Posts Tagged ‘SPORTS’


Take-my-hand-feel-my (1)





(to Director of Omilos Eksipiretiton, Mrs. Klairi Lykiardopoulou (1931-2015))


We shall live

We shall die

And should either happen

Love was greater.



Someone has to be bold

to stand the rains and defeat the ruins.

Someone has to be King

to decide good over evil

and plant Kingdoms in civilized patterns.

Someone has to be a woman in fur a coat

to obey the weakness in me,

so non shall woo my emotions into distress.

Someone should not die in war

for the coward to hymn its muse

as brevity of warriors,

are not meant for the worms.

Someone must find love in religion

to keep the Magistrates pidgin

and to tell of the epiphany.

Someone should judge beauty

in a pageant of monkeys and baboons

to laugh yourself away.

Someone should be a villain

for peace to prevail

so as to bail our tribes from the boots of traitors.

Someone should be for family

to stand for the trials

when the fist of the team are broken

and the mystery knots seem too difficult to untie.

Someone should be remembered

on what he lived for

as stars cannot shine without darkness.


Someone, and just all of us

Should hail seasons that age

but draws midnight memories

of either laughter or mourning


We shall live

We shall die

And should both happen

Love was greater.


Copyright © 2015-05-14

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah

(World Empowered Youth Poet 2013/National Youth Achiever in Literary Arts/Kostis Palamas Poetry Prize Winner/World Peace and Cultural Ambassadorial Award Winner/Director-World Poetry Canada and Reading Series/Member-Omilos Eksipiretiton/Author of This Sweet Name Like Magic Has Made Me)


This is how my story began

The symptom of my bitterness

The devourer of my firm spirit

The undue stain of my virtue right

That makes me cry myself to sleep.


It was a June morning

Moms kiss on my forehead was poor

Her skin looked dry in a wrapped perfumed cloth

Though “shea-butter” cream was an ally in our straw hut

She looked unbridled by the frowned wrinkles

And had worn her anniversary gown and a wig hat

To that unusual bright and sunny hour

She looked unperturbed by the fact that, the compound had not been swept

Nor the barrels filled with the first tears of the stream

It was such a strange dream

And an infant day to have weird thoughts

On that lazy mat of mine


We only heard Papa’s name was “Forster”

He had divorced Mama during our early teens

I was the eldest amongst five children

A lady with vibrating limbs and skinny piercing physique

purposed to stand as a man for my siblings

Papa’s shadow was the scarcity sight in our home

As we grew younger and older

dearer and poorer without a fatherly clove of love.



This is how my story began

The symptom of my bitterness

The devourer of my firm spirit

The undue stain of my virtue right

That makes me cry myself to sleep


In my awakening by the cockerel’s crow

After succumbing to that bitter dream

about my mother,

I walked to Mama’s door

And knocked to hear her deep responsive voice

But silence had eluded her.


“A funeral under a leaking roof”.

The symptom of my bitterness

The devourer of my firm spirit

The undue stain of my virtue right

That makes me cry myself to sleep


We cried and tore pieces of our clothes

And painted a mood of bitterness

to deaths’ venom bite

I then understood the prophetic passage

I encountered in that mid-night dosage of sleep

And I wept and we slept in miscarriage,

As I had been welcomed to the hill

Where many had died on


This is where my story began

The decisive point of strength or failure.


Copyright © 22-02-2017

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah

aka Poet et Cetera


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


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