Saturday 17 December 2011

A Text Message To My Friend, Jake, Who Died For Their Sake - Philip Addo


Dear friend, I have a message to send:

The lions are marching with ants into pits for grains
While elephants roam in their dens in the plains;
The crabs are jumping into soups which burn their skin
And swabbing the pretty blankets that make them kin;
The sheep are diving into the sea for fishes
While leaves grow green on the land for dishes;
And the peacocks are complaining they are not beautiful
Just because they are not dutiful.
They are all moving in the oracles of unseen chaining
And the designers embrace them in feigning.
They are going back into the mud
Singing hallelujah 'backwards change' from the bud.


5 comments:

  1. Where two or three junkies are gathered in the name of literature, [like Kweku Baako] I prefer ugly noises to a culture of silence. A poet once wrote: silence is golden. But I think our kind of silence is a rusty metal on a scrap-truck, pulled across Kaneshie via Dansoman, towards a recycling yard! Oh my caustic tongue, I have not learned taming it.

    For various private reasons, most readers (including me) have not been commenting as usual. That is not to say; they have not been reading the weekly titles - per the publishers' main objective. Perhaps we feel it's no more necessary to post a comment, as it is not obligatory. However apparent or explicable our reasons are, it remains true that the OGOV commentary tradition is left abandoned, save some occasional remarks.

    Oh yeah, there are a lot more literary activities going on, both outside and online. I understand. But, I have realized that they do not compensate the warmth and the sense of comradeship we've left blank on the commentary / appreciation page of our dear magazine.

    May I pause here and say 'welldone' to Philip Addo for his amazing poem.

    Merry Christmas!

    ReplyDelete
  2. This post has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I have some views to share concerning Philip Addo's 'A Text Message To My Friend', Jake Who Died For Their Sake', but I just don't know how to put them in words.

    About a year ago, I wanted to say something critical about Juanita Tsikata's 'Wake Up I'm Home', but I couldn't put thoughts together. But I'm glad that I've got a poem that shapes itself between theirs. I wrote it in January 2011. Titled: Thinking aloud, while sipping palmwine in England.

    Friends, I wish to submit it. Hoping it gets space.

    ReplyDelete
  4. this is a good poem by all standard with a powerful message. thanks philip for reawakening us as Africans.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Straight to the point: no curve,no bend. Kudos again,Philip

    ReplyDelete