Give me one more push
Before thy hands, swing into despair
Give it One more chance
A seed to grow
A love to ferment
We haste to want
We slip from the top;
Loaded with immaturity.
Sharpening your edge takes time.
Be patient with me;
I will improve.
Don’t give up on me;
The luggage on my soul, heavy.
Hold my hand for a little while and
Be my eyes, before I go missing,
In this dark jungle.
You promised, you were in for a long haul;
The fear in your eyes, sounds like
A racing horse, without a rider.
My code is red hot endurance, to the end of the rope.
I am in, and there is no turning back,
from what is rightly mine.
- McDaniels Gyamfi

...and she wears black-belt of solid
endurance, around her soul.
Because, she was born in pain city;
She's never perturbed by their
pettiness and rumor mongering attitude.

You and I
We are buds
Unfolding into
A flower;
Full of life.

My my my:
you
keep
me,
in
perfect
paradise
madness.

My two weakling hands on my delusional head
A face tattooed with tear lines of anguish and perplexity
I am sick and tired of being sick and tired of this game

Many are sea sick with zipped lips in this freezing old ship
Precious dreams and lives; thrown overboard
Let me plead one more time with this heartless captain
We are charting upstream against the current, Sir
Sir! Please sir
Our lives and the lives of the next generation;
                                                                                  In your hands
Do you not care that we are perishing
He has a big navigational map on the wall
A gargantuan telescope in his hands
Alas, he is blind
Blind man will crush the blind into an iceberg
He is distracted by his own personal greediness;
Woe unto us, he is not far from a two hundred feet iceberg
He reminds me of the titanic
He has a crew who are not seas worthy
They are wearing their office like they are on vacation
The cry and the wisdom of the weak falls into deaf ears
Sir, do you not care that we are perishing!

Can you be my camera for a minute, Sir?

Focus below deck, sir;
Children without formal education
The future generation is today’s labor engine
They walk on the thin line of child...
Child, what?
Child slavery, Sir
They are brain washed
Manipulated and abused

Zoom on the mid-deck, sir;
The young jobless internet savvy
A storm tossed creative thinkers
A young generation with no future
A future neglected without action plan
Driven to push through the storm
One direction; the wrong direction
They are the masters of...
Masters of?
Masters of internet fraud and drugs, Sir
Gang banging is their security
Just like a candle under the night wind;
Their light goes off prematurely in lightning speed

Zoom a little high on the upper deck, sir;
Square pegs on rounded holes
Mismanagement and embezzlement
Unpatriotically obsessive creatures
Fanning the toxic flames of an aged ship
While expertise waste at the shore for decades

Will you anchor?
Will you pause and reflect

His words: acidic
Emotions: volcanic
Problems: oceanic

If angels rules; would have cry to them
Maybe they would hear the cry of the weak

Grant us safe voyage,
Thou that watch over the weak
Be our anchor in the midst of the storm
May we not sink in this sea of incompetence
Be our strength and hope in this journey to the unknown
Father, if it be possible be our captain and lead us to bliss

In the cold
I sit alone
With myself:
Cup in my hands;
Raised it up, to invite
The sun, the moon and
My fathers, for a drink,
A drink, through the milkyway
A pause
A silence
Questions
Bewildering
Freezing cold
Teary eye
Curiosity fades -  the silence.
Come drink with me, my fathers
Come drink with me, morning sun
I seek friendship with the past
I seek wisdom with the past
I seek travelling mercies
A cup in my hands
Cold questions in my heart
Future, frozen in silence
Come drink with me, through
The many lights of the constellation,
To a future, of liquid beauty
Come drink with me,
The warnth of the    
sages, through this lean path;
Dotted with thorn piercing puzzles.
Bruised feet
Wounded hearts
Pilgrims surrender
The crown has fallen
Servants rule
Come my fathers
Come morning sun
For a drink with your son
Before I succumb to the many voices, in my ears.

If the door slides open
And you have the chance
To walk through the edges
Of a friends secret past;
You have been given a great
Opportunity to see and heal
It is unwise to summoned strangers
To visit this cherished museum, of scars.
The world would be a better place
If friends and love ones could be LOYAL.

Milk for meat
Hype for hope
Lies for love
Ashes for beauty
And yet we all said "amen"
Puppet master
Thy humble puppets, enthralled
...and we have anointed you;
To tell us ...
  What we want to hear
  What we want to read
   What we want to watch

You have execute thy duties;
Tickling our ears to perfection,
With feathers, dipped in ******
Our souls; numbed  
our hearts; tangled in lies.

The parade
The confetti
The Loyalist
An ovation;
To he who sits
lonely, on his throne;
Feeding our emotions,
In your own emptiness.
Sensationalism
Emotional
Temporarily
Seasonal
Hypnotized
Roller coaster ride...
We are dead, like the last generation.

If you are good in one thing
You are definitely good in another thing
Specialization and fear, hindered her
from exploring the deep waters of herself

You have been through so much
Wounded and bruised on all sides
Standing at the edge of this cliff;
Feet slipping with disturbing thoughts
The world is a narrow path, dotted
With uncertainties and cruelty
A terrain, victory so unpredictable
Coup de grace may seem the only option
You, you have the warriors ethos in you
Shield thy heart from the volcanic ramblings
Forlorn hope, in frontal attack, come what may;
Conquering your personal demons and fears
You win, from the inside out!

Copyright 2014 || McDaniels Gyamfi

Dear soul,

Sorry for all the junk I have fed you with, in all these laboring years, of our pilgrimage.

I want to be a better person; living within the blueprint of my life.
More importantly, I promise to treat you right, by taking the time off, from all that distracts, to be in a sacred moment of communion;
listening tending, nurturing, and planting new seeds of consciousness.

You desire the best out of  me - leading me through the path of life and light, discovering all of me. Help me soul divine, to be align  with the vast ocean of thy wisdom, and the infinite knowledge within
thy breath.

I seek total wholeness, purpose, true satisfaction, and how to live at peace, with all that is around me. I know the journey is long and rough. With you on the wheel, everything is effortless.

Yours sincerely,  
- A. G. McDaniels

I want it smooth
Poetry, rough and smooth
Therefore, play me the
rough melodies, not to
the sensual ear
You soft trumpeter,
keep on playing though
Just get new lungs
Change is good
So play the trombone
Play it hard,
I want it rough
When my heart beats faster
than the speed of light, and
my mind experience,
a forceful mental awakening,
a turnaround, new perspective.
Rough is soothing
Rough is healing
That rough melodica.

The river journeys on,
to the depths of the seas.
Birds of yonder places and the
reeds, bow their heads, urging
her to pursue her dreams.
The river travels to the seas,
local fishermen stood on her
path, sending their wishes to
the ocean.
Days became months, months
became years, as she listened
attentively like a mother
listens to her kids.
The river journeys on to the
seas, rocks on her path, the
burdens of others on her heart;
Unabatedly running her course,
to kiss the dream.
- A. G. McDaniels

Like a dispirited spectator watch his  
favorite team, in a long losing streak;
He sits quietly, on
the cold wooden floor,  
  staring at the ceiling,  
with a belly full of shame,
guilt, and pain.   His mind is
running fast and furious, with
******* life questions. He is
on hells wheels, with no
destination, in sight.

  How do I go from here?
  The void of hopelessness.    
What went wrong?
Why, why, why me?
  A whirlwind of;
  Incurable disease,
  lack, dark secrets,
  death of a love one,
  rejection, unpaid bills,
  divorce, loneliness, ...  
  O' the night season, is long
  How I yearn for the crisp mornings;
  Peace, life, and wholeness    
Earthmaker, please bath my heart with
life and free my soul, from the snare
of the fowler.

The search is over
I will burn all these dictionaries
From this universal library
Until it all turns into ashes
I will cast it into the ocean  
And wait till it all disappears
You, you define beauty
And love, better than all

Bottom falls
Bubble breaks
Lonely streets
On Silent nights
O' Living hope;
Find me, find me
On lonely streets
At silent nights
I'm tired of believing
___________

Copyright 2015
a.g. McDaniels

Don’t hail me when I am gone
I am the Holy Grail you don’t see
You will know when am gone      
It would have been too late then

get your head out of the blues
get your head out of the blues
swim hard ashore, darling
swim hard ashore, darling

There’s a lighthouse; blinking hope
From the horizon,
Beckoning on you to come home
Speedily

get your head out of the ocean-darkness
the morning shall tear to pieces this hold
just get your head out... swim into hope
you’ll embrace...

I can’t force the universe to understand me
I won’t throw a tantrum, two or more folks
That refuse to travel with me on this path
There are more than a billion folks ahead
Of this path, waiting to align with a stranger:
Dancing in the same levels of energies

So I won’t force “ this few” to understand me
Neither will I succumb to their negativity
I soldier on, I carry on, on this lonely path
Knowing the sun will shine someday, on this path
I don’t know when but I carry on like the good farmer