“Shine your eyes”

So many people know what's wrong
but still are singing the same old song.
They know our government's filled with sin
but they accept the predicament that we're in.

We've become complacent and accept our fate.
They are the eaters. We are the bait.
They gobble up hope with an iron hand
and tell us we have freedom in this land.

Too many lies have filled our ears
over and again all through the years.
We are taxed to death and they still want more.
They need more taxes for another crown.

They get richer as they take what we earn.
They take away our dreams and still we yearn
for change to come and light to shine.
That's a fool's way of thinking, a clinging vine

that hangs on to a vision that's not real.
For every government is set up to steal.
So why can't people take back what's theirs?
Because they're too busy saying their prayers.

Well God helps those who help themselves.
Read the history books gathering dust on shelves.
Then you'll see that it's all up to we
to change what's becoming our history.

The Chronicle of a repented soul - 1

I foresee my death in the next second.. This foresight has shattered all my future aspirations; yet bring me to realize the day of “reckoning” as the Holy Quran describes it…. The day Allah will judge every human by their deeds and with which their faith will be determine.
It should have been a good thing to know I am dyeing and smiling, because heaven as it is described by men who are clued-up “is a land of eternal peace, riches, health and all that is desired by the soul”. Yet fear immerses my soul, for I have searched within to find a scintilla of righteousness… But few I have found of which is not worth a single room made by earth.
So in this last moments of my life I have come to realized all the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years have wasted on wordily possessions that are egger to say goodbye and cling to the next person who is as imprudent as I was.
Who among you my worldly friends and family can save me from the anguish of the grave… Remember! It was with you I share all my time and fortunes.
And the Hell fire! Who among you sympathizing can save me from its burns?
I should have known this (world) is no destination but a journey.. Before death takes the remaining breath, I share this knowledge that only few people have, with hope that the good with it will follow me to the next world…

GHANA IS A RAPE VICTIM!

I look at my nation through a pair of eyes,

That see past all the hidden lies.

Of all the people who roam the earth,
Who truly have no real self worth.

The things I see tear me apart.
They twist and stab my tortured heart.

The cruel reality leaves me amazed,
And I am left to stare in a helpless daze.

Brother, Mother Ghana has been raped!!
I’m filled with anger and overwhelmed by hate,
Dwelling on the pain of Ghana’s corrupted state.

Baffled by the unkindness that now surrounds her life,
Yearning for the courage to pierce the knife.

Brother, Mother Ghana has been raped!!

Right through her heart and into her soul,
Her heart can't survive with a deep black hole.

Brother, Mother Ghana has been raped!!

The hole in her heart it has no end,
No person, nor thing possess the power to mend.

I look at my nation through a pair of eyes,
Lost and in pain as no surprise.

Brother, Mother Ghana is being raped…..
By you………by me…….

THE SEX POEM

Oh Asana!!
Fairest of all our village maids!
Mma Rahi says your birth was in the forest shades
She says there were green leaves and glimpses of the sky,
She knew you’d be mine, looking into your infant eye.

Your trips to the village stream when a child,
And when you broke Mma’s only pot in the wild,
I remember cos I was there with you admiring the beauty of the place
Even then, I could feel the love in your heart and on your face.
On that day when the twilight fell on the trees and rocks
And when my fingers were lost in the shade of your dreadlocks;
My hand around your waist began to weave the weaves.
Playfully, we did something sweet behind the leaves
When the play was over, only “tita” the bird, sung in the atmosphere serene
And I wondered, “what we have done, has heaven also seen?”
Your eye lashes had carried a guilty – sweet look
And I read your curvy figure as if it were a book
The nim trees and the shea trees saw us against each other pressed
As I did what a baby does to a mother’s breast
It was all over – clothes back on body and pretense filled the air
Out from our calm solitudes, we went back to the village square.
We are still innocent, after all, we were not caught on tape!!!

by Abdul Hayi Moomen