IN THE BEGINNING

In the beginning
When the uprising
Was a baby in the cradle
I was there.
When it began crawling
Growing big and flexing
Its muscles, I was there.
When the uprising outgrew
Its normal size
And became a monster
Wanting to swallow me
For its morning meal
I had no choice
But to fly with the wind.

— Monrovia/April 94

THE CRYING OLD MAN

Propelled by the energetic
Force of love mixed with frustration,
This frail old man,
Wrapped in a flowing white gown,
Cane in one hand to keep his balance,
Eyes filled with running tears,
Body overcome by fatigue,
Challenged the threat of darkness
Of these uncertain times.
Falling and rising like a blind hunter,
Looking for his only son
Who, fearing the harsh penalty
Of staying out too late
Made a bed in the thrown out boxes
Sleeping soundly like a liberated man.

— Monrovia/93

IN THE LAND OF MY FATHER’S BIRTH

in the land of my father’s birth
in the land of my mother’s birth
oh yes, in this land of my birth,
they say i can’t be elected,
even if i am tested,
and happen to pass
all the tests.

they say i am Liberia's equivalent of blacks in America
they say i am Liberia's equivalent of jews in America
they say i am Liberia's equivalent of blacks in apartheid South Africa
because they don't see beyond my ethnicity
no, they won't accept me for equality
but who am i, a second class citizen?

what if i am qualified to do the job
what if i have all the right credentials for the job
what if i pass honesty and credibility tests for the job
am i still not qualified because of ethnicity?
why make judgements because of simplicity?
won't you be flexible to give me the chance?
aren't you ready to embrace the winds of change?

be proud of who you are
let me be proud of who i am
let all be proud of who they are
but let's bend a little, in this age of enlightenment
and make room for each other with honest engagement.
your ethnicity is not better than mine
and mine is not better than yours.

in this age of enlightment
in this age of global engagement
we must prioritize management qualities
and work for collective insurance
against the backwardness of massive ignorance
peace be unto you brothers
peace be unto you sisters
even to those of you denying me
my fair share of justice in the land of my birth.

— Philadephia '02

POLITICAL PARTY LINE

My gift as a writer
And the independence
To express it
Cannot be surrendered
To any political boss.
That's why I'm not a member
Of a political party
Which may want to control
What I see and how I see it
What I say and how I say it
What I do and how I do it.
Let the politicians
Join political parties
And let me just write about them
Doing their things
And how they do it
In daylight and darkness.

— East Landowne/02

MY FATHER'S LAST PRAYER

He was the kind of father
Whose love for his children was deeper
Than all the oceans combined,
Though he did not weave that love
Into a suit that we could wear proudly.
We have loving mothers (his four wives)
Whose motherly love nurtured us
To be the strong men and women
We have grown to be.
Since we could not fashion his love
Into a crown that we could wear with pride,
We doubted if he ever loved us.
As he approached his final hours
I discovered this hidden love
I could not see all those years.
He wrapped this love with sincere prayer
Placed it in my hands and told me
To share it with my brothers and sisters.
While I felt elevated to the seventh sky
That he had finally crowned me,
I felt guilty for holding back the love
That I should have embraced him with
All because of feeling under-loved
When he was well and alive.
While I dutifully cared for him on his dying bed
The feeling of not being loved
Stood an invisible wall between us
Till he demolished it with his last words of prayer.

— New York City/96