To My Uncle Tarkwa Atta – A Tribute (3)

By Kwame Okoampa-Ahoofe, Jr.

Culled out of

your quite cushy

and prestigious

calling

in the college

that Danquah built,

that tutored you

in the polite ways

of the legally equipped

and morally refined,

you would soon

be transformed

into that rare

dainty flower

the planter

ultimately killed

with too much love

and concern;

except that

in your case

the planter

harbored neither love

nor concern

for you

save abuse…

really,

you were culled

out of your

cozy niche

to be immolated

for a feast

of thugs,

you were culled

out of greed

and hunger

for power

on the part

of your culler,

simply

for the easy prey

your mild manners

promised your

cold-calculating

predator…

yes,

culled out,

suddenly, and

some say,

abruptly

from the college

that Danquah built;

Kwame Kyeretwie

Boakye-Danquah,

the man for whom

you barely had

any grave

regard,

the man

against whose image

you thumbed

your nose,

the man

you abandoned

for the fast-balding

leftwing-plagiarist…

yes,

you callously

abandoned

the man

who fed you

like a pigeon

from the very palm

of his hand;

and so

when your

predatory

deceiver arrived

in the dead

of night,

there was none

to save

your soul…

alas,

having forgotten

your moorings,

you morphed

into the eagle

cooped

with the chickens

that learned

to fly way

above and

beyond

or rooftops

till the cold comfort

and excitement

of novelty

caused him

to abscond

with the map

of our dreams…

alas,

the chickens

have come home

to roost,

and you stand

callously accused

by your culler

and killer

for having hastened

your own demise

like the heedless

crab

who lost

his head

amidst a legion

bystanders

he mistook

for friends –

7/26/12