Tuesday, August 25, 2026

Shadows

Shadows. Unsteady harbingers of the night
Furtive motion at a remove at once and then joined together
The stories they tell, mirrors of alternate worlds
Uprooted, prodigal strangers, faintly recognizable as ourselves

Visions. The griots would speak of the antecedents
And of the journeys from origins that were once called home
Roots and connective tissue to pasts we escaped
Places we once belonged, sanctuaries lost
And glories to be regained

Absences
That, at night, when the calm invades our shelter
When momentarily we can truly perceive the notices conveyed by the spirits
We welcome the reflection, these fugitives that elude us
Even as we touch and draw together

20160113_115927

Shadows, a playlist


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Writing log: May 21, 2023

Tuesday, August 18, 2026

Now's the Time

The afterlife of a whispered thought
Lingering, a seed planted haphazardly bears fruit
Precious, a leaf collects dew drops, a matter of flows redirected
Reducing, harnessing, fluid dripping capturing the very essence

Even without anyone immediately acting, ideas witnessed gain weight
Assessed when issued but always waiting for their moment
That nature and society abides with the waiting without regret
Secure in the gods' admonition for restraint
Keenly discerning the theme that opportune time deems befitting
When mankind would seize the direction of the most worthy

The prescient would bemoan the wasted time
While the laggards, new converts all, would sing the praises of the present
The regrets of the former - inconvenient as they are,
Are mere reminders of the grand experiment that is life

Pressure relieved, catharsis reprieved
The rhythms echo the past messages
Fragments made whole, a new synthesis
Vivid futures in prospect, now's the time


Dew drops by Gabriele Schwibach

Now's the Time, a playlist


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Writing log: May 21, 2023

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

Questions

Questions. Mostly unanswered but still worth savoring
The act of articulating a thought brings its own reward
And trouble too, for outlining a pitfall brings up liability
We'd rather plod on covered by our veil of inertia

Forewarned implies agency and the shackles of responsibility
And tort with its troubling specter, a reminder that we live in community
Caught between decisions to forget - escape clauses
And what we choose to remember, commemorate and applaud

Better the comfort blanket of neglect
The faint hope of a rescue at the last, the arc of a story
The seductions of wishes, human truths to live by
Something, someone will come at the last moment

Lingering thoughts, softly, beneath a whisper
Hovering, floating almost above a scream
Unspoken messages, liminal, unseen
Nesting, incubating, fragments of a dream
Questions, yes. Mostly unanswered, but always worth savoring


Pondering



Questions, a playlist


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Writing log: May 20, 2023

Tuesday, August 04, 2026

Up for None

Up for none and down for nothing
The fever that had gripped us dissipated
Leaving so suddenly that the previous scripts were still in place
Bewildering to perform the rote actions, even more pointless now in the light of day

Clear eyed though, we told ourselves fictions
That the fog had lifted for good
The new certainty, the new normalcy, we averred
That we would only deal with the lingering mist going forward
That the righteous hubris that just yesterday opened wounds could be foregone
Up for none, we played our role

Still, best to forget the previous direction, the wounds inflicted
Purification ceremonies have their chaperones, midwives to earlier indecencies
For shame's inconvenience is soothed by the passing of time
From fictions spring received notions
The balm of stories we tell ourselves to relieve the burden of ignorance

Rewriting the script with the assured rhetoric of the misled
Gaps, ellipses, things that are suddenly unmentioned
Unmentionable in the polite society of striving simians
Smothered by all too conventional wisdom, these truths
Up for none, then, and down for nothing


A culture of maintenance



Up for none, a playlist


A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

This note is part of a series: In a covidious time.


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Writing log: May 16, 2023

Tuesday, July 28, 2026

Significations

Just past the circumlocution office
Working in the obfuscation quarter
Dogon turanci as the Hausa say
Long-winded sentences, empty phrases

For when the content of one's thought is blanketed by evasion
Comes the turn to bureaucratese and the many uses of euphemism
Couched as higher learning such is the defense mechanism
Leading with this badge proudly proffered to escape derision

Sesquipedalian in intent and strategy
Winding down with a touch of verbosity
A facility with words intended to obscure
Prolix pronouncements and significations


Presentation Pete - Scared Pete (Office Life)

Significations, a playlist


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Writing log. May 9, 2023

Tuesday, July 21, 2026

Attrition Curve

Voluntary separation
Consider it an opportunity
If it fits with your plans
Might as well take the money

Take the offer, for sure, it's a tough call
For, who knows, the next time will be involuntary
It isn't pretty, you know, when the ax falls
Firings, unemployment, turmoil, redundancies

Take the buyout, it's relatively generous too
Just surprising that they'd pay you to leave
Pitching it as early retirement or the chance for something new
Ignoring entirely all the tales they were spinning just last week

To their credit, they aren't handling it like others in the industry
The fashion of layoffs is catching, albeit their choices are arbitrary
Impersonal, the casual cruelty of what they call restructuring activities
But no doubt it still hurts to have them talk of performance calibration
Empty phrases: managing the attrition curve, structural costs reduction


pyramid of capitalist system

Voluntary Separation, a playlist


A soundtrack for this note (spotify) Bonus beats Get Rid Ah Dem by Sizzla

...

Previously, in the same vein:

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Writing log: May 12, 2023

Tuesday, July 14, 2026

Including Toy Guns

At approximately 1:30 this afternoon, a student brandished a gel blaster gun and began using it in the hallways. The student was immediately apprehended by staff and was detained by our Student Resource Officer. The campus was placed on a "Hold" from 1:30–1:55 p.m. while staff and [redacted] police made sure the area was safe.

Please remind your children about the dangers of students bringing certain items, including toy guns, to school. Possession of any type of weapon — including a toy — is a serious violation of the [redacted] Student Code of Conduct.
...

We need to have a talk, my children
You're old enough to hear the deal

You do remember, we've had the sex talk already
All that stuff about the birds and the bees

We've had the race talk also, a puzzler that one
When I brought up ignorance, that social disease

But, mark my words, I'm raising you in America
That land of opportunity, with all that it means

Cringe, I know, your father's message, but hear me out on this
Lest I ever hear of you saying that you can't breathe

Far too many lives have been lost, consigned to thoughts and prayers
People just like you, brought low for the most dubious of reasons

Truth be told, this society is funeral minded
I can barely keep up, the litany of hazards we face daily

Knocking on the wrong door, jogging, or simply reaching
We can now add another, but this one is easily avoided

The subject is weapons, the danger is the perception
Some might say that it's a matter of possession

Albeit you might be having a little bit of fun
Careful of the things you carry including toy guns

True, in our family, we've always held that education is war
But the new warfare is metaphorical, don't bring in bows and arrows

I kid you not, it's unfortunate, there's no foolproof protection
Even a raised umbrella can cause no small amount of trouble

So if you must wield a weapon, let it be in the form of your thoughts
And express them judiciously, for no one is promised tomorrow

Your words will carry you but remember
It doesn't cost much to bite your tongue

Do go out of your way to make others comfortable
Proudly wear, as you do, that mask of civility

But make sure that it is only heartfelt outrage
That causes you to be accused of disturbing tranquility

That's all I have for now, I cry at night that you can be viewed as a threat
Despite all of our efforts, this country decidedly fails to protect

That we live in this strange world full of perils including toy guns
Carry on as you were, you're my favorite daughter and son


carvings sculpture bow and arrow

See previously: Prone, Action Items and Response Consultant

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Writing log. May 8, 2023

Tuesday, July 07, 2026

Restless Joy

Restless joy, unbridled at that
Skipping, ecstatic despite yourself
And a sound issues from primal depths

Elation then, loping and sinuous
Demanding fervently to be shared
Unbidden glee, always in motion

This frantic compulsion
Uncontrollable, effervescent
Restless joy, oh what a feeling


El Anatsui

Joy, a playlist


A soundtrack for this note (spotify version)

Writing log. May 7, 2023

Tuesday, June 30, 2026

The Fabric of Nostalgia

The fabric of nostalgia
The ease of comfort blankets
Soothing memories of course
And the decisions to forget

Phantom threads of longing
Assembled at cross purposes
Stitching together thoughts
Welcome but fugitive visions

A quilted patchwork emerges
Shielding, lush but utilitarian
These woven cloths draped carelessly
We decipher meaning in their faint patterns

Odes to time lost, and homes too
Places, faces, tastes and touch
Graceful, the sensory elevation
Whither the veins of belonging


baba blanket reverse

Nostalgia, a playlist


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Writing log. May 6, 2023

Tuesday, June 23, 2026

Word Choice

She wrote "gathered". He was intrigued by the word choice
"Would you have preferred 'stolen'?", she said in reply
The silence after her retort was pregnant, loaded with reflection
Clearly many far more graphic words could well apply

She was being diplomatic, the occasion called for euphemism
There was no need to bring up the conqueror's catechism
The damage was done, the crown jewels were befitting
Why mention the earlier propensity for looting?

Those from the land of gold are connoisseurs of opacity
Who feel little burden in wearing masks of civility
There's a time and place, we aver, for plain speaking
But the sphinx modalities inform our private thinking

And, yes, the word gathered belies those fraught histories
An apt pointer to past abuses and enduring legacies
And, of the frayed fabric of memory still awaiting reparation,
A reminder: it's a choice to forgo truth and reconciliation


submission of king prempeh 1896

After King Charles' coronation: How would it happen in Ghana? (BBC, May 4, 2023)

Listen also: Loot, a playlist (spotify version)

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Writing log. May 4, 2023

Tuesday, June 16, 2026

Recidivist

I murdered a metaphor
Crushed it after a long delay
I'll admit upfront, I was a repeat offender
And yes, my parole officer cautioned me about the terms of my probation
Severe he was, he reminded me about the restrictions on carrying weapons
And further advised me to not associate with writers wielding puns

But it was hard to resist the temptation
The twelve step program hardly had time to have an effect
Euphemism lingers in the body, I wondered if I would pass the drug test
Albeit irony works best at close quarters, I was afraid to use a gun
In the end it was appalling, I strangled it with my bare hands

I remember an earlier time when I didn't hesitate to plunge the knife
Trigger happy, I was especially fond of vicious verbal sallies
Flesh wounds, back then I was addicted to biting satire
The sting in the tail after lobbing hand grenades, double entendres
Or poisoning the well with exaggeration born of my misspent youth
After such lampooning, my many victims came to bloody ends

The teasing was drawn out in this case, it couldn't stand the torture
Begged me to put it out of its misery, I laughed while it murmured
As you know, in the torrid zone, many prefer the water treatment
I kept up the pressure, continued drip feeding wit for days on end
Believe me, with a steady diet of blood and sin, you get results
I tell you, the vivid scenarios I enacted, it was a veritable mess
You’ve, no doubt, heard in these parts of the heart of darkness

The ban on assault weapons had been revoked, I lived then in modern America
I'd sought refuge in wordplay, word fugitive, for such is my asylum
My predicament, internally displaced, it was a strange kind of life
I purchased soul insurance, prepaid the premiums due for the coffin
Literature only, funeral minded, it overwhelmed the senses

This, then, is my confession, it was not written under any duress
Mind you, I traffic in tall tales, I daresay I'm a recidivist
By the time you read this I'll have turned myself in to the authorities
To wit: yes, it was a dark and stormy night, in a far, faraway land
Something was in the water, when I murdered a metaphor again
At length I hammered away with my point and paid attention to the details
For when it comes down to it, to a writer, every story is a nail


tag cloud: Things Fall Apart



Murder, a playlist


A soundtrack for this note (spotify version) See previously: Soul Inspiration and The Early Bird Catches the Poem

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Writing log: February 5, 2023

Tuesday, June 09, 2026

The Finest

The words write themselves
All of the things he was
The finest for all of us

Peerless yet unassuming
And a hard act to follow
The finest undeniably

No one worked harder
Yet it was always with such ease
The finest reliably

Tasteful and self contained
The tone, exquisitely poised
The finest most graciously

A twinkle in the eye
Delightful conversations
The finest effortlessly

The strategy was to redirect fools
Quiet laughter amidst this tolerance
The finest ever so gently

Reading widely, education was paramount
His learning had no boundaries
The finest, he charted new territory

In search of the new, an early adopter
But yearning for what actually worked
The finest, his passion for discovery

Bound in faith for all of us, a firm believer in family
A gift of love and concern, a trailblazer for our community
The finest spirit, he gave generously

The words write themselves
All of the things he was
We hold on to the memories

The finest we've known
The finest we've seen
The finest we'll remember


dance by wiz



After Samuel Ofosu-Amaah

The Finest, a playlist


A soundtrack to this note (spotify version)
The Finest



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Writing log: January 29, 2023

Tuesday, June 02, 2026

Free-For-All

It was a question of nerve
  and, when it came down to it, the Wan blinked first
After their scribes threw in the towel,
  they succumbed to humanity's curse
In a moment, it seemed, they upended all their previous mitigations
Pivoting to the new normal, they said, they lifted all restrictions

That it was time to return to normalcy was the considered feeling
Truth be told, there was, in this, a large element of wishful thinking
And the evidence was clear, they'd been inadequate with this change of plans
The toll quickly showed they'd chosen a lower tier of soul insurance

For, beyond emotional vaccination, one needed inoculation effectiveness
Herd immunity was indeed a chimera,
  for now the whole land was a mess
It was every man for themselves, whiplash throughout the populace
Who would bear the heavy burden of the good scribes's mistakes

The historians would later ask, did they consider the alternatives?
The way these academics do, making hay at length about what ifs
They could have at least waited until after their lunar new year
What did they gain by so precipitously succumbing to fear?

And the optics weren't good, the whole world would be disbelieving
Any statistics now profferred would be taken as those Wan deceiving
All we know was that they were finally going through their second wave
Although, with the kind of numbers affected,
  fortune would only favor the brave

Hastily abandoned, previous certainties were now summarily dismissed
Yet saving face meant that no one could admit that anything was amiss
A confusion of discarded policies that were no longer compelling
The official silence that reigned in those ghastly few months was telling

Leveling up - or down as the case really proved to be
Now there was no sanctuary on hand for the catastrophe
The whole world placed as it were in the thick of it
Global narrative collapse with its striking deficits

Ananse hankered down with his family,
  best to keep quiet and watch what would unfold
In the aftermath, there would be more opportunity,
  of this he didn't need to be told
The Wan, it seemed, had calculated
 and decided on what amounted to acceptable loss
As the old proverb went: one cannot separate fighting horses with millet stalks

Weary times would follow, the toll of those days was rather harrowing
When all around everyone in the grip of the gods' cauldron was suffering
Ananse beheld so many that were complaining of these significations and wonders
Perplexing given that they'd had the opportunity to prevent the earlier blunders

It was the inconvenience that was the prime bone of contention
The notion that it was no longer worth favoring prevention
The change of policy had scuppered any goodwill, crossing the spider
He never forgot a grudge,
 in good time they would have something to remember

And so zero tolerance would be a thing of the past
It was surely inevitable that they couldn't hold fast
Now that caution was foregone, in its place came laissez faire
We would have no more examples of humanity's strategic savoir faire

The last sanctuary, then, swiftly descended into upheaval
A return to the worst of plague living, echoes of the medieval
The Gods had put all to the test, even those without the wherewithal
And with no place to hide on earth. We would all face this free-for-all


wiz-drum-swing


Free For All, a playlist


A soundtrack for this note (spotify version) See previously: Shakedown

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Writing log: May 27, 2023