THE DAY THE DEVIL TOLD THE TRUTH

Our perception
Of truth
Is based on the reality we choose to see.
You see,
The eyeballs work with the brain
To interpret the true position
Of things we see.
So it's like the sky is the sea
And vice-versa.
Like top is down
And more is lesser.

Our reception
For truth is
Based on a thought that is weak enough
To be crippled by it.
That we are wheel-chaired on
In the new direction
Pointed by that truth.
Then we begin to get comfortable
As we cheer on no miracles
Of having to walk again.
Or,
We clutch on to the walking aids
Provided by the same truth.

You see,
Discretion is advised
For what we hear might revise our mentalities.
If it be of a virtue,fine.
But it's not nice if it be of a vice.
Be advised.
I'll repeat this twice.
If it be of a virtue,fine
But it's not nice if it be of a vice
For it might revise our mentalities
If it be of a vice
If it be of a virtue,fine
Be advised.

You see,
The day the devil told the truth
Was when I became comfortable with his lies.

It affected my perception
Because of my reception
Because of my lack of discretion
Deception became a new direction

So you see...
Our perception... of truth
Our...perception...of...truth

--Royyce Jeddi O'Zionn

THE INVISIBLE SHOE STORE

A shoe store
With all kinds of sizes.
You can find all types of shoes there:
Loafers,stilettos,Converse...
You name it...Toms?

But you just can't seem to find the right size
That fits you so well
Or the type that you really like.

A place
Where these shoes are for free
But you have to pay for the ones you walked into the store with
Walk in barefooted and you might be fined for treating your feet so badly.

You see
This shoe store is owned by life
And our feet are the only customers that it has
So you might be the Jetsons
Whiles all others be Flintstones
They might walk barefooted
Whiles you amble around in your Plimsols
But each of us only
Know where our shoes pinch the most.
We might think our situation is far worse
Compared to other people's.

I just bought some new shoes
For free.
It is not the type that I wanted
Nor does it fit too well.
But I was only window shopping
And never intended to walk in!

Sometimes our shoes are seized
And we'll have to walk barefooted for a while.

Truth is...
Truth is,
We'll never know how someone feels like
Until we get to walk in their shoes.


[This poem was first performed with Josh Blakk on the guitar and vocals on Wednesday,24th October,2012  at Smoothy's,Osu,Ghana. During the fifth Ehalakasa Festival.]

THIRTEEN WAYS OF LOOKING AT A MONDAY

I

Among my plenty cosy dreams,

The only busy thing

Was the hand of the Monday.

II

I was then of a busy mind,

Like a bee

To which there are eternal Mondays.

III

The Monday morning bustle in the quiet streets.

It was a small part of the working week.

IV

A Kojo and an Adjoa

Are one.

A Kojo and an Adjoa and Monday

Are one.

V

I do not know which to prefer,

The duty of moderations.

Or the beauty of stress,

With Monday listening

Or worse after.

VI

Noise outside the office window,

Blocked by the window pane.

The fallow of Monday

Tossed around, in and out.

The mood traced in the fallowness

An unacceptable loss

VII

O people of Ghana,

Why do you love Fridays?

Do you not see how Monday

Walks around and greets

With hard work around you?

VIII

I know principled businesses

And coherent, inescapable productiveness;

But I know, too,

That Monday is involved

In what I know.

IX

When the Monday crew is out of might,

It knocks off the wedge

Of the lazy cycles.

X

At the sight of Mondays

Crawling under the street lights,

Even the royals of indolence

Would bow down frighteningly.

XI

He drove during the weekend

In a sleek convertible.

Once, his gear tricked him,

In that he mistook

The speed of his vehicle

For Mondays.

XII

The traffic is not moving

Monday must be ending

XIII

There was work all day

There was activity

And it was about to end

Monday now sighed

Its relief in bed

‎This was written in response to 'The 13 Ways Challenge' at People Of Equal Thoughts & Spirit [P.O.E.T.S]’s Facebook group wall.

Through the inspiration of Poetra Ama Asantewa, as well Tiffany Cybrie Howard.
The challenge was based on the poem “Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A BlackBird” by Wallace Stevens. I intentionally chose to mimic the structure.

 I chose to write with 'Monday' in title because I wrote it on the  *13th* day of June,2011 which was a *Monday*,and lastly because my name is Kojo (born on a Monday).

A MADMAN'S NIGHTMARE

Silent beauty pervades his unconsciousness
Gradually taking over...

There he stands in a field of healing
Unaware of how wounded he is.

He savours the breeze
Blowing with a calmly fierceness
Filling his lungs with the cold fire
Set ablaze by the side effects
Of the drugs they gave him.

This medication
Is messing up his meditation.
His sanity is being compromised.

Because the focus of his mind is
Bent on becoming someone
Other than who he is.

As the very thoughts of himself
Are pinned down
And are seductively dragged
Into a jagged abyss
Where he will be shut away
From himself
For a long time.

He realizes that it is almost too late
To do anything...

But suddenly he awakes!
Panting painfully
As he's greeted with
A different kind of silence
Which slowly suffuse
Into his consciousness.
He sighs...
Then inhales...
Then exhales,as he whispers
"These bastards!
They are trying to make me sane again."

[Written between 1045hrs & 1122hrs 9/10/2012 ]