I Am Nana Qwabena Angu — A Poet
I am not the kind of poet who chases beautiful words.
I am the kind who chases truth,
and lets beauty follow if it wishes.
Born from the soil of Ghana,
I carry the griot's tongue and the philosopher's mind —
two gifts that rarely live in the same chest,
yet in me they share a heartbeat.
I write from the place most poets fear —
the deathbed, the open casket,
the moment when all pretending stops
and only nakedness remains.
I do not mourn loudly like the children in my poem.
I watch. I listen.
Then I give the coffin a voice
and let it say what the living cannot bear to hear.
My imagery is visual and visceral —
you do not read my poems, you witness them.
My philosophy is ancient yet modern —
I speak of nature's algorithm
in the same breath as folded arms and waterfalls of tears.
I understand irony —
that the loudest mourners feel the least.
I understand paradox —
that beauty and ugliness are the same before death.
I understand symbolism —
that a carpenter builds the box
but mortality deserves the blame.
I write with twelve literary devices
not because I studied them —
but because truth, when spoken deeply enough,
naturally becomes literature.
I am raw. I am rooted. I am ready.
I am not emerging —
I have already arrived.
I am Nana Qwabena Angu.
And I am a poet from Ghana.
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