Little diva
She loves to sing and so do I call her
Quiet and at all times with laughter
My first female friend on campus
She 'Nicky! ' lovely calls me
A name forever I wanna hear
Closer than ever imagined
Pal to my best pals, same route plied
My home she knows and hers up the quaky hill
Berverly it is in the city
An envy to many and my name forgotten
Before the world she sings
And under the cursed tree her voice heard
A melody that soothes many hearts
'Sup nicky, so long? ' My eyes with tears filled
Four winters ago and a day it seems
When again I come across the old path
There will I see you my dear friend
And for eternity I long in hope
Li'le diva will come my way
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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No More Friends
I loved my friend and my friend loved me as well
In my downfall his eyes with tears did swell
Always by his side with laughter as in the time of the spell
Like young puppies we were and a perfection of number
Down the hill by the beach…
…And by the foul lake in love with soccer
On the bridge we stand and watch the lighthouse; a beautiful tower
Together in worship among the saints as blessings on us did shower
Yet along the joyful path an angel amongst us was set
A female angel with the look as sweet as the sunset
With me she was and at the autumnal equinox was she not found absent
“To you my love, to you alone was I sent”
…
How the love for one girl can split the best of friends
Such a shame!
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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His Passion
A whistle blown as down he went
An enemy had done that, whom he never knew
A scarlet shown and away an opponent goes in shame
To walk he cannot and to run, time to come
On the pitch he gets hurt
His bone greatly hurting and every muscle with pain
The joy in him, no pain ever too strong
"When shall I recover", he prays, to the green turf?
"Yet again will I score more great goals"
To play on the old fields of Trafford
And by the bridge of Stanford
To play with the red devils and against the white angels
Just to hear the cops cheer and scream his name
"d'nho! d'nho! ! d'nho! ! ! '"
The love he feels, the love never given
His passion in all of life unfold
to ronaldinho, best ever!
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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She Loves Him
He sees her when she leers seductively
Of all maidens in the cottage he saw her lovely
He was a friend to all yet a little to her, shy
She liked him and he knew not why
She asks, "For me a cho'late, would you buy? "
For her the oceans he would cross sightlessly
He knew much well; a smile wry
"I love you, Jessie" he said, never heard with ears
"Do you, really? Please tell me why? ! "
A feeling my heart has lived on these year
Against their love were many; did leave hearts to tear
Elope! He would've with her to the cold hills
To a distant land of the unknown deserts
Never to return, never to love again- she scribes
And ever seeks broken within, never an auxiliary…ever relentless!
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Vivacious valence
Adorned in red rosy garment she struts
Gently down the slopes she descends
Blown in the wind, her long glowy hair spreads
Let the honey bee stop her honey making;
For she is sweeter
Let the termite stop his building;
For she is stronger
Let also the lilies stop gleaming in the rays;
For she is much more beautiful
And the mocking bird, her singing
For her voice is as the melody
The melody of a myriad angels singing from a distance
She is as a child, comely and so adorable
Her beauty is cherished among the heavenlies
Helen looks up at her from the underneath
Awe, metamorphosizes speedily into jealousy
Then into anger, plunges!
But let her be!
For now is her moment
And let her gleam
[...] Read more
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Hannie
Once saw I a goddess pass before my dwelling
Into her eyes I stared and a smile wry got
The image of her beauty ever carved in my heart
Her voice I never knew, and to her name was I a stranger
After the harvest I saw her pass again
My net hard to pull and a little boat nearly overturning
Fishing in the little waters, so shallow for a pony to get across
She came, stood by the bank and asked for a fish
The loveliest of ocean dwellers did I give unto her
With a smile well paid and a look to which I still owe
When again shall I behold her beauty?
And when would the sweetest of voices send music down my heart?
Till next harvest, till the honeycomb shall drip
And the baby birds learn to flap in the breeze
Till the gods again visit us
And the immortals amongst men, come!
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Plea
How shall he begin to say this?
His pride scares him off
As a mighty man it stands before him, he’s so afraid
He knows, he needs not be squeamish
Neither needs he be grumpy
For perhaps his friendship was just smarminess in sunshine
He’s ashamed and cannot stare in the eyes of the angel
Each smile reveals his weakness;
Her laughter, his latent pain
How shall he begin to say “I’m sorry? ”
She’s vivacious, intelligent, dutiful and attractive
But what is he...
Nasty, irresponsible, carefree, kiddy and yielding
How could he…let her in whom he found joy down?
How could he, paid back good with evil?
He is sorry!
Do not leave him here, in oblivion and in obsession
Forgive him and let the soul within him be healed!
…as we forgive those who trespass against us… Luke 11: 4.
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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She Sleeps
Let the rain fall
And the noise of it on the rooftops be heard
Let it come with the wind, let the wind blow swiftly
And let the trees cry ‘cos they're grieved by it
Let the breeze fill the chambers
And the cold embrace me; let it dry away my tears
Let me quake and not sleep
Let the mighty dark clouds assemble
And let fear fill the earth
Let the moon be darkened
And the stars be hidden; let them not shine
Let the sea be filled and let it run over its walls
Let the mighty waves roar as the waters be glad
Let the dreadful thunders be heard
And the lightening be heard from the east
Let the owls not fly
And the lionesses sleep by their cubes
Let them be still, for a mighty star is fallen
Fallen to rise no more
I see her, yet she sees me not
[...] Read more
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Paradise on the Rocks
I dwell in the mountains up high
Higher than the Petronas yet shy of Everest
In the land of the precious stones and rich shores
In the gold coast where the freedom for the black star began
In the land of oil and of greens where nature still lives
Love and freedom in this land are twins
Down the heights the people trade and mine
Men and birds soar over the rocky slopes with wings spread
As a hairy man, trees and grass cover nearly his entire face
Seen smiling he is, always, with eyes gleaming
The top of his head though not bald is clothed in white
Cloudy, misty and foggy intertwined with every branch
Up there, the air is pure and the herbs life
The ground is rich and the water mineral
The wind symphonic and the feels, oh dear, freezing…
This is where I dwell; this is where I am alive
My little place of harmony, my haven
I call this my paradise…my pied-à-terre
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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The Prodigal Son
My soul is grieved and my spirit in sorrow
My flesh is weak and I am without virtue
On my knees I stay as tears fill my eyes
That my eyes were a great ocean
Then will I flood the earth with my tears
And that my voice a thunder
Then will my cry be heard in the East
How am I backslidden? And how am I fallen?
How am I drawn back and plunged into such a depth?
A once mighty mountain was I
Now, here I lie, a threading of the oxen
A mire and pity of swine
Being driven away from the light
I stumble blindly in the dark
How could I have left royalty and bliss?
And now I live every moment from bleak to dismal
Being pulled down the slopes
I live without life in the valleys
There’s none to help and none to lift
I am sent into the fields where the abominable I do
[...] Read more
poem by Nicholas Boateng
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