Friday, March 28, 2014


Get over
Yours is not
Your talk of a getaway
An allure!

Brother please!
All you have to offer is not enough

I understand the appeal
The thrill of the hunt
With prey which announces its presence
Loud, independent, exuding strength
Oh, wouldn't you love to be the tamer of that
Be Caesar

I know 
You want to be
The one that
That makes me  vulnerable to the point of need
Need of nothing but you
Filled with want of you
Ravished by you
Victim, lost

I want not
I need you not
Fill me not

Boy, you ain't encountered
My kind before

Money is shit
Yeah that's right
Your money is shit
Half-masked offers
Delusions of grandeur 
Adolescent attempts at flirting
Oh-so-obvious words of flattery

Get over boy!
We ain't in Circa 1500


Nana Yaw Asiedu said...

Eish, Tetekai! The gloves came off? Missed your poetry for a minute. Good to read again.

Kafui said...

"Money is shit"? Always enjoyed reading fiery poems from you. Love it.

seye said...

Delivered hot! This should make 'a man' go sit down.