Posts Tagged ‘Aisha Nelson’

Emotions are the canal, bridge that  makes or unmakes humanity. Two of them are progressive; hope and love. 

1.  Hope is the tender that allows us to legally pursue life .

There are times when we cling to hope, not because we don’t know, we can’t do, or even, that we haven’t seen better.

Those are the times when our being may not depend on it. 

–  Aisha Nelson, My Resonse.

2.  Love holds as a root of many.

i find you missing from my gallery of great African smiles
i have come to purchase yours, sun

here’s a cheque of thank you for being beautiful
allow me to be a merchant of honour

– Kwabena Agyare Yeboah, Dedication .

3.  In the middle, what conveys this is language 

I was particularly disturbed because I had read Barthes – in front of a photograph, our consciousness does not necessarily take a path of memory, but the path of certainty, the photograph’s essence is to ratify what it represents; no writing can give that certainty, because it is the misfortune of language not to be able to authenticate itself

–  Emmanuel Iduma, Trans-wander.

4.   But know what to say and where. 

If you go to a funeral with insults, you will be seen off with slaps

–   An Akan Proverb

5. Even death becomes a monument in life.

 They say life is a riddle
and the grave is a metaphor
for an infinite absence

– Rasaq Malik, The Grave 

6. Yet we still search.

Before your eyes

Maybe you hallucinate

Maybe you are on opiates

But this nothing

This gaping nothing

– Amma Konadu,  And Now . . .

7. Keep looking. Everyone is a storyteller. 

It doesn’t matter who hurt you, or broke you down, what matters is who made you smile again.

–  Female Struggles,  @tfemaleissues

 

Note: A re-construction of thoughts in an element of experimental narratives.  I extend what I know or pretend to know , as one that falls within the purview of human knowledge. Thank you to these artists, people for sharing what they know about life. 

 
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  5.  Aisha Nelson :  She is one of my favorites in this generation. Her pieces are intellectually stimulating. She does not spoon-feed her readers. In a unique way , she draws readers along a path that sets in finding  self, theme et al. As a writer, she does not profess to know answers- she knows words to situations.  Her words gel like a master hand  on a  piano and I love to hum to that song.

                                                                            …at the scent of water

                                        Image

   

                                                                                                           not water

not dew

 

at the scent of water

 

 

 

let the frayed stump spew green

 

let the foul egg vomit a being

 

 

 

let that which was birthed to die

 

find life

 

let that which died before birth

 

know life

 

 

 

at the scent of water

 

not dew

 

not water

(credit: The Kalahari Review)

 

            Aisha will need to get out there and show the world her ingenuity.

 

6. Dela Kobla Nyamuame( www.efodela.blogspot.com) :  Efo is a voice of conscience. He has an impeccable diction that buys for him a seat at the feet of heavens. The first time  I read his piece, I knew ” I had seen the future”. I reproduce his first poem I ever read and yes, I still remember how it felt.

                                                                                           

                                                                               Our Brother Was an Idiot

                                             Image

 

We left our brother in the open to decay
As white ants ate their way through his house
It’s not like he stood there and he didn’t try

But his exterminators were a divided house

They painted his life in a tragic comedy
And they cast a fool at him, the Pantomime Villain
And though he was our brother we called him enemy
And clapped as some alien played the Greek Hero

Our loud mouth brother was our own brother
Our pig headed brother was still our brother
Our misguided brother tried the only way he knew how
Our brother trusted us and we stood by and let him fall

Our brother did not learn from the mistakes of others
Our brother thought his brothers were unlike Joseph’s brothers
Our brother was an idiot to think blood was thicker than water
Maybe our brother is a mirror reflecting our soulless land

Our brother might have been an idiot to dare them
To build a house of wood next to white ant nests
But our brother was an even bigger idiot
To think his other brothers would help fight the pests

( Credit Poetry Foundation Ghana)

7.  Novisi Dzitrie :   There are times that people do not need more than one chance to show what they have inside. If my heart is big enough, then I will wish he never stops writing. 

                                                                                

                               O! Jebu! Stared At The Beginning As Ananse Tickled Himself In The End

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O! Jebu! climbed the mountain and stood atop, akimbo!
As if as if…
looked deep down the valley into the hole;
raising his head next to look up at the empty sky.

This system is sick…
O! Jebu! must face the tasks:
put things apart; make sense of the whole;
bring the pieces back together!
But where…
where do we place the noesis?

O! Jebu! stretched his right hand upwards…
The sky was nowhere within his reach!

So let us tell tales…
for the lack of knowledge
between the hole deep down the valley and the empty sky high above.
Let us say… they say…

They say Mawu used to live on the next floor upstairs!
And as it used to be… they say…
O! Jebu! could stand on his two feet and touch the sky
or when he felt like it, he could look out of his window
and give Mawu a wink or a wave of high five!

But it came to pass… the ancestors disobeyed Mawu!
Day after day
they lifted their heavy pestles skywards
and pounded the peace of Mawu
as they crushed yam, coco-yam, plantain and cassava into fufu.
So Mawu stormed out in anger
and removed the sky from within the reach of man!

And so O! Jebu! must now rent the services of an intercessor,
born of a virgin or of pure oracles,
if he ever wishes to speak to Mawu the omnipresent!
And yet little did Mawu the all-knowing know
O! Jebu! would soon fly aircrafts into his sky.
Mother of palmwine! Mawu Sodza!

The same God who remains the same, they say,
and yet changes regardless without prior notice.
Mother of palmwine! Mawu Sodza!

So let us tell another tale.

They say, again, so let us say:
Let us say Kweku Ananse the spider took the place of O Jebu
and presented himself before Death
in a puzzle of many a great complication.

So Death said to Ananse:
“Because you have eaten my food,
you must die…you will die! You and your family!”

But Ananse did not want to die. No!
Instead, Ananse pedaled his many legs
in one heart-throbbing attempt to flee…
So they say… and so let us say…
Let us say it is the reason why Ananse is seen caught in his own web
in corners or on ceilings of buildings in his attempt to flee…
Flee…flee from Death!

So we tell tales…
Tales to fill up the space, to make up for the lack of knowledge
between the hole deep down the valley and the empty sky high above;
strange-tales… fairy-tales…

Tales that make us cry maa maa! Or make us laugh kwa kwa kwa!

Tales of why the crab is headless,
Tales of why the moon dies,
… of why soldier-ants move in a file,
… of why indeed the monkey has a tail!

( One Ghana,One Voice)

 

             Postscript :  Chances are that I will make 10 different lists when  you give me 10 opportunities to write under the same title. What excites me is to see many youth take advantage of technology to showcase their arts. Somehow someday, you will be discovered and you will make a worthy read. Until then, I wish you luck in your walk. God bless you. * hugs*