An Ode to the Unfilled Void in Ghana and Everywhere

By Kwesi Atta Sakyi

9th September 2012


(This poem is dedicated to all Ghanaian writers and lovers of poetry out there in Ghana, especially contributors to oneghanaonevoice.com, ghanaweb.com, ghanama.com, ghanavillage.com, news.gkrom, vibeghana.com, spyghana.com, poemhunter.com, sahara reporters.com).

We avoid the void like a plague,
Yet it cannot be ignored,
We abhor the emptiness of our existence,
Many aspirations remain unfulfilled,
Life is not a set of integers or whole numbers,
In between, there are vulgar fractions and irrational numbers
Along the endless continuum of life after life,
Life is rife with vacuous vacuums and irrational oddities

One hole too many for our transient troubled tenure,
Hole-in-heart patients,
Obstetric Fistula among our womenfolk,
Molar cavities across humanity,
Hole in the pocket rockets the perpetual in penury,
Prostate cancer bedevil our menfolk with urinary bypasses,
Vacant stares of wasting HIV/AIDS and TB patients,
Assholes for those lives drab but gay,
Ashtrays for stubs and smokers with teeth decay,
It is vivid as day, there is a void everywhere everyday

They turn to the streets to fill up gaping holes,
They go to the taverns, their watering holes,
They pass the dope and dupe themselves in hallucinations,
Dawdling dandies dancing with delicious damsels,
Dude, to the Devil the deuce,
Raising painfully their toast to their indulgent dues,
Prostitutes, pimps, addicts, swots and gays find fulfillment,
Pumping, fixing, jiving, shooting, quaffing, puffing,
Cavorting, cohabiting, skanking, jamming, rocking and incavating,
Doubling, coupling, crossing, eroting, carousing each other,
Seedy eyes rotting in dense den districts of crime and sin,
For their recreation, not for procreation

Golfers tee off to be at par over 18 holes,
Yet golf widows are famished and unfulfilled,
In contrast, life has infinite holes to fill,
Streets and roads in Africa cry for attention,
They gape at themselves with their yawning cavities,
Craters, manholes and potholes litter their pock-marked
Tarmac or macadamized skin,
For all I know, potholes and unfilled holes
Run into zillions in Ghana and everywhere in Africa

Psychological holes, spiritual hiatus, corporeal incavations, market gaps,
Physical orifices and economic woes,
The latter evinces capitalistic unwholesomeness,
Cascading global credit crunches,
Crying for unsustainable humongous bailouts,
You crank the capitalist lever,
And you can fill many a dole,
Alas, not all souls have their holes filled,
Capitalist greed and ponzi schemes breed
Phantoms spawned from stupid creed,
Their oft quoted mantra reads,
‘Money, money, money,
Gimme, gimme, gimme……’ (apologies to Abba)
Their crave and rave surpasses a rabid dog.
Or the insatiable earth which swallows us all.
It’s a phoney and dummy world
Full of dammable holes,
Hordes of whores on a rampage,
Who can fill and fulfill so many cavities?

Deep down the deep throats of money bags,
Deep down the bottom of their calloused hearts
Lurk gaping spiritual dungeons
Which cry for salvation and not levity
Ponder the perennial question,
Between terra firma and the sky-blue sky
How many human inventions or creations
Since the dawn of history and Adam,
Can occupy this limitless void?

Avoid that haughtiness, life is null and void,
From earth to heaven, a spanless spiral
Nebulae and galaxies,
A colossal, abysmal and cavernous cavity,
Man is but an atom, enslaved in his own
Captivity and nudity,
Crying for papal absolution and divine serendipity

Contact: [email protected]

Note: This poem was conceived about 5 years ago at the height of the global credit crunch of 2007/2008. I bumped into it a few days ago while rummaging and leafing through a junk of papers and I decided to polish it up.