Kindness
will coax cascading affection;
Loneliness and Presence
bind unlikely souls together;
Risk and Adventure
ravish reason with seduction -
One million paths to Love.

Kwahu Easter Fiesta

Obo, Obomeng, Atibie, Mpraeso: they attract revelling crowds from the 4 corners of Ghana and lands beyond. Rarefied-air-on-mountaintop, music and barbecue tightly hugging the narrow, eroding-bitumen streets on either side, wealthy chateaux holding hands with old, 1970s homes.

At Atibie: paragliding for foreigners (because it costs GH¢50 a glide), at Mpraeso: Music Music by TV3, at Obomeng: founts of drink and mounts of food. But, this year, somebody directed that no women should wear miniskirts, hot shorts or short dresses. Next year, they’ll lose numbers.

Egoprovocation

While exiting a white-goods shop with Lil Girl, a bloke pulls up and waves at her, so we figure they’re familiar. I’m stowing a bag in the boot, when bloke accosts Lil Girl and whispers that she’s beautiful and he wants her number. Lil Girl calmly gestures towards me and says that her husband would not like that. Oaf-bloke turns around and ‘penguins’ into the shop. He’s fat, and his boxers are oozing out of his sagging jeans.

The Ghana Music Awards

A regular commerce-driven company organises the Ghana Music Awards. It was a master stroke of business genius for them to create the event which attracts more suspense, intrigue and excitement than almost any other in Ghana. I don’t think many events have been more crazily followed in Ghana in the past 10 years than the Ghana Music Awards, apart from the General Elections, the Africa Cup of Nations 2008 and Barack Obama’s pit stop in Accra.

In its time, I’ve seen the Ghana Music Awards criticised by musicians almost every year. Now, criticism itself is not a bad thing, is it? But if so many are so variously angered, dismayed or repulsed by nominations and awards at the event, why is it still so inexorably popular? Cannot the musicians and their associations set up their own glitzy-ritzy awards event? And since they will be the organisers and the eligible at the same time, the popularity of their programme will mean a necessary waning of the star quality of the Ghana Music Awards.

You can support the Ghana Music Awards and make it better, or you can cull its clout by setting up a ‘self-awarding’ musicians’ event. Whatever you do, do not accept nominations every year and turn around to criticise if the “Most Popular Song of the Year”, by your estimation, is no more popular than cricket in Ghana.

Provocation – One Minute to Murder

Silently suffering the only one United bite two H2 bullets from the band of badass Bavarians, a hoggish, hirsute hobgoblin hobbles between my main man and I, provoking me with his puerile revelry because he’s figured with his kernel brain that I’m a United fan. I eye the coke bottle on the table, imagine his blood on the shiny Equator-Bar floor, but elect to bark at him instead. He scampers off with his tail between his hinds.

Integrity

No darn dictionary can tell me what it means. But I know its main meaning when I’m fringing a cruel cliff, stumbling toward the great gorge below, and one mere metre at my blind back hovers the sole beneficiary of my ‘loaded’ life insurance.

Obama's Legacy & Other Random Questions

Can what feels good ever be wrong?
Has Obama already secured his legacy?
What on Earth is a Goliath Tiger Fish?
Is Cote d’Ivoire serious about Eriksson?

Of Royalty and Fleas

Opinions should be free
To the hundredth degree
If royalty lies with fleas
We'll criticise and sting like bees

Joshua Clottey Should Shut Up

He fought with the US government for exercising its discretion in refusing his trainer’s visa application. Those were rounds 1 and 2. He fought with Manny Pacquaio, before the real fight, for ‘disrespecting’ him. Those were rounds 3 and 4. He fought a Ghanaian boxer for sparring with Pacquaio (i.e. for being unpatriotic). Those were rounds 5 and 6. Then he ate food which slowed him down. Those were rounds 7 and 8. Then he danced his way to the ring promising a swagger which never showed up. Those were rounds 9 and 10. When the real fight came around, he’d already been boxing for 10 rounds with the whole world, and was so tired that he showed up without the boxer in him. Now he’s complaining about how Ghanaians are treating him post-bout. Was he boxing for personal glory and money or for Ghana? He's fighting everyone, again, before his next real bout.

Joshua Clottey, just shut up!

Ridge, Accra’s Most Beautiful

Accra’s Most Beautiful is royal, romantic Ridge. It’s not the eerie equilibrium eddying between the quaint colonial-esque concrete cloisters and the modern, steel-and-glass split-levels and skywards, no! It is the towering, titan trees! Neems, Mahoganies, What’s-their-names. They stand sentry, elegantly, on the street-sides and dominate even brick-and-stone. That’s how Accra was meant to strike a pose.

I'm Taking a Phone With Me

When we die we leave behind all things material. But what if one object could go with us?

Virgin Mobile Lobster phone - Virgin Radio

If I had to go today, and I could take one object or thing with me, and still use it on the other side, it'd probably be my phone. I'd like to call everyone I love, except that I'm wondering who in Heaven (or elsewhere, lol) provides the service? What object would you take? Would you take a person? Lol.

Broken Promises

I’m evolving into the king of broken promises. On workdays, I proffer public pledges to friends and ‘friendlies’ to visit A or call B over the unhurried weekend. When Saturday stops around, I’m still too busy or deadbeat or traffic-tied at home to defend my honour. They really are my friends, who call themselves my friends. I thank them.

As the Weekend Comes

As the weekend comes
And this week dies,
Make the weekend really come
And let this week’s work really end
Find a soft spot
Somewhere, or in your mind
And float through it
With all the pleasures you can find.

Between Love and Friendship

The sun still throws a warm glow
And the stars, glint and glitter
The birds chirrup each dawn
And the days are lotused with laughter
A friendship buds like a Portland Rose
Will it blossom on this social side,
Or bloom across The Besotted Line?
There’s love in Friendship and friendship in Love
And then, there is Love, and there is Friendship.