Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah Poems

Living in the a London flat
in one of the coldest wintertime
and Ariel, your ship,
ahead on the sea
...

I heard you coming in from behind the door
without your feet rustling in the dry leaves.
...

'Fools are always fools-

nothing can wash them clean, not even pools.'
...

dear you
having obtained my lunatic certificate
i discovered that i must die
of exhaustion at the end
...

24 hours GMT
in a hole of a wound...traffic...redlighglows...
how many TIME to look...(snowy grave) ...
so that at every decorated
...

Where did they carried your shadow
a frozen bed
among headlight seeds?
...

I hate a horse looking at me.
He leads me into an enclosed body
almost mine, where there is no light or darkness,
no sound or silence, I am locked in
...

No Stalins. No Mussolinis. No Marxist heads,
or Nietzsche's heads, or Luther's heads.
No masks. No fancy dressing.
No placards. No banners. No graffiti.
...

An incandescent lava fountain,
a summer of strange, dry fog
settling over large parts of the Northern Hemisphere,
the sun turns bloodred.
...

Smoky fog

in the living memory.
...