Poet Entrepreneur
In 2019, I was accepted into the training programme at the Meltwater Entrepreneurial School of Technology. Here is a collection of poetry detailing my first few days at MEST, our first challenge before classes officially resume, and my experience during my first few days in Accra, Ghana.
Recruitment
Moments of anxiety
every bit of information
was a drop of wise wine
to my thirsty soul
for I was the newest son of Tantalus
eager to learn
eager to earn
eager to give
but what service can,
a youthful merchant proffer
at the base
of a global altar
innovation or creation
never competition,
and even when the last
is truly needed,
how might it be done
without quiet reflection
Helpful siren call
straight out of university
seeking out my destiny
I see a precious opportunity
I pause then pounce
I am knocked back by reality
then I learn better
push further
and the whisper of melting water
lets me know
I can be tutored in the art
of pristine excellence
a school of business
in the truest sense
and I am captivated
but in no fatal sense
simply, in one of growth
and I heed the
helpful siren call
When it all began
I stood far away
close, yet still distant
unsure of what still might
be untoward or pleasant
I dreamt of wins
and dreaded losses
I sought nothing
but growth and fortune
such was my soul
as I arrived
at the land of dreams
at the edge of delight
Tower of hope
white walls
and steep slopes
best describe
my humble home
a collection of flats
in stacks of three
with folds of rooms
that hold simple souls,
more complex
in their mundanity
even than the greatest sea
or the briefest cliff
Monday the first
a week before learning
I was busy studying
perspectives and realities
in abundance about me
from the French of the west
to the Swahili of the east
from the tune, I always sought
to the song I grew up singing
I took a break
from technicality
and pursued practicality
blessing all those
who would have me
and growing through
those who were kind
enough to teach me
Happy meals
full nutrition
and proper sustenance
kiss my stoic belly
and hug my sombre mind
I strive to learn
the names of all who
in their official capacity
tend and care
to my apt feeding
there is Linda, who I met first
then Diane with a regal smile
and Aunt Mary, as she prefers to be called
Amelia, and Beatrice
whose names I oft mixup
not for a reason mischievious
but for the short space of time
with which I have worked with
First challenge / Experiences
Buy, bet & barter
one, two, three,
twenty cedis
as an investment to double
and triple
to over-multiply
and flip a proper profit
to actively acquire the cold
technical skills
that prove necessary
for the survival of
every Entrepreneurial entreprise
we plotted and schemed
for good, and no evil
to prove our business strength
profit being no metric for success
embracing ethics
and deciding our worth
Chale Wote
friend, have you heard
a tale of love and war
a story of excitement
an avenue of warmth
a party by the ocean
a place of true emotion
a path of human traffic
of peculiar experiences
of culture and determination
of grim expectation
a party by the ocean
Music unheard
I used to rap and sing
and did so yesterday
the second to the last
of a strong length of days
of active recreation
when I heard a beat
loud enough
for none to hear me spit
I whispered aloud
emotions spectacular
happy I had made it this far
excited just by life
and triggered by the sights
the smells and motion
of a thousand
subtle dreams
Storming
my team was
at first, for a moment
pirates on the open sea
with a queen from the south
advising wisdom
and I, a renegade poet
proffering solutions
digital and artistic
with a soldier from the west
my very own country
depicting tales of strength
I did not at first understand
and a capable guide from the nation
we will have for a home
for a year, and many a happy day
my team, eventually found
they each had unique skills
we turned the storm
into a mirror
and by swift reflection
found our sure path to the shore
A war of roses
face painting and poetry
delivery joy, and history
no measure when we pour
our shots of wonder
teamwork
and subtle perspiration
new tastes
and soft delusion
we build on love
and go to war on hate
we haggle with the lords of fate
our customers
come from heaven’s gate
Tradition
jungle dancing
and sweet romancing
of thoughts and ideas
of things once feared
of lyrics unsung
and party garments unhung
What
is the real reason
why we dance on clouds so high
and seek, want to fly
are the wonders of
galaxies, under the sea
Atlantis, and such
do we mean, when we
I love you, understand
are these just empty
… things
Premium premium
no price for
Freudian contemplations
and half-spoken thoughts
no cost for
such decisions
as betting on faulty pleasures
no truth
in crippled words
half-thrust without intention
premium
is the measure of honesty
premium
is intuition
premium
is self-awareness
Why art is hard
I saw some on sale
I put out some pale
some filled with colour
truth, and humour
all for the sake
of self-inquiry
for you see my diary
exists in bits and pieces
I found this in truth
in the poems, I learnt to forget
Palmwine fuel
I sipped yesterday
on the essence of
an ancient liquor
nothing concentrated
all parts joy
infused too with herb
the colour of burnt sugar
but far from caramel
it made me motivated
and tickled me to action
I would have worked regardless
but wisdom sits
at its junction
Pesewas
true profit
has odd earnings
as part of the deal
the complete win
in the coffers of those
who farm with capital
it is rare,
that a round figure
rings the bell
once one does sell
Moving forward
Clockwork
time is the river
upon which life learns to swim
float or sink
either way, the currents sing
either way the constant wins
so I will make
the best of mine
and aid those oar
who float afar
This is the most honest reflection of my time spent in Accra at this moment. I write as I feel, with no reservations. I am poetry - we all are in truth. Hopefully, the art that is our soul will suffice for our joy.