LEAVE ME BE!

~LEAVE ME BE! ~

You could hardly tell

The position of the moon

During the day.

You would guess, but your words

May be just void.

As I limp away, you could

Hardly tell the reason

Behind my back

Please save yourself the pain

For your guesses may be wrong.

My teeth are black

It's lovely yours are shiny white

Should I be shunned from smiling?

Just because you think they poison your delight?

Please, leave me be

They are in my mouth not yours!

Your cloths are nice

Mine are coarse, but should I be cast

Into the wilderness because

You think I’m not your class?

Well, that’s interesting so just

Leave me be! 

---Fampah Coyish---

​

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2013

YOU, POET?

YOU, POET?

If I could ever answer this straight

Bet you me, I would get this right

I would, though the truth will seem too bright

Cause every time I’m always tight with fear.

What would I say, if asked?

Yet I’m always asked each night.

Do you not have eyes?

Have you left your sight at birth?

Oh, ye of little passion!

Where have you left your compassion?

Why daily undermine me-

Why taunt me with disbelieve?

Search my works

And you shall find.

Do I always have to boast in myself?

That; yea I am a poet-

An African poet of course?

 Need me bigger glasses,

And long grey hair to prove?

When I play with words,

And control your emotions.

When I beat your minds whenever I lie in metaphor.

Confuse you with anastrophe,

When I remind you of your own selves with allusions?

When I sway your souls

To mysterious lands with anagrams

And when I rhyme you nod your heads to the schemes?

Yea I’m a poet

And if that is what you want to hear me spit

I’m a poet and an African poet.

But the fact that I don’t write anything about Africa

Doesn’t mean I hate my origin

And being an African poet doesn’t mean

I should always be tied to

The apron of my past histories.

A poet should be free to write what is given him

By inspiration and not try to steal

From the archives of heaven

Just to prove and impress

Yearning souls who really want to suck

From the nipples of racial pride

That yes he is really an African.

Yes I’m a poet an African poet

For that matter

So curse me you if you feel I write like none

Hate me you if you feel I sound like not

But trust me you, a poet is a poet

Whether African or not

And I write what is given me by

Inspiration not

What to prove that yea

Truly I’m an African.  

---Fampah Coyish---

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2014

THIS ROAD

~This Road~

Looking at this road

The road that links your soul

And mine together

From this sulky walks.

It lies so far away,

Far enough to get us distracted.

This long dusty road

Which’s end, the sun shines brighter

Than it ever has.

Where the clouds all robed

In white-a regalia

For our joyous celebrations

And the greeny vegetation

Showing us the rich fertility of

Our tomorrow

Oh!

How I wish you will love to walk on

This long dusty love journey with me.

---Fampah Coyish---

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2014

PENNY AGE

~PENNY AGE~

Twenty-three golden coins

Slipping through my fingers

Each day as if I will earn more and more.

I feel happier even though it isn’t enough.

Just a penny, yet I’m happy.

I’m glad, simply because I find it more useful

And manageable than a million more without

Any earthly clue on how to spend it.

So in this gold penny age,

I shall bargain carefully and wisely with life

So I can buy much pleasure and happiness

In whatever I do.

---Fampah Coyish---

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2014

CRY ON US

~CRY ON US~

Before you we stand

We the he and she mortals

Of the land

With our calabashes shivering in our hands.

Can’t you have mercy and shed a tear?

Why can’t you act as-

We usually testify, great and mighty?

And you life,

What wrongs have we done to you?

What wrongs have we done him?

That he should treat us like slaves

Lashing us each day?

Where do we know him-

Does he even know us?

What murder have we committed?

What heights are our atrocities?

That he should be so unfair,

Mean and unkind to us?

How long will our sent

Pleas finally reach your sensitive eyes

How long again will it take you to get sad enough

To shed tears on us?

---Fampah Coyish---

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2014

  

THE SADDEST PART OF DEATH

~THE SADDEST PART OF DEATH~

Even while life plays its role

Death waits at a corner of jealousy

Waiting to roll.

The life we live today explains nothing

As we grow

Death comes in many shapes and forms

You could hardly tell his nature

Yet dying an infant still has nothing

To be compared to dying a year after birth.

The saddest part of death is not dying a day after birth

The saddest part of death is not dying hungry

The saddest part of death is not dying

Neither a pauper nor a mad man

Neither is it being drowned

Nor burn into ashes.

Death is living, and living is dying

The saddest part of death is not being

Hanged on a tree

Not suffocating to one’s last breath

But being dead in any of these ways

Without a corpse to bury.

Leaving without a last smile

For families and friends to cherish.

---Fampah Coyish---

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2014

SUFFERING WAS GOOD

~ SUFFERING WAS GOOD~

It cannot be the defeat that was great

It has not been the happiness

That has grown to fly.

Since you left I always cry

Not because I suffered the pain

For suffering was good.

How bad would it have been,

If I had not suffered?

For then I had seen my field of playing

Known my strengths and weakness

Identified my capabilities.

Suffering is good, only if

It will bring good

What good would it have been

If I had not suffered?

---Fampah Coyish---

​

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2013

WHO AT ALL-WHO?

~WHO AT ALL-WHO?~

 Will we and the entire earth be caught in amazement?

That alas the monster has finally departed?

Will the whole heavens swell up with jubilation?

That finally-finally the claws of hell has broken

And gone blunt?

Who will mourn the wicked, if he be dead?

Who will mourn the ungrateful-the backbiter

The dealer of darkness?

Will there ever be rooms in the heart of the benevolent?

An empty one of course.

Will there ever be humanity in humans when the

Wicked finally-finally departs the lands of the living?

Sometimes I wonder; how every soul praises

The good departed ones and hearts

How all good words and songs mixed with sweet saliva,

Are sung to fill their caskets.

Sometimes I ask myself;

Will there ever be a tad of these lines

A leftover of these sweet praises for

The wicked departed ones and hearts?

Will there ever be?

Will reservations be made for them when we finally-finally

Reckon that not all hearts are good?

Will we still sing our honey coated eulogies?

When we realise that, or will our

Praises burn out into ashes in our mouths?

And all our good perspectives and intentions breakdown into dust?

Will our sweet saliva be swallowed or shall we spit away?

But who at all will mourn the wicked?

Is it the poor whom he took away his nothingness?

Or will it be the weak whom he bullied?

The rich whom he stole from nor

The kind-hearted whom he paid dearly

With ungratefulness-

Who at all will mourn him-who?

---Fampah Coyish---

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2014

AS HEAVEN WAITS

~AS HEAVEN WAITS~

We cry heaven must wait-

Heaven must wait, because we fear

The blazing sight of hell

Yet we do worst each day we’re spared.

We cry for wealth-make us wealthier

Yet in our wealthiest we do

Grievously each day

By stealing the poor and needy.

We flap our wings of wealth to the world

To display like an eagle

But its eyes we have refused to borrow.

Cause we don’t see the use of its eyes

That could notice the tiniest

Struggling creatures to help-

As we flap our wealth to display

Our earthly glories and beauties.

We are blind as an owl,

Who only waits till night

To scare and devour the struggling,

The helpless and afflicted.

We don’t have mercy, like jackals we

Cause pain while laughing.

Our hearts are puffed up with pride-

Our hearts are strong,

Its strength is like a speed steel

So hardened and tempered

That there is no room

For the exercising of forgiveness.

But as we cry for Heaven to wait

Let us remember that Hell his brother

Shall also be waiting.

---Fampah Coyish---

​

© By Fampah Coyish-Awoken By Poems 2014

ENSNARED BY POETRY

~ENSNARED BY POETRY~

Am trapped in this poetic world

Shackles on my feet, I can’t run away

Eyes fastened by diction, I can’t find a way

Am ensnared by Poetry and its seen in written word

I am daily being swallowed in, in the infinite deep of this passion

Holding me so, in ever tightening rings and in refrain

I find myself rhyming, and am afraid I can’t let go, just simply drawn

Am sucked in, deep, past, reachable marks known

And they say we are just infected

That such passion will ever leave us transcended

In things particular and resented

That life can’t hold us in such habits repeated

That if we don’t give up and have poetry repented

We will remain outsiders ever discriminated

Daily lashes on my soft brains

I can’t stand it yet I can’t refrain

Maybe I’m an addicted slave

I hate to rhyme but I’m ensnared, and just a slave

I’m in chains and I need a change-

An inspiration to inspire my liberation

Yet chances look slim.

My world is too dark,

No light of happiness, always cuffed to the quill.

I’m sick and tired of the pains of wanting my words to prill

Whiles the tattoo of my pain always comes to patrol

From a faraway land out of the boundaries of my soul.

My agonies embedded on my heart-I’m enslaved

I’m stuck behind these poetic bars

Always harvesting regrets of birth in my sad plantations

Yet hoping to find a story that could get the most suitable

Lines that could be sung as praises

For my bravery during my torturing times.

Branded “Poet” on my skins, I can’t escape-

People will find me, send me back

To my copious emotions for ransoms for I’m tagged.

Wrists tied to ankles with chains of pun, it’s impossible to break loose

Even though with a strength, as much as Zeus’

I’m ensnared by poetry, just a slave, so till the end of my life

I will endure!

---Ronald K. Ssekajja, Fampah Coyish---

© By Fampah Coyish, Ronald K Socratise Ssekajja-Awoken By Poems 2014