Paul's Poems
And Here We Are Again
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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
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Afuli Gã AÉ–e Dò Kpitii
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Afuli gã aÉ–e dò kpitii, eye
Xexiame kekeŋ tsɔ̃ fukpee;
Nukpɔkpɔ tso adzɔge
Hã zu agba gã aÉ–e nam;
Nye Å‹kuwo katã tsí
Eye mètsí dutoƒo;
Nɔvi, megale egblɔm be
Nukpɔkpɔ tso adzɔge
Megali nam gbeÉ–e o;
Yetsi dutoƒo amewo
Le kokom abe abunɛtɔe
Yezu le wodome ene.
Paul Bingah
04/11/2022
Abansi
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When One Day We Unmute
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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
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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
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Ever Since Our Seeds
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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
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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)
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Dream to Me
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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
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Tsɔɛ̃vi Menye
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Tsɔɛ̃vi menye mina manɔ miadome
Tsɔɛ̃vi menye mina manɔ miadome
Tsɔɛ̃vi menye mina manɔ miadome
Agbenɔxevi metsia fū mato o
ManÉ” miadome.///
//Koenye la wɔmi
Yeye
Koenye la wɔmi godoo
GbeÉ–eka pÉ›.//
EÊ‹e folk song
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Alea Wolea?
Kukue wònye yèda É–e dzi
Ne ameaÉ–e be esÉ” 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 ameaÉ–e be esÉ” yea; nedui
Nenem xexea zu
Agbenɔ xexea gblẽ, agbetɔ gblẽ
Nyui di na amenɔvi vɔ kekeŋ.
Paul Bingah
FRANCO;13th April, 2021
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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
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Paul Bingah, New Delhi - India.
12th December, 2010
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Dream to Me
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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
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Dzogbe Ta Gã
Dzogbe ta gã É–e nye ya menye loo
Ne mekue adeawo xanu looo
'Yata manÉ” tsatsam n'adeawo neva kum no
Gbeke meku looo, adeawo xanu looo
'Yata manÉ” tsatsam n'adeawo neva kum no
Gbeke meku looo, adeawo xanu looo
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Kwami Sedanu translated it thus:
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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.
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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
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And When We Finally Come Back Home
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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
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