The year is withering: the wind
Blows down the leaves;
Men stand under eaves
And overhead the secrets
Of the cold dry wind,
Of the half-bare trees
The grasses are tall and tinted,
Straw gold hues of dryness,
And the contradicting awryness
Of the dusty roads a-scatter
With the peals of colourful leaves,
With ghosts of the dreaming year.
And soon, soon the fires,
The fires will begin to burn,
The hawk will flutter and turn
On its wings and swoop for the mouse,
The dogs will run for the hare,
The hare for its little life.
"The Dry Season" is the sixth, and final, of our series of poems on the Harmattan . The fun isn't over yet, though! Due to the popularity of the series, new poems about the Harmattan will appear sporadically throughout the remainder of 2010, and will be collected here.
He really was a fine poet and chronicler of his times. If you want to know about the heady days after independence, until the dream crashed, Kwesi Brew is the go to guy.
ReplyDeleteBeneath the beautiful language, his poems, often display an understated menace, as if to keep you on your guard. Perhaps the love poetry of Dennis Brutus was the only body of work that could match Brew's genius for turning the everyday into the frightening.
Cheers
I remember a 'Sandal on the Head'. Was he the one...? I think he was also the one who wrote 'the Mesh'. How things can change
ReplyDeleteYes, he wrote both of those poems.
ReplyDeleteIf you are curious to read them again, I found them both online here: http://heritage2001.tripod.com/entries_ghana.htm
Unfortunately, they are poorly transcribed - some punctuation and linebreaks are lost (and they don't even get the title correct for "A Sandal on the Head"!) Oh well, it's better than nothing...
thanks Rob. I would check this.
ReplyDeletethose are our heroes
ReplyDeleteand we celebrate their prints
it stays indelible in thoughts
and fresh like the wines of nuts
never tasted yet forever celebrated
MAY HIS SOUL ABIDE IN PEACE
Honourable Poet Kwesi Brew! I like the chain of perilous events in the last stanza, that underline the wrath of Harmattan*.
ReplyDelete*It can be debatable for us to assume that 'The Dry Season' is about Harmattan only. I'm beginning to think of poverty as the its metaphoric meaning, if that isn't too remote.
A reflection on Darkos --thought on poverty why not a series of poems devoted to just that topic--poverty of the pocket but also the soul.How it effects people and the frustration involved when one is painfully aware of ones situation but helpless to change it.
ReplyDeleteWhat does it lead to--drink wife beating--frustration--absence of hope.Just a thought.--Silverzorro.
Poverty as a subject on One Ghana One Voice! That's not just a thought. It's a thoughtful thought you've sent across, Silverzorro. And I'm intersted.
ReplyDelete@Darko Antwi, It's not just a far-fetched linkage. The fact that you have linked it does mean that it works. The beauty of ART. I like the way it began as a benignant objects and events and all of a sudden they morphed into malevolent events with animals running for their dear lives.
ReplyDeleteI've got your point Nana.
ReplyDelete