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Paul's Poems

 

And Here We Are Again

And here we are again

With our necks hoisted

Into that cunning loop;

Here we are again

With our thoughts programmed

To sing and celebrate our follies;

Indeed, here we are again

Ebracing with grace

These thoughtless hallelujahs. 

 

And here we are again singing

in our mind's hearts the unsung

songs of unanswered questions.

Here we are again tapping our foots 

to unrhythmic rhythms of songs trapped 

in our hearts and minds; oh here we are again

with this fairytale of time immemorial.

 

Paul Bingah

Abansi

December 27, 2022

Afuli Gã Aɖe Dò Kpitii

Afuli gã aɖe dò kpitii, eye

Xexiame kekeŋ tsɔ̃ fukpee;

Nukpɔkpɔ tso adzɔge 

Hã zu agba gã aɖe nam;

Nye ŋkuwo katã tsí

Eye mètsí dutoƒo;

Nɔvi, megale egblɔm be

Nukpɔkpɔ tso adzɔge

Megali nam gbeɖe o;

Yetsi dutoƒo amewo

Le kokom abe abunɛtɔe 

Yezu le wodome ene.

 

Paul Bingah

04/11/2022

Abansi

When One Day We Unmute

When one day we unmute

the trapped voices in our heads

and restore the crescendo of

the soundtrack in our hearts,

the trembling effects of the vibrating noise 

will send a cold shiver through their stubborn spines.

That's why when we sing our songs,

we'll weave our voices

into smooth melodious tunes

to soothen the ears of their yearning hearts.

 

Paul Bingah

11-10-2022

Abansi

 

Swooping From Afar

 

Like the hawk we swoop from afar

In the nick of time

We clutch the rose with our claws

And in our ecstatic mood

We fail to cuddle with care

the beautiful pink and white flower

So, its prickly thorns, prick our talons.

The beginning of our shipwreck. 

 

Like the hawk we swoop from afar

And in our innocence

We embrace the niceties of the rose

Yet we fail to remember how

the beautiful winding viper

dwells in the sweet smelling flower

So, in the nick of time,

We are stung with its poisonous fangs.

The climax of our shipwreck. 

 

Paul Bingah

Legon

2002

 

Ever Since Our Seeds

Ever since our seeds have been trapped

deep into the wombs of our fragile mothers

We have learned to swing and twist

our tender frames to these tragic 

and horrible tunes of our time.

 

We have learned to dance looking into the skies

Searching for miracles to mirror our eyes

yet have never found the guiding lights.

 

The dance of our time

Has left a dense dust

Blurring our vision with mist

And we see figures that a bleak

Yet, we must dance and dance and dance.

Never to find our paths again?

 

Paul Bingah

15-06-2010

New Delhi - India

We Live, Die, and Leave Live

 

We live, die, and leave to live;

Switching on and off our

Memoirs of pain and joy,

Stitching here and there our

Tattered clothes of hope and load,

Bringing back the aching ecstasy 

Of dreams belonging to yesteryears,

Chancing the fits and starts to grow

From dreams with dream to dreams;

We live, die, and leave to live.

 

(Paul Bingah, 2017)

Dream to Me

Deep within my heart,

Far beyond my comprehension,

When your shining moons glare and stare

At me with tender softness,

In my spirits of hallucinating thoughts,

You are a dream to me.

 

You are a dream to me,

When I look you deep in the eyes

And dance you in my imaginative bossom

To boil and awaken our sleeping bloods to life.

You are a dream to me,

When I dream dreams of dreams.

 

The stars in your face,

Are things to watch and love.

Beauty beyond beauties,

That pinch and pain,

The core of the loveliest heart.

 

Deep within my heart,

Far beyond my comprehension,

You are a dream to me;

A dream story we must tell.

 

Paul Bingah

New Delhi-India. July, 2010

Tsɔɛ̃vi Menye

Tsɔɛ̃vi menye mina manɔ miadome

Tsɔɛ̃vi menye mina manɔ miadome

Tsɔɛ̃vi menye mina manɔ miadome

Agbenɔxevi metsia fū mato o

Manɔ miadome.///

 

//Koenye la wɔmi

Yeye

Koenye la wɔmi godoo

Gbeɖeka pɛ.//

 

Eʋe folk song

Alea Wolea?

 

Kukue wònye yèda ɖe dzi

Ne ameaɖe be esɔ yea; nedui

Nenem xexea zu.

Xexea gblẽ, gbetɔ gblẽ

Nyui di na amenɔvi vɔ kekeŋ

Ameaɖeke mega le nyui dim na nɔvia azɔ o

Ye ɖeɖe tɔ̀ ko nenyoe xɔ xexea azɔ.

 

Hesinɔ Kɔmla be:

Nyui di na amenɔvi vɔ kekeŋ

Ameaɖeke mega le nyui dim na nɔvia azɔ o

Ye ɖeɖe tɔ̀ ko nenyoe xɔ xexea azɔ.

 

Mele gbɔgblɔm be:

Kukue wònye mèda

Ne ameaɖe be esɔ yea; nedui

Nenem xexea zu 

Agbenɔ xexea gblẽ, agbetɔ gblẽ

Nyui di na amenɔvi vɔ kekeŋ.

 

Paul Bingah

FRANCO;13th April, 2021

I Am a Singer-Bird

 

I am a singer-bird

Weaving un-nameable tunes

Give me the Leech Therapy

Inject your anterior sucker

Bite into my blood stream

Suck this pure blood in me

Secrete your curative enzyme

And with that anesthetic hirundin

Cure my swollen swells

Paul Bingah, New Delhi - India.

12th December, 2010

Dream to Me 

Deep within my heart,

Far beyond my comprehension,

When your shining moons glare and stare

At me with tender softness,

In my spirits of hallucinating thoughts,

You are a dream to me.

 

You are a dream to me,

When I look you deep in the eyes

And dance you in my imaginative bossom

To boil and awaken our sleeping bloods to life.

You are a dream to me,

When I dream dreams of dreams.

 

The stars in your face,

Are things to watch and love.

Beauty beyond beauties,

That pinch and pain,

The core of the loveliest heart.

 

Deep within my heart,

Far beyond my comprehension,

You are a dream to me;

A dream story we must tell.

 

Paul Bingah

New Delhi-India. July, 2010

Dzogbe Ta Gã 

 

Dzogbe ta gã ɖe nye ya menye loo

Ne mekue adeawo xanu looo

'Yata manɔ tsatsam n'adeawo neva kum no

Gbeke meku looo, adeawo xanu looo

'Yata manɔ tsatsam n'adeawo neva kum no

Gbeke meku looo, adeawo xanu looo

Kwami Sedanu  translated it thus:

I am a big stream in the savanna. 

When I die, hunters will grieve.

That's why I'll keep flowing

for hunters to quench their thirst

because the day I die, hunters will grieve. 

 

Ewe folk song.

We Were Made to Learn 

 

We were made to learn dancing their jitterbug 

So we can put aside our Gbolo, Asiko and Nigbanigba;

To their joy we found joy in their confused drumbeats

To their joy we passed our rhythmic rythms for devil's possessions;

So our Gbolo, Asiko, and Nigbanigba are now  for us fetishistic

And to their joy their jitterbug for us is heavenly 

With angelic wings which can only transport us 

To the promised land made for only their dance.

 

Paul Bingah

Abansi. 18th May, 2022

And When We Finally Come Back Home

Trying to relive the dreams of our childhood yearnings

We look here and there to find those peers of time gone

But find only those graves greeting our sights

While those alive we find wither with hunger;

Then the eyes of our minds look back

And the tears of our hearts recall

The joy-pain of our youthful yearnings

Now lost in the dark over time.

 

Paul Bingah

31st March, 2022

And Here We Are Again
Afuli Ga
When One Day We Unmute
Swooping From Afar
Ever Since Our Seeds
We Lie, Die
Dream to Me
Tsoevi Menye
Alea Wolea
I Am a Singer-Bird
Dream
Dzogbe Ta Ga
We Were Made To Learn
And When We Finally Come Back Home
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