The creases and the scars are deeper than the Canyon grand. Than the path that the Ephesus has conjured.

One of these days, i am going to wake up a flower. Chorusing smiles of your eyes and. The deep interrogation they represent. Daring leaves a trail there,. It lends itself to me as a map. Of some of the most terrifying hopes. A man can be allowed to possess. It is there, that place where faith struts naked. It is that place that holds me. Presses me to the wall of my fears. And invites me to stay, without effort.

To Opened Eyes and Refined Souls. It never did quite seem like. One could go through the eye. Existing in a four-dimensional plane. Introduced one to a stranger sort of disintegration. While constantly falling down,. An all too familiar limbo. Which seems like it will be. Your only kind of existence, henceforth. But for the next 24,000 years.

Musings of a heart that is imperfect by default but glorious in hope.

A pop-culture, arts and science blog. Candidate Akufo Addo through His Campaign Posters, a Short Visual History. These pictures are to give a sense of what I am asserting. I could not find the 2008 poster. In 2008, NDC propaganda said that Nana Addo was a violent man. Their evidence? Election results John Evans Atta Mills won.

BARING OUT MY SOUL! I almost forgot how to live. I had the opportunity to work with and for an influential man. The experience was priceless but the cost I had to pay was too much. I loved my job but I was slowly killing myself working an average 12hours a day without rest. I quit two days ago. Most often I came home after midnight and I was grateful I had no nuclear family to come home to because they would hardly see me since I have to leave early in the morning for work and return late in the night.

For the power of voice. Kpodola is a digital portal for spoken word and poetry in and from Ghana. It seeks to elevate, harness and improve spoken word in the creative arts industry. Create a website or blog at WordPress.

It is a Monday which has the aroma of a roasted Saturday, Crisp and calm.

com My memories of you Are Sigils carved into my mind Chains wrought in the fires of t.

POEMS from Kpodola 10 Poetry Workshop. Asymp; Leave a comment. You used to be happy. And in those times I was happy too. The first time we woke up beside each other,. I remember your smile as you beamed good morning. I remember the selfies you looked so ugly in. I remember us laughing at your receding hairline. Then I remember the rain. I remember you looking down at the mud,. While I counted the raindrops. I remember the smile that was supposed to break,.