Poetry Corner with Kwesi Bissue : An Un-Beggarly Wage


I had my twins in the stable

My twins of taboo turned the tables

To sell me fables to tell all

To turn me into a widowless  mother of two

With open arms for alms for two

Of two who may curse or bless

Of two for whom alms were the only balm

Always living on alms

In my arms

For a ritual


I can only en-vision by in the night

Visions of day not like visions of night

Seeing all who ought to see me

Seeing…but not seeing all who want to see me

That I am not blind from the beginning

I am blind just for daily gleaning

Pleading with beaming seeing eyes

Behind the cloud of my cloaked vision


I am a cripple by earthly calling

Crippled by multiple masquerading

Crippled by cerebral pretences

Far from poliomyelitis

Crabbing and crawling for a grabbing

Grabbing just like a goblin

Grabbing from all who would donate to my unworthy claws and crawls


I have skin lesions

From lessons I learned from sore skins

I have learned to lie with limbs

Limbs left to lie in blisters and plasters

Always leaning on lean toes and fingers

To tell all that I am a leper


Help then came from Macedonia

From a major donor

Begging me to desert my begging misdemeanor


My demeanour shouted an outrage

Wait till you count my wage

My beggarly wage

Wait till you mount my valley

My valley of depravity

Wait till you step into my shoes

My shoe of poverty


Whisper in my ear what you would do in my shoes

Whether dripping honey in your alms you would refuse

Or choose to accrue

Whisper in my ear brother

Which you would choose


From my earnings they earned a living

Those carting me across roads

And cutting the edges for me to cross over

Pledging to work for me

Over and over


Come shine or rain

Pledging to be there

At my beck and call

With open arms to collect alms









Schemes… to earn a living


From the lexicon of the disabled fellow

Disability has never been seen to follow

In the path of inability

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