The Old Soldier Cobbler Poem by Kojo Owusu

Knotted breath – stale
Wearied bones clutching reedy sticks
Strikes hard the venerable wooden box
In agonized traumas
And the deserted street overgrown
Echo and re echo the crushing doom
The furious elephantine thud
Of the soul dead tread
Of the bullet legged man
Of valorous burden.

Eerie silence – dank
Entangled body – vile sandals
Of beads strapped on
His shoulders like
The deadly firing balls – box
Of metals for soles
A war bag – then
Crawling through
Primal paths bent double.

Immobile bones – wearied
Sought a bower on the
Clammy road as if laying
In ambush for any antique
Rusted souls.

Suppressed song – dire
Of deep violent recess
Blood infested tales stark
In his throat.


Drowsy wagtail on
A withered bough.
No solace in the past
The sun is dead, rivers
Are chocked with weeds
The forest is no more green
Mother earth is languishing
In agony and pain
No comfort for
Her son who’s soul is dead.