To Rahmat Haidari and Sajia Hussain of Afghanistan


If our hopes and dreams

are not allies to the fertile passions

of our inner selves

but broken into junctures of silence-

our thoughts would be infertile

to the currency of art,

and stamp flakes on the page

of tomorrow’s history.


The dark shadows scar,

flare daunts

and haunting grief of disbelief

engraved on pure hearts

that have wills of self

and pleasures of gold

to the echo that fades

in lingering distance


The bitter path

has “condomized” my senses

to poor spectacles of the world’s beauty

and now,

I live in emptiness

I walk in a young day

I pray in the lost souls of time

For I am that unknown poet

Forgotten by the winds


Copyright © 20-04-2013

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah

aka Poet et Cetera


This Poem sings a song of empathy. I wrote this piece after watching the documentary on a young Afghan woman( poet)and her struggles to survive in the world of writing) trailer: 20 minutes, English subtitles.



Posted: February 17, 2018 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,

Savannah dry-

locusts and cankerworms

locked in jaws of drought.



Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah


A man who calls his kinsmen to a feast does not do so to redeem them from starving.

They all have food in their own houses.

We also gather together in the moonlight village ground,

not because of the moon’s boon

but we come together because it is good for Kinsmen or people

to do so. (Chinua Achebe, in his book, ‘Things Fall Apart)



It is amazing how cultures differ

Religions transform

Marriages cut borders

And human societies flourish


When I hear a Chinese speak

that is soothing enough to be a song

When I see a Japanese dance in mid-morning gong

that is rich food to satisfy an empty soul

from the grips of depression.


When I sit on a dinner table with a Panamanian

that is brewed taste of reggae love

and an echoing worship,

mildly singing “Love each other”


When I chance into Russians and Germans

there’s fine Vodka and Beer  away

summoning my instinct to keep coming back home for more


When I am home with an Italian couple

that is pure art of a rising sun

and an emotional spot for unmarried poems

who are yet  to taste the stanzas and rhymes of beauty


When fine art of lazing smoke

entraps my inquisitive nostrils

that’s a Cuban Cigar of magical wonder

attracting as the wealthy queen of Arabia

in dancing yonder


When you spot Elephants on the Chobe River

and the Makgadigadi pans experience rains

that’s a Batswana painting and sight as a Mona Lisa


When a Zambian is served an Nshima with an Ndiwo

that’s an expression of tales of hospitality and folklore

brewed from an African pot



When I stare in awe to the Samba by a Brazilian

that’s times way of healing in the most unbearable of pain


When you greet a Ni-Van and she responds unusually gently,

ask her about the meal she prepared for dinner

and if it is rice, then, there is famine in her home.


Wear the traditional canon of an Ethiopian shawl

and that’s a taste of elegance before the altar of prayer.


When I see a Kenyan on board a Delta Airlines flight

In snooze mode to America

that is another Obama in the making


When you fall in love with a Ghanaian

that’s immortality in the face of death

and a cure of depressed hunger



We came together for a grand feast

which exposed us to different traits and characters


Let’s recognize ourselves as a people

dealing with people

even in the scarcest of cultures and religion

as we might not know where another Obama could be born.


      Love Each Other.

                                           Keep on loving each other

                                                                                  As I could be the next Obama

                                                                                        ‘coz I felt in love with a foreigner of another land.


Copyright © 25-06-2017

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah 

aka Poet et Cetera

Written in Beijing-China during a 3 week seminar on Climate Change where I fell in love with the amazing people from different cultures and backgrounds.  Credit to Igwee of Kenya and all participants to the conference. It was nice seeing you all.


Shadows fill our day

fulfilling a lifelong of breath creeping our way

The sun prompts us of things undone

agonizing our knowledge of truths untold

The whistles of the trees arouse a feeling

bringing to men a great deal of healing

And those paired birds that fly,

clear doubts of questions unanswered in our homes

A life revealing dream marred by magnificent artfulness

of all things possible and of a hope unlimited

for all nature is good and soul refreshing

Every crow of the fowl ushers us into a new day

Those winds soothe our day and warm bodies

And the songs from the birds’ incite us into joy

That sweet name like magic has made me

Those fragrances of melodies had aroused me

And the melodies of love had filled my belly

Every night dawns into morning

All of grace, for it’s from Him who made them


Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah

aka Poet et Cetera

(Living in a world of Women and Laziness)


Remind me, La Gata!

Oh! Remind me

That the most beautiful fig

on Earth may contain a worm

Remind me in the abundance of food, air and water

so I do not slip into an Eve of destruction

Remind me in the lake of fire

and in the wake of life

that there is always a winner

even in a monkey’s beauty contest.


I wonder the looks of the Judges?


Remind me, La Gata

That, tomorrow is limitless to the wise

but a pitiless dry pit for the lazy one


he is like the vulture

who has fixed its nest in the echoes of oblivion

He is like the ignorant drunkard of dramatic sentiments

who says, “let us make merry,

for our pleasures does not lay in death”.

He is like the footprints

along the shores of the eroding oceans

un-desirous of painting history

in the potent fiber of posterity

He is like the chameleon

who finds the colors of each environment

and thus, dances to any rhythm of a dispersed song

He is uncommon to the commoner

and unworthy an elder before the table of proverbs

He is like the unworn garment

in a misers wardrobe

and a withering flower in the dry season

He is like the moustache and grey of a hair

that never grows due to alopecia barbae.

He is just of birth,  

and does not appreciate severity of famine


He thinks he is weak

and thus, will feed on the generosity of the farmer

He forgets that,

no partridge scratches the ground in search for food for another

as it is an insult to beg when one is healthy

He gives his stomach bad food

and thus, drum him to an unusual dance.



Do not speed past a mountain

thinking it is in motion

as you might be living in optical wonder of martial art.


Copyright ©159-02-2018

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah

aka Poet et Cetera


Posted: February 15, 2018 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , ,

In the game of shadows

The faintest pin drop

The silent whisper

A snorting snore

Is charmed to hope


A mirror of truth

Revered by light


Torch of liberty.


In the game of shadows

Light is King.


Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah

aka Poet et cetera



to Omilos Eksipiriteton, Servers’ Society, Greece

You will find joy
In the mid morning glory
When the path of light
Un-blind its eyes
Of the darkened gory

You will find rhythm
In the holy sieve
When the weary heart
Finds the anthem of peace
Beyond the oceans of stars

You will find cleansing
In the purest sea
When the dreadful stink
Charm thy godly body
Of past,
To healing of dance,
in the whispers now

You will find love
In the comfort bosom
When the silent air
Bore delight
In the groovy night
And magical spice
Of rainbow colors

You will find hope
You will find rest
In the brightest sun.

Copyright © 14-02-2018
Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah
aka Poet et Cetera