Moving On

Seasons
Decked in their finest robes
Calling

Melodies
From within my boundless sanctuary
Bubbling

Faith
The chequered currency of glory
Beckoning

Footsteps of the purple twilight
Whirlwind of contentment
The summon of courage

Close at hand
The time
To move on
To press on

Blessed are those
Led by the guiding whispers of accompanying audience
Trust fate in the embracing arms of hope
Carried on wings of favour
To the womb of resurrection

The Shredder In My Mind

Your mawkish choice to make your heart a museum
Of our past encounters is the least of my bothers
I will however not fail to let you know
That I have already shredded that past from my mind

Thoughts About A Father

Walking through fallowed fields of my soul

Happy memories of a father

The price of precious pursuits

The charm of unfeigned sobriety

The endearing portrait of virility

The assurance of strident care

The fervency of fortitude

A surreal thesis of fatherhood

Engrafted upon my heart

Examination

In a psychopathically-patterned gray vacuum
Entirely drained of sanctity and desire
A frozen horizon symbolic of doom
A Concentration camp for wannabees
Congregants
Willing prisoners
Seated
Dead-like
Silence
Pregnant minds
Birth pangs
Pens and papers
Neuronal marathons
Rhythmic inscriptions
Three hours
One by one
They leave
Cheerless
An MBA examination

A Mob-Persuaded Adventurist

The probabilities are pretty good.
So finally I have persuaded myself to do it.
This weekend.
Mobbish group of friends are to blame.
This adventure sure to be nerve-whacking.
Already feeling the Adrenalin rush.
So here I hang my hormones on the ropes.
For I am going Bungee jumping.
Yahoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

A Project within a Project

One late Thursday evening
Recently
In my favoured corner
In a corporate reading room
All by myself
Tackling a CBA project
Lost in the heated permutations of deadlines
Surreptitiously I feel the probing stare
I turn
First
To the left
Then
To the right
To a great view
From a window
In the opposite office
A pair of beautiful smiling eyes
Starring coquettishly
Hands-on-the-hips invitation
I wave
Wondering. . .
Is that for me?
Waves of rapid permutations float through my mind
Then I remember I have a presentation
Early Friday morning

Fields Of Puzzles

The cruel tricks that life ever plays
The games of chance he dearly frays
Perpetual winner he never vows
Glorious trophy ever in his paws
Trailing voices all around
Diminishing choices set abound
Tension
Contention
The valiant ones amongst them say
Hold sturdy for yet another day
Beyond the sighs the victory songs
Rays of hope on redeeming tongues
Sacrificial patience
Animated nations
Steely-eyed we crave some easing
Transcending limitations of feeling
This place where life feels so strange
Our lot has got to change

Advice For The Scared and The Shy

It takes just a second, two or perhaps three

• to smile
• to wink
• to wave
• to say Hi
• to hold my hand
• to squeeze a hug
• to plant a kiss
  
• to look into my eyes
• to let me know I stand a chance
• to whisper your salient point
  
• to say I love you

There are 86 400 seconds in a day and over 31 536 000 in a year.

So what are you waiting for?

You will never know until you try.

Do it now.

Pheeeeeeew!

I have been away from this wall for some time now.
I needed to take a break to recharge my batteries.
Glad to say that I am back to blogosphere.
Hope every one of you is doing great.
Bless you all !!!

Frayed Emotions: Ghanaians Need Psychological Detoxing

Just today one of the guys in the office told me I was looking stressed and drained like someone with a hangover after an all-night drinking marathon.
The fact is I don't do alcohol, so the comments, at first, seemed out of place. Then I remembered how I had almost crashed into two cars yesterday, and it all started getting clearer in my mind. The cliff-hanger elections and the fact that we have been deprived of the knowledge of the final picture must have had some effect on me.
Now I am beginning to realise that the national psyche of Ghana can suffer a profound damage if the Electoral Commission of Ghana does not step in this afternoon with the much-anticipated results.
The tear and wear resulting from the emotional roller-coaster of the current general elections, in my opinion, requires some form of therapeutic management. We must admit the campaigns and the waiting have been bruising to every one of us.
Ghana has an Auditor General, an Attorney- General and a Statistician General. All these Generals carry out very important national agenda. Perhaps we also need a Psychologist General to take care of our psychological well-being. Someone who can channel the entire Nation of Ghana into lalaland every time(which is almost every second) someone drives us nuts like they are doing to us right now!
So if, all of a sudden, you begin to experience panic attacks, insomnia, intemperance, lack of concentration at work etc, it is possible that you may be suffering from post-election anxiety disorder(if there is such a medical condition).
Oops! We are not yet in the post-election season. We are being told to prepare for a second-round. Who needs a second round of emotional crucifixion? I am not particularly happy with second rounds, except in one particular sphere of life which involves the release of a good measure of endorphins which I am told are good for one's health.
Not only are Ghanaians going to be exposed once again to a second round of intolerable political dribble, but we are also going to have our Christmas stolen from us on the alter of electing a political saviour!

Oh what a saviour we have in Atta Mills and Nana Akuffo Addo!!!