before the gods
emerged
feet
engraved in sand –
engraved in sand –
below the
tower watch, we pray
tower watch, we pray
before
you succumb to doom
you succumb to doom
momma
look around
look around
we seek
your embrace
your embrace
perch
past the shadows of death
past the shadows of death
massaging
the heart of
the heart of
men,
follow it’s trail
follow it’s trail
the sky
is falling,
is falling,
yet again
stars
tattoo our arms reminiscent
tattoo our arms reminiscent
of your
final request
final request
a letter from Nola (2018)
first, one cracks then
penetrates a ruby shell
penetrates a ruby shell
an outcaste artist
parleys, breaks as well
parleys, breaks as well
freedom’s causalities
slings lyrical dope,–
slings lyrical dope,–
the levy mourns hope,
but continues to flood
streets,
streets,
it’s neighbor continues
to burn, baybe
to burn, baybe
an outer crust remains
tarnished
tarnished
jaded as distant memory
an array of pastel
buildings
buildings
recount catastrophic
events
events
thumbing
her pain –
her pain –
time recoils history
a symphony of horns
escape
escape
forgotten lips, here they come
marching
in, an
allusive spunk once sung
in, an
allusive spunk once sung
whodat
natives of common land
natives of common land
cemeteries float – past
poverty line
poverty line
tourist lounge within
French quarters’
French quarters’
salivating over Café Du
Monde beignets
Monde beignets
while the bayou reeks
of summer 1964
of summer 1964
recollections of the Gold Coast
I am we, the dream
resurrected
regaining one’s sense of essence
the case trial and verdict
guilty of all counts
sentiments chanted in ruin towns
residing in fear – religion frightens
sapped souls
while faith breeds eternal forgiveness
i am we, a tired fist peering through
night
night
capturing fearless panthers
piercing roars
a movement, an off spring of kin
united we stand but man cling’s
on fears, the unknown, an illusion,
separating mankind from humanity
I am we, Cape Coast where tender hands
were battered into dusty stones
subjected to oppressors castles
i am we
where Ghanaians were forced
out the Door
Of No Return,
Of No Return,
alone I am, scarred faces
inhale pain riddled off
tortured backs, I am we,
Biography:
Kofi Antwi is a writer of poetry, nonfiction, and fiction. A graduate from St. Joseph’s College MFA Creative Writing program, Kofi teaches English at St. Joseph’s College. The prolific writer was born in Brooklyn and raised in Staten Island by parents of Ghanaian descent. His poetry has been published by, Agbowo, Writers Guild, Aaduna, and Luna.
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