I own a piece of Nyayito Song
weighing more than Handel’s Messiah
it gives me space enough to breath
to harvest dreams
the English master wants my song
to blond the hair and dress it in nylon
to color the face and watch it waltz
till it giggles and wriggles its hips to death
I have known the purity of Nyayito songs
long before it caught gonorrhea
in the arms of Enlightenment
(Nyayito songs are like the Blues or Jazz among the Anlo-Ewes of Ghana)
Padmore Enyonam Agbemabiese
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-know-songs/
