Abeiku Arhin Tsiwah

At Heaven’s Gate: This is The Story We Harvest.

my mother’s eyes are not hers
i’m told they belong to babel
she’s holding her tears in an hour glass
she is wondering if this was the hour
the lord said he was going to come

a man set before the fusillade
a man brought before the law court
he says his palms are clean
if they cannot see through his heart
he says his eyes are watery
if they cannot read its blissfield

/& many of these stories
/wrestle their tears out
/as headlines to the guilt
/we harvest in our homelands



This Was How Your Mother too Traveled.

This was how we made it to the
moon. Bearing a dead rose
In our shivering palms// holding
Another body in the sheen of tears

We do not ask for mundane
inscriptions on muted walls;
A cluster of God’s benediction
In a Crimsoned Rosary . . .

My mother would die soon
/& how soon her name too shall depart
From these lips troubles my soul

A prayer said at sunset
in an olive garden,
A wild whisper left roaming at twilight —
/& Yet, this body too aches . . .


Bio

Abeiku Arhin Tsiwah is a Ghanaian Smartphone Enthusiast //& Content Critic. He’s the Poetry Editor at Lunaris Review (a Journal of Arts & the Literary, Nigeria) & the Creative Director at The Village Thinkers (a Creative Writing & Performing Arts Society, Ghana). The 2018 Shortlisted Poet for African Writers Awards has had his works anthologized/&[or] publicized in reputed literary volumes: EXPOUND, Whispers, NovelMasters, Kreative Diadem, Anansekrom, Gnosis Magazine, Tuck Magazine, The Liberian Literary Magazine, et cetera. 

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