Teyumbar Misfit

Dear Ghana

I don’t know where to start from. How does one say goodbye after promising that they’d never leave. Leaving. That Was always going to come, but I never intended that it be forever, but now, here I find myself, miles away from you without a way back. Not because I lost my way, but because you are silent. Because you’re trees and seas, you’re music, you’re history. In these manifestations you say little on my behalf. I can hear nothing from this far out. All I see is your indifference. it is hard to keep a promise to one who doesn’t see me. Ghana, you don’t see me. And so I cannot come and let loyalty kill me. And so I didn’t leave, I ran away. To seek refuge in another kind of struggle. To make my home another land. To miss you every day, and in some moments contemplate what could be possible if you loved me just a little.

Dear Ghana, it is toxic. To crave the very thing that inhabits poison. And yet I carry a dull ache for you in my heart. A longing for all I have known. Of everything that I used to call home. Dear Ghana, I am a cast out. I am denied, ostracized, criminalized. I am curse, I am an abomination, I am insufferable. My pain is numbed by anger. Bile rising from my stomach, tearing me asunder. I am bursting from rage from the rape, the murder, the pillaging. And all the blessings showered on the damaging. Of the hopelessness in the future. Of the flatness in the air. Of having nothing good to write about. Of having nothing good to pray about. Of having nothing true to believe in. Of realizing that truth can be deceiving. I just want to be alone and left alone. I just want to come and go as I please. I just want to be one of many, who journey forth to return. Who can speak of peace and mean it.

But what is Peace to the likes of me? Who have to do battle in order to be free? Fated to win my heritage through blood and toil. With no good name to defend. With no god to offer help.

Dear Ghana, what is to become of you? What will become of us? What will time tell? Will it be of my numbness, my apathy? Will you be needing me at a point where I gha-nathing for you?

Ampomah felt like a picture
The smells of Eric’s house
Each place you rest your eyes bursting with detail
soft earthiness…

Dinner was very charming
great company, and excellent food,
Then eyes and dreadlocs.
A very interesting person walks in and I can tell he’s been undressing me in his mind.
Kinda like that very bad man atop the tractor did in Anyima once upon a time.
And I want him too… I feel a bubble burst between my legs,
I laugh with guilt then turn to my lover
Then he missed his flight, and for a week-end, we got to sniff around each other. 
And spend time, and make photographs.
And flirt hard
I showed him my body…
He prepared a hot shower
Eyes lingered where lips longed
And yet we were both courteous.
He had a girlfriend back home
And I lived with my partner
Finally, with countries lying between us,
We confessed our lust, and we parted friends

Until next time, I hope.

A Stoner Haze

Sweet sour licorice

I’m smoking on my bowl

Sweet Sharlene

Soothe the pain

Abi you for know

Each day it gets complicated

Is this truly real?

Or a farce well fabricated

A distraction while they steal?

I am torn and devastated

And yet I feel whole and new

I am heady and frustrated

But I know these days are few

I want so much

But take so little

I dare not say what I need

Is to do good, myself deny

So I can reap from this seed?

So much so much with all my heart

For ever I want to be yours

But peace is bland and love is chaos

And we’re both full of flaws

revisiting locomotion
In my mind, I plant a “you” notion.
You, you, you , you
on and on and on and on

Word on the street, you got the potion
And the power to turn me on
Baby, for you I’ll cross the ocean
And love you all night long

Yes, I’m revisiting locomotion
When we moved our hips in the dark
Your fingers teaching composition
And leaving a trail of sparks

I want to play the beginning in slow motion
And skip right over the end
Because honey, if there’s no motion
Then I’d rather not pretend

With the earth eternally in motion
My love, with me, stand still
I’ll be your anchor through this commotion
And hold on till I can’t feel

This is a jump back into locomotion
Hoping to find you here
At the heart’s central station
Hoping this time we’ll conquer fear.

Originally posted by angelkarafilli

Since I am a flower lover, this is a very sorry story. a beautiful white lily sight-seeing space will be destroyed to keep people from crowding. How dare Corona!
I’m wondering when the situation will end. 

The earth is self-cleansing from the harm done by selfish people and society; we need to open our minds widely. If movement conditions get better , I’d like to go and see the beautiful lilies

Originally posted by jil-ma

People to grow old with

It’s the weekend of the first week in March. So I am still feeling celebratory because there’s still some birthday in the air.

My friend’s got me gifts (S.O to Adeaba and my Drama Queens chosen family. I felt special)

It’s midnight. Officially Sunday. Sitting with loved ones at a lovely weekend get away… I am feeling older. 23 has kicked in… And what it asks of me feels ambitious

23 wants me to build roots. And focus… And relearn the discipline to handle the maturity needed to be 23. It asks me to be less selfish but, now more than ever, not to be a martyr… It tells me not to be afraid; the secret to growth is not to panic.

So… I needn’t panic (how do you do that?) I mustn’t panic (try not to get a heart attack)

Living life… Is a long winding catastrophe.

Be as good as you can. Earn ten times what you pay for booze.

Life is a warm garden filled with Jasmine trees and lemongrass. Let the smell fill your senses, breathe in deeply through your skin.

Life is an ocean.

…………………………… Don’t drown

My need for you is casual.
And, please don’t think it’s not.
I tell you this with my lips
Even when I hug your hips
And bury my face in the folds of your back

Your body is like a landscape I saw somewhere
it rolls, and folds… there are patches that tell stories
They’re the part I want to stop at a while longer
And think of the entirety of you
past, present, future

I want to go to school
The School of You
I would like you to teach,
please,
How I can truly please you.

You say you fear me
I know you probably should
Because I am not a good person
To my core, I know this
Few of us are

But then there’s you
Who makes me want to believe
that, this could be untrue.

But here we are…
In the rapidly beating heart of Accra
I am enraptured,
I am captivated
Every cell is alert and turned in live

In the beating heart of Accra
We are two women
One better than the other
And doomed all the same

I want you
Especially when I’m high
And I can’t really deny myself
But I want you casually.
So I keep this to myself

Because I know I’m a bad person
And I want to learn to do good things.

Originally posted by siyahucurtmalar

Because it’s a good time for reflections, I’m taking a break to look at myself. I am finding that a good, honest perspective of one’s self is complex to accomplish. Like tuning a projector’s sharpness. I’m running away from beginning this in this line and I hope that my acknowledgment of this helps me steer back on course.

2019
I arrived on this shore on the brink of breaking. In mid-February, i finally broke. Yet another relationship had failed and i was even further behind than where i started. I didn’t let myself brood. Lessons repeat as needed.

Work
Sucked
Ass
A whole beaurocraxy sitting on a nest of negative madness. A place where no one was happy. A place where every dead-end decision opened my eyes to the chaos and confusion on the brink of explosion. I quit in August

August
Like the one before it found me
A free agent. But this time, a happy one. A less frantic one. And at the same time, a more burdened one. I’m teaching the Japs English online. And taking in some design gigs.

School
Don’t wanna talk about it.

Drama Queens
We’re growing and I’m finding/defining my space within us. i am slowly retreating into doing less. I am very exhausted and, frankly, a bit restless… a tad dissatisfied. I feel like the other shoe doesn’t exist. i don’t thrive in suspense. I don’t think i do… Nor limbo…

Love
I’m not sure what that is and i want to not call any of my feelings this word. I have failed horribly. I am loving all over the place. I am loving in confusion. I may have hurt people. I am with someone now. He’s also like those before. Bound to leave. We’re supposed to be together for 6 months. Because i wanted a relationship with a duration. Because i kinda know I don’t really know what i want. But i know i want to be his and him mine for 6 months. I am trying not to think beyond that. But, you know me…

Reflections…
I moved out.
I paid 2 Years upfront
I moved to Osu
I moved to make more money
I lost so much this year
I need to work next year
Hard
.

I’m quitting weed tomorrow.
I am convinced it’s integral to my indiscipline

David and I made up. But we’re not talking again presently. I think it’s because I have a boyfriend. Or maybe we’re only good for each other in the smallest of doses.

I met two friends I’ve been texting for about two years in person. We shared short, happy memories and they were everything and more than i imagined.

I kept a big secret from my friends. Well, all but two.

Is this an account or a reflection?
It’s a poor account and I… Don’t know if i know how to reflect.

8, 7 minutes to new years

2020. Many 20/20 jokes and vision
it sucks

This year will suck

Internet

Tether me to this waste

Till my feet are wet

Yes, i cannot feel my face

Nor my regrets

No, its not been a good day

I wish i can forget

Maybe instead I should pray

Inshallah

These feet are tired

And yet inshallah

These dolls are wired

Here i dance on

To a cringing lullaby

My life is torn

To this world i want to say good bye

And yet i hold on

For what else is truly mine

For this i was born

Someday surely i shall die

This line must end with “mourn”

Because its sadness and it rhymes

But I’m without form

As tall as this stanza climbs

I miss simple

Was there ever really such a time

In this wrinkle

This life should be a crime

It is torture

This sublime slow decay

It is torture

For lack of something else to say

I wanna make love

For the rest of my life

And then i wake up

With you as my wife

But that is stupid

For tomorrow i shall want something else

My dreams are lucid

I should keep them to myself

I love you

With the emptiness of this shell

I love blue

Like the high flames in hell

What i am doing

Is something i am not sure of

But your misconstruing

Perhaps may be close enough