Nibii Bibii*…

ask me of my love for her
and I will tell you about
the smallest of things in the smallest of moments – things of and about her:

*


the neat fold of her lithe limbs and the coil of her frame, when
the tides began to shed
their quiet leaps and bright tenors for one loud void and ashen shrill.

Picture mine – Around Legon, Accra: Monday 8th Feb. 2021.

the blank and wet on her face as she
gazed into nothingness, when I told her it can’t possibly
rain and pour, roar and pain without end – and not without her will to up and on still.

the sharp arching of her left brow,
once when I had asked her what she thought of
hopes and dreams going stale, then sour, with one wait after more waste…

Picture mine – Legon, Accra: Thursday, 24th Feb. 2020.

the knotting of her smile on one tip of her tiny thick lips,
when I told her that Sun showed up and sweet – and generously so –
after what, until now, tasted like forever.

the sudden coming of her pointless mischiefs,
the unpredictable turn of her next funny thing – in the middle of
what should be, what has been anything but play, anything but a joke.

Picture mine – North Kaneshie, Accra: Wednesday, 23rd Dec. 2020.

the easy, lucid recklessness of her waist, as
she danced away to that silly song she knew was silly but
she loved like mad and silly and all – all the same, and with no shame at all.

the sweep and setting of her hips in a gait
which defies name, which transcends walk, which dances
to its own song – when I make way, as I’m wont to, for her to go before me…

Picture mine – Gallery 1957, Accra: Tuesday, 9th Jun. 2020.

the lush and soul of the life and presence in her eyes when
she begins and soon gets happily lost in
a World where Words and Water and Wonder and such and similar live and thrive…

*

ask me about
the smallest of things in the smallest of moments – things of and about her
and I will only begin tracing the form and frame of Love – my Love for and of her.

               

– Morning of Monday, 21st June 2021: Legon, Accra.

* Niibii Bibii‘ is Ga for ‘Little Things’, as in, the not-exactly little things because of which we love, we laugh – we live…

CloudYOU! – #TheHarvest (Part 9:End)

This poem is the eighth and last in my CloudYOU! series. Learn more about the series in the Introduction. Read the firstsecondthirdfourth , fifthsixth and seventh poems. 

***

 …and for *Ehanom…

the
day before
today, I watched One
Day, perhaps, another
time too many. I don’t
remember much of
today’s corn and fish but I
still have the taste of the
millet and milk in my mouth,
perhaps, again, because
it’s the last…They say

cloudyou ehanom canoe and gh flag

Photo mine. For the First and Best in the Detail; For this Love and Place, called Ghana – and Beyond…: fishing nets on a sea bridge at the beach somewhere around the Lighthouse, Sempe , and the Brazil House of the Tabom People, all of Ga Mashi, (British) Accra. Circa September 2017.

the
day after today
is the last of one bundle of a
time and season – a Year, they
call it. I can’t tell
much of what that should
mean because I’ve survived, thrived
many times – much seasons,
much years; thrived many times of
many famines – such fates,
such lots – of You in many of

the
days of this dying year, this yet
another ending of a season…The list of
famines – the lots and fates – of You: the
generous and folds of your smile, the
beauty-s and butts of our jokes and oh!
the hues and blues of

cloudyou ehanom fishing nets and canoes on coast line

Photo mine. Harvest (and) After Harvest: fishing nets on a sea bridge at the beach somewhere around the Lighthouse, Sempe , and the Brazil House of the Tabom People, all of Ga Mashi, (British) Accra. Circa September 2017.

the
Cloud that you are
coming to mind,
coming to me, in
times and faces, in
thoughts and twirls, in
turns and shapes, in
things and places I never
could have gone asking for,
could have been prepared for. and see!

the
calculated madness, the
intelligent folly, the
uncomplicated Truth that
I am still at *this place, at
this time of harvest, and still
not sure, not knowing
anything at all about wanting
to be cured
of You
of You
of You
of You
of You

***

Love,

AishaLovesToo.

– Wednesday, 4th July 2018; North Kaneshie, Accra.

*Ehanom means ‘this place’ in Akan, Twi.

**An earlier version of this poem first appeared on Facebook page.

CloudYOU! – #TheBlossom (Part 7)

This poem is the sixth in my CloudYOU! series. Learn more about the series in the Introduction. Read the first, second, third, fourth and fifth poems from the previous posts.

 

The day before today, the day

I made
talk of the cream and soft crack of corn
with old okra and fine fish,
talk of the grit of grain in the thick of milk,

I slipped
in and out of sleep,
with thoughts of You,
with reads of Lahiri – but mostly
with of thoughts and loves of You –
wafting in and around my head.

I don’t
know why I write today but

I do
know You should know
nothing much has changed,

31235049_1811918348860656_6164188156150153216_n

Picture mine: The sky with a coconut tree close by, a roof and a mango tree behind it, a telecommunication ‘plant’ standing farther and too tall and straight, and iron rods jutting out of a building-in-progress.  –– Wednesday, 11th April, 2018.

nothing that
You or a Cloud
with the scent of water, if not
a cup pouring over with same

nothing that
You or a Cloud
with the break of sun, if not
the shine and gold of same

nothing that
You or a Cloud
with a hue that is blue and
true and just You

nothing that
these three or two
cannot easily solve,
cannot freely give.

 

*

Love,

AishaLovesToo.

– Tuesday, 29 May 2018; North Kaneshie, Accra.

*An earlier version of this poem first appeared on Facebook page.

CloudYOU! – #TheBud (Part 6)

This poem is the fifth in my CloudYOU! series. Learn more about the series in the Introduction. Read the first, second, third, and fourth poems from the previous posts. 

 

the day before this new one was long and soft with
Water. corn and fish happened, in parts. long and
soft with soup with okra – yes, with okra in the mix.
soft and long with grains – in granules, in milk. soft
and long with greens with flesh, texture and
character thick with salt and age and better

but
I digress: I write today to say
that the long and soft of yesterday
was well met with the plenty of Sun
and enough – just enough, no more
than enough

Blue. this new
day is not spent –
not fully spent –
yet, but

 

30530958_1798411570211334_2764287461906448384_n

Picture mineI, overlooking the part of Assokoro (Abuja, Nigeria) where I was, from my hotel room, during my participation in the West Africa Story Making Workshop, hosted by the British Council and facilitated by African Story Book, an initiative of Saide. – Sunday, 11th March 2018.

I am here, wondering
why the sun is playing
shy with its shine,
wondering when,
wondering whether

You
will come, whether Cloud and Blue
will come colour things up – everything.
Every. Thing. up – today. meanwhile, and

while Sun still lasts, I go
out to drink Its fluid gold
and round warmth – for as for
Water, It always finds Its way…

 

 

*

Love,

AishaLovesToo.

– Thursday, 26 April 2018; North Kaneshie, Accra.

*An earlier version of this poem first appeared on Facebook page.

 

CloudYOU! – #TheSeedling (Part 4)

This poem is the third in my CloudYOU! series. Learn more about the series in the Introduction. Read the first and second poems from the previous posts. 

water
has curious personality

sun
is filtered-fine goodness

corn
needs no kneading

fish
sates at mere sight

Accra London Market

Photo mine. A scene at the London Market, around the Korle Lagoon, Bukom and James Town, all of Ga Mashi or British Accra.                            Circa May 2017.

and
you should have been

the fun, the
blue hue
in that cloud

the one right
there, yes

the One…

 

*

Love,

AishaLovesToo.

– Monday, 16 April 2018; North Kaneshie, Accra.

*An earlier version of this poem first appeared on my Facebook page.

CloudYOU! – #ThePlant (Part 5)

This poem is the fourth in my CloudYOU! series. Learn more about the series in the Introduction. Read the first, second and third poems. 

 

the day before this new one
I saw and heard and tasted
You everywhere I turned
yes, again

but that is not
why I write
today too
about you.

the night before this coming one
I was wondering if I want, if I
can count You among my many
coming new mornings

13912409_1186836691368828_5519135376050041094_n

Photo mine. Dusk at the beach somewhere in between the Lighthouse and Sempe, both in Ga Mashi, Accra Central, Ghana. Circa September 2017.

or the
quartered, minced
hearts of yore.

the day before this new day
I had to pinch and pain myself
with the kind of cloud that
You are, that You are

threatening
to remain
to me.

 

*

Love,

AishaLovesToo.

– Monday, 16 April 2018; North Kaneshie, Accra.

*An earlier version of this poem first appeared on my Facebook page.

CloudYOU! – #TheSprout (Part 2)

*This poem is the first in my CloudYOU! poetry series. Learn more about the series in the Introduction

 

…and tonight too, your
name, you – all of
you – are

the cloud caught
high and heavy in
my head, my heart.

the cloud that
abides but is
yet to let down, shed
its rain…yes, rain.
like water. like dew.
generous, in flood.

Sea Accra Dusk

Photo mine. Dusk at the beach somewhere in between the Lighthouse and Sempe, both in Ga Mashi, Accra Central, Ghana.                               Circa September 2017.

and tonight too, moonshine
is still no sunlight. the soaked
sponge scraps sore. for once,

words threaten

to fail. corn bites before it
fills. presence is distant. fish is
funny. muse-ic plays shy and
dull…and…well, You still are

that cloud.
just like that.
tonight too.

 

Love,

AishaLovesToo.

– Friday, 3rd March 2018; North Kaneshie, Accra.

 

*This poem first appeared on my Facebook account on 23rd November, 2017.