Peasant Souls on a Worthy Land
The creator was good to us
From the present, to the future dated from the past
Our possession of the land comes with a ticket
We hold the emblem of hope and our fingers fidget
We thrust our hands in our pocket
Day and night the time tickles
The location is built out of greens
The land’s need alone the soil can feed
Yellow metal (gold) is the soil’s stone
Waters flow across the land poles
In the mother water’s bosom (sea) dirty blood of energy flows (oil)
With fertile weather seasons, as healthy animals grow
Divided we fall together we stand
Beautiful Black Star shinning like the sun
With no ethnicity bounds hospitality is our might
Rich culture fixed to cohesion peaceful tribes
From generations civil war we’ve despise
To be peasant souls on a worthy land?
Religion has become opium of the masses
Painting riches as a deadly weapon in most cases
In our emaciated body we’re promised heaven
Are the land’s resources shared even?
Out of hunger we lament from morning till evening
They take the little we have for the House keeping
A government where blood is split by ideas and not guns
Campaign shapes our faith to be it fans
Myopic to development, diplomatic thieves
Stranger aren’t you, you’re now fat than your sleeves
Vulture do you value carcass, tell us how you feel
Ananse (wise man) the good are yours so keep
Orphans we are, we can’t dream like the sun, we sip a bottle of rum
We’ve lost trust, we’ve lost faith, and election is our gun
If the world judges us guilty, we die for our sons
Our sins we cleanse by the rays of the sun
When you meet us, we beseech you run
We want to be no more peasants on a worthy land
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HEELLO Agyei Johnson,
A poem about a rich land inhabited by poor residents. At first I thought that couldn't be possible but now I realize that anything is, in fact, possible.
The poem rhymes at one point, stops forming a pattern, then rhymes again. I sort of lost the rhythm of the poem there. A mix of two types of poems- rhyming and not rhyming- can cause confusion. It's just a tip.
This poem's topic has repeated itself through history. A powerful group of people faces quarrels amongst themselves and soon fall prey to a government who takes their current hardships to their advantage. This is how most empires in history have faced their downfall. A poem in history. I like it
A peasant no more,
Night Kaizer
Hello there. Truth be told— I am not worthy of reviewing, so I was waiting for someone else to review first.
I don't know much about Ghana, sorry. But I liked the composition and how you have conveyed what you wanted to say. I may not be able to understand how you feel, but I have trust that everything will be fine. A poet more of a positive person than a negative one. People of your country are worthy, your country is worthy, and so you shall get it. About the poem—I think it was unnecessary putting words in (...), except the meaning of 'Ananse'. It feels weird actually. Otherwise, a great poem.
Your review much appreciated. I'm a young writer trying to see if i can use poetry to talk about my country's corrupt system. Hope I will get more reviews from you in my successive post.
Of course. If I am unable to do a review myself, please send me a private message. I hope I can be of help.
I find the piece intriguing. I know Ghana is a a country with abundant natural resources but, still the nation begs for financial assistant. The use of "Beautiful Black Stars" specifies the setting. Ghana is the only country with a black star on it flack. Keep on. This is your first work here.