Tag Archives: World Poetry Display

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah from Ghana on the World Poetry Cafe Radio Show!


Ariadne’s note: We are so pleased to present World Poetry Member Michael on  The World Poetry Cafe on air in a special interview from Africa next Tuesday night, August 22nd, 9-10 pm Pacific Standard Time, broadcasting from Co-op Radio, 102.7 FM, www.coopradio.org To listen to Michael on the radio show, long distance by phone from Africa. CLICK HERE! 

A wonderful interview with important messages of peace and love. E-poem dedicated to Michael by his friend Samendra Patra from India.

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah lives in Ghana and is an African Poet. International Poetry congresses and festivals have included his poetry presentations and writings in their programs. He is an award-winning poet and has participated in Poetry events, readings in and out of Ghana, including Greece, Cyprus, South Africa etc.

As a Kostis Palamas poetry prize winner and Guest editor of Poetry Space-UK, he is being published widely in Literary Journals, Anthologies and newspapers in the UK, Canada, India, Ghana, Malawi, South Africa, Pakistan, Hungary, Greece, Cyprus, USA and other web hosting literary Magazines. He uses his form of poetry in projecting brotherhood of peace, love and beauty in all style, and a distinguished member of United Poets Laureate International (upli-USA), World poetry Canada, Ghana Association of Writers’ (GAW), Omilos Eksipireton (Servers’ Society)-Greece, among others.

Michael’s poems have been translated into other languages such as polish by Piotr Balkus, Croatian by Vinko Kalinic, Hungarian by Istvan Dabi, Greek by Vassiliki Ergazaki/Omilos Eksipiretiton and read on Co-op radio 102.7 in Canada by Ariadne Sawyer.

He is a Project Support Executive of Rakes Company Limited, holds a Bachelor’s degree in Management Studies from the University of Cape Coast and finds poetry as a tool of promoting peace and conquering the opponent with love. He is also writing his first poetry book.

You can reach the Poet at kmsogh@gmail.com and blogs on www.mkksomuah@wordpress.com You can as well navigate his accomplishments by googling: Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah


to (Omilos Eksipireton) Greece, and participants of the 10th annual seminar, with love


You will find joy
In the mid morning glory
When the path of light
Un-blind its eyes
Of the darkened gory

You will find rhythm
In the holy sieve
When the weary heart
Finds the anthem of peace
Beyond the oceans of stars

You will find cleansing
In the purest sea
When the dreadful stink
Charm thy godly body
Of past,
To healing of dance,
in the whispers now

You will find love
In the comfort bosom
When the silent air
Bore delight
In the groovy night
And magical spice
Of rainbow colors

You will find hope
You will find rest
In the brightest sun.

Copyright © 06-07- 2012

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah



World Poetry Proudly Presents Alan Hill from Canada and England!

Alan Hill reading his poem

 We are pleased to welcome back Alan Hill to the World Poetry Cafe Radio Show with hosts Ariadne Sawyer and Jason Lawrence.  He is one of our honoured participants from the City of Richmond, BC. Canada. He also had a poem on display at the World Poetry Poetic Necklace at UBC and the Richmond Cultural Centre. To Listen To The Radio Interview: CLICK HERE!

  This is a poem from his new book The Upstairs Country by Silver Bow Publishing. To buy Alan’s book: http://www.alibris.com/stores/silverbow

The Art of Pruning

My aged aunt
has snipped me into twigs,
clipped me
into memories
too tiny to be seen,
seeded herself
though holes in time,
mulched history
composted the air.

Cousins, sisters, parents
fertilized and re-alive
dragging their new shoots
over my muddy rugs,
inviting themselves over
in unfashionable clothes

with their dated opinions,

embarrassing knowledge
of my bad habits,
bringing me down
with Victorian prayers,
annoying sing songs

around the piano
that I don’t even have.

A great uncle
who disappeared
on the Somme

is sucking air from my lungs
performing the kiss of death
taking me in mouthfuls
spitting me    

from a bedroom window
shovel of my voice,
slitting open the spring air
like a love letter.

Alan Hill ©

World Poetry Proudly Presents Duke Ashrafuzzaman from Canada & Bangladesh!

Featured guest

The World Poetry Cafe Radio Show  with hosts Ariadne Sawyer and Jason Lawrence were honoured to welcome Duke to the radio show. He spoke about his passion for Tagore and read a poem in English and  Bengali. We also talked about the upcoming peace festival and the two Poetic Necklace Exhibits. To LISTEN TO THE SHOW, CLICK HERE!

 The Vancouver Tagore Society is one of our esteemed partners for the World Poetry International Peace Festival. Our great thanks go out to Duke for his beautiful work with all the selected poems that you sent in  for the peace festival. He compiled them into one file and put a lovely border around them. This took him many hours but the result is beautiful and something we all can be proud of. UBC is starting to print up the poems. The gift poems are already printed and the photos were put into frames. They look amazing!

Duke Ashrafuzzaman, is one of the founder-directors, and General Secretary of the Vancouver Tagore Society. He had emigrated to Canada in 1994 from Bangladesh where he taught Computer Science in the University of Dhaka and Shahjalal University of Science and Technology. He also worked as a sports reporter for the Daily Observer and contributed regularly in the sports and science sections of weeklies Shandhani, Jai Jai Din and Mouchakey Dhil. He translated a few philosophical essays and poem. A fan of Rabindranath Tagore, and music and literature, Duke is well-known in the cultural circles of Bengali community of Lower Mainland as an active participant. For his day job, he works as a software developer with Faronics Corporation.


Rabindranath Tagore

In those frenzied primeval days, when
  The Creator unsatisfied with himself
  Destroyed new creations after creations
Amidst repeated shakings of His head

In His exasperated disapprovals,
Arms of the raging sea

From the bosom of
Primordial Mother Earth
Snatched you away — Africa.

Consigned you to intimate vigil of the
Thick forests,
  Inner-quarters of miserly light.
There, in your undisturbed leisureliness

You were mustering mysteries impenetrable,
    Mastering  impregnable arcana  of
    Oceans, Lands and the Heavens.
Nature’s unseen magic webbed
 Spells on your sub-conscious.
In the guise of crudeness you
  Ridiculed the frightful,
Subdued fear of perils
  Portraying yourself hideous
     With powerful sublime grace
             Of the terrible
     In the trumpet-roars of frantic
             Dance of destruction.

Alas! The shadow-clad
   Beneath your dark veil
   Your humanity remained unknown,
In the muddled eyes of indifference.

They came with iron manacles
Their claws sharper than your wolves’
     Came hunters of humanity,
    In conceit blinder than your
Sun-bereft murky jungles.
  Civilization’s barbarous greed
    Bared its brazen bestiality.

  Your muted wails in misty forest-alleys
       Mired your earth with
       Your blood and tears
Under the spiked boots of those
   Monsters’ feet
   Horrendous lumps of mud
      Imprinted eternal smudge on

Your insulted history.
Meanwhile, on shores of the ocean

 In parishes of their villages and towns,
       Temple-bells tolled for worships
        Mornings and evenings
        In the name of their Merciful God;
Playful children frolicked in mothers’ laps;
Poet’s music played hymns
             Worshipping Beauty.

Today when the dusk looms in the
       Western horizons
        Breathless in stormy winds,
When the hyenas emerged from
       The depth of secret abyss, and
       Proclaimed the day’s end with
          Ominous unholy shrills,
     Poet of the turning age,
     Stand beneath the last rays of

        The setting sun,
        At the door of that humiliated woman,
        And plead,
           “Forgive, forgive us” —–
In the turmoil of vicious delirium
  Let these be your civilization’s
            Last noble words.

             [Translated by: Duke Ashrafuzzaman, Vancouver, BC. April 2012] (C)

    রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকু

উদ্‌ভ্রান্ত সেই আদিম যুগে

  স্রষ্টা যখন নিজের প্রতি অসন্তোষে

    নতুন সৃষ্টিকে বারবার করছিলেন বিধ্বস্ত,

           তাঁর সেই অধৈর্যে ঘন-ঘন মাথা-নাড়ার দিনে

                         রুদ্র সমুদ্রের বাহু

                    প্রাচী ধরিত্রীর বুকের থেকে

                  ছিনিয়ে নিয়ে গেল তোমাকে, আফ্রিকা,

          বাঁধলে তোমাকে বনস্পতির নিবিড় পাহারায়

                        কৃপণ আলোর অন্তঃপুরে।

                    সেখানে নিভৃত অবকাশে তুমি

                       সংগ্রহ করছিলে দুর্গমের রহস্য,

         চিনছিলে জলস্থল-আকাশের দুর্বোধ সংকেত,

                      প্রকৃতির দৃষ্টি-অতীত জাদু

            মন্ত্র জাগাচ্ছিল তোমার চেতনাতীত মনে।

       বিদ্রূপ করছিলে ভীষণকে বিরূপের ছদ্মবেশে,

        শঙ্কাকে চাচ্ছিলে হার মানাতে

         আপনাকে উগ্র করে বিভীষিকার প্রচণ্ড মহিমায়

                       তাণ্ডবের দুন্দুভিনিনাদে।


হায় ছায়াবৃতা,

            কালো ঘোমটার নীচে

          অপরিচিত ছিল তোমার মানবরূপ

                             উপেক্ষার আবিল দৃষ্টিতে।

          এল ওরা লোহার হাতকড়ি নিয়ে

            নখ যাদের তীক্ষ্ম তোমার নেকড়ের চেয়ে,

                   এল মানুষ-ধরার দল

        গর্বে যারা অন্ধ তোমার সূর্যহারা অরণ্যের চেয়ে।

                   সভ্যের বর্বর লোভ

নগ্ন করল আপন নির্লজ্জ অমানুষতা।

   তোমার ভাষাহীন ক্রন্দনে বাষ্পাকুল অরণ্যপথে

          পঙ্কিল হল ধূলি তোমার রক্তে অশ্রুতে মিশে;

    দস্যু-পায়ের কাঁটা-মারা জুতোর তলায়

                   বীভৎস কাদার পিণ্ড

    চিরচিহ্ন দিয়ে গেল তোমার অপমানিত ইতিহাসে।


সমুদ্রপারে সেই মুহূর্তেই তাদের পাড়ায় পাড়ায়

      মন্দিরে বাজছিল পুজোর ঘণ্টা

      সকালে সন্ধ্যায়, দয়াময় দেবতার নামে;

                শিশুরা খেলছিল মায়ের কোলে;

                কবির সংগীতে বেজে উঠছিল

                             সুন্দরের আরাধনা।


             আজ যখন পশ্চিমদিগন্তে

       প্রদোষকাল ঝঞ্ঝাবাতাসে রুদ্ধশ্বাস,

       যখন গুপ্তগহ্বর থেকে পশুরা বেরিয়ে এল,

      অশুভ ধ্বনিতে ঘোষণা করল দিনের অন্তিমকাল,

               এসো যুগান্তরের কবি,

               আসন্ন সন্ধ্যার শেষ রশ্মিপাতে

               দাঁড়াও ওই মানহারা মানবীর দ্বারে,

                              বলো ‘ক্ষমা করো’ —

                হিংস্র প্রলাপের মধ্যে

          সেই হোক তোমার সভ্যতার শেষ পুণ্যবাণী।