News Reporter From Bethlehem

Mary said she was lonely
and what God had to do
was start a fire in her,
start a burning that would ruin
deep down her belly.
It was just a spirit making home
in a wombam
and what could
Joseph do but be less than a boy
with not even a kite to chase.

Persona Poem

ECG Director 

If everyone woke
and said let there be 

light! then I would be
God and they, my chosen

people. But I am
not even in control

of the powers
in my home.

So I pray
each day

for a super
natural big bang

                                                        or the day
                                                        to wake the sun.



*Electoral Commission of Ghana

Tired of Poetry Yet?

I have been so worn, trying to get my poetry on. So far, I have studied with Barbara Helfgott Hyett, Jericho Brown and in a few days I'll be sitting with Martin Espada. I do have a lot to say about these conferences. But, in summary, I am surprised I am not tired of reading or writing poetry. I have also realized that I have written so many more poems that I had expected. And that is so refreshing. Here's one I really love:



What Happens When You Sleep

Ganarth’s adventure into  the spirit world

is a dream you’re supposed to be in

but failed to manipulate a nightmare, so you’re dead:

No walking into chambers with old men chanting things

you could have sworn were tunes that sprung 

from your grandmothers throat each morning, 

no spiritual tour guide, not even a wingless heroine

with a body of a tiger or a tongue of a giraffe.

But, you will  be judged.

Your choice: a stinking feather to speed 

your flight to hell.