When The Room Is Empty

Holding On

‎We were taught:

‎“do unto others

‎as you want done to you.”

‎Now we live by:

‎“do unto others

‎as they will do to you.”

‎No one gives

‎what they would deny themselves.

‎I feel you most

‎when the room is empty,

‎and lose you

‎when you everywhere is full of you. 

‎What you give

‎returns as a mirror.

‎We buried the old law,

‎but its stones still weigh our pockets.

‎We speak grace easily,

‎yet measure our lives

‎with old scales.

‎So we walk forward,

‎With hands full of yesterday

A poem Written by S Kojo Frimpong 

 

Weight Of Existence

 ‎

‎I am a free spirit.

‎If you open your eyes or if you have the eyes of the heart, you will see through the ordinary to the extraordinary in me.

‎I do not fight for myself alone; I fight for all.

‎Whether you realize it or not, we are fighting a familiar war, and we are in this together.

‎Do not wait for your cup to run over before you share

‎For what you share might be in vain 

‎It might be too late and the damage of your folded arms 

‎Might never be reversed or even undone 

‎You can choose to fight for yourself only,

‎You can think about yourself only and that is also fine

‎Putting yourself first is not always selfish 

‎But the day the full weight of existence falls on your shoulders, remember this: I have always been the living definition of "no man is an island."

‎Sometimes it is very good we put others first 

‎It is normal to give to others while you starve 

‎Because one day that little seeds you sowed 

‎Might grow to become giants oaks that will shelter

‎And feed you someday and if it doesn't too

‎One day you will be remembered as the good farmer 

‎Who put all aside just to turn the world green 

‎

Back To December

 He booked the rain for Christmas Day.

It arrived late

typical.

Even prophecies struggle with Ghana-man-time.

December cleared its throat in protest.

Harmattan had already clocked in:

dry, dusty, dependable.

But rain showed up anyway,

uninvited,

like a guest who refuses to leave,

“God sent me.”

Now everyone is a meteorologist.

Everyone’s a theologian.

The sky sneezes and Twitter screams,

“CONFIRMATION!”

At Rapperholic, the script changed.

God reveals to redeem.

Ah yes

the spiritual “terms and conditions.”

Because when nothing happens,

it’s some form of mercy. 

When something happens,

it’s prophecy.

When anything happens at all,

God was involved somehow.

The rain itself is confused.

It falls in small doses

trial version rain.

Not enough to drown anyone,

just enough to say

“Don’t relax yet.”

Is this begining of the end being foretold 

or the end of common sense?

Here, an ark can mean anything.

Today it is salvation.

Tomorrow it is content.

Next week it is a business opportunity.

Faith is flexible, it bends to fit the narrative

and never breaks accountability.

The inconsistencies don’t prove a lie.

They prove something funnier, no one really knows,

but everyone is pretending they do.

So, the rain falls in December,

the clouds plead the fifth,

and we stand in harmattan,

wet, suspicious,

laughing nervously

while calling coincidence

a sign.

Written By S Kojo Frimpong

April's Open Secret

It is the first day of a brand-new 

A new dawn moonshines on us,

Causing rays of sunlight on our faces,

With every reflection of the new blessing.

The goddess Venus has opened a door,

Spreading love, growth, and fertility.

Her touch makes hearts and flowers soar,

Unfolding dreams in serenity.

April arrives with hands stretched wide,

Unlocking paths once left unseen.

New doors swing open, hopes collide,

With whispers of what’s yet to be.

Yet laughter drifts upon the air,

A day of jest both bright and sly.

April Fools—beware, take care,

For truth and trick may dance nearby.

But joy and wonder intertwine,

A month of promise, light, and cheer.

For in the mirth, the stars align,

And life’s best moments shine most clear.

Despite all the joy and the merry, irritations are birthed,

So you better beware, let your guard down

Before you fall victim to April’s jest,

A gentle way of welcoming the jest,

To the beauty of the month April.

HERE

Many voices and unheard songs  

Hovering on these empty streets  

Filled with many lucid dreams and hopes  

Unwritten stories and songs  

Flood these streets with no voice to utter  

But I chanced on one today  

Without a voice, he spoke  

And it kept playing somewhere in a corner of my mind  

With the lyrics written all over him  

He said  

"It was never my intention to be here  

I once had a voice but no story  

Or even a lyric to sing  

I was drenched in this happiness  

Until the roof caved in on me  

And everything came rushing down  

And now I have many songs of many colours to sing  

No matter how hard I scream  

The world wouldn't listen  

The world is deaf and I am dumb  

I may have to learn to walk on water without drowning  

Just to lead me out of these streets  

I have no home, I am not homeless  

Just that this hopelessness  

Has rendered me homeless  

The streets have sheltered me ever since my back got broken against the wall  

By the same hearts that built it  

So I fell from the skies only to find there was never a heaven on earth  

Because home was just an egg, it breaks too easily"

Title; HERE

A Poem Written By

S Kojo Frimpong 

© August 2020

The Serpents Song

I showed you the tree of life,

You fed yourself with the forbidden fruit

 Beautifully carved on the breast of the woman

 And death was the price of her feast 

I still do not get why man should be punished,

For following my lead. 

Even the Maker knows You were mortals

And no match for these honey lips 

But God always has a plan I suppose 

Man was made in His own image 

Yet man can never be like Him 

Not even me, the serpent can understand

 The way He flags His wings

 Across the secret skies.

Four Letters

 Love has four letters, and so does April, a month of love in abundance,

Where hatred grows because of its first-day prank,

And laughter spreads in our hearts from the jest we make.

In this month, strength is born, marking the beginning of all weakness,

For love flows deeper than in February’s embrace.

And cusps are born to exhibit the true powers of the cosmos,

Wielded by the sons and daughters of Aries and Taurus,

Who wore their birthday suits from the 19th to the 23rd,

Through the able eyes of astrological findings.

I am a 19th-born, somewhere between the 19th and 23rd,

Making me not only a cusp but also the fusion of fire and earth.

I therefore bear the cusp of power,

Where Aries’ fire meets Taurus' grounding force.

I lead, yet I follow the whispers of the wind.

I burn with fire, yet find solace in the calm of the soil.

Restless in spirit, yet patient in pursuit,

A warrior who fights, yet knows when to yield.

I am the spark that ignites and the ember that remains,

A force of chaos, yet a master of order.

I am both the storm and the shelter,

The beginning and the end—forever caught in between.

By S Kojo Frimpong 

Golden ; A Poem written by S Kojo Frimpong & Manuella Makafui Kudjo

 S Kojo Frimpong

In the land of the blind,

The one-eyed man is king.

In the land of the deaf,

Can we find the one who hears with only one ear?

Anybody can become king,

Only if everyone plays dumb.

But silence has a price to pay,

It is golden.

The price of our silence crowned a mad king—

One who can see, hear, and speak,

Yet is very blind, deaf, and dumb.

How can a kingdom strive?

Manuella Makafui Kudjo

When the king is more blind than the blind,

When the king is more deaf than the deaf,

When the king is more dumb than the dumb,

How can a kingdom strive?

When the king is more dead than the buried man,

And refuses to listen, see, and hear

From those who can see, hear, and talk,

All because the mad king perhaps thinks

He is better than the rest of his people.

King, listen!

The deaf pleads.

King, see!

The blind man begs.

The dumb man signs,

And together they cry, King, think!

Even the madman makes his point—

Why have a voice, sight, and hearing

When you cannot think, reason, and lead?

You lead your people to doom

With your foolishness.

If I cannot see, hear, or talk,

At least I can think.

But, unfortunately, my great king

Has a voice, eyes, and ears—

Yet he cannot think.

Why have eyes, ears, and a mouth

When it is the mind that controls them all….

What happens when it ceases to function?

IMMORTALITY

 Love is a universal antidote we all need to live forever

Without love we will all perish, love is all that kills us

Love is a slow killing drug that takes life in place of death

Wondering why? Allow me to show you how

Love is so strong that it makes you weak

So protective that it makes you vulnerable

Like a shield of the heart it allows it to crush so hard

Leaving it shuttered into many tiny pieces

Love is sweet, it is made of so much pain

Which can leave you wandering and crying in the rain

Love makes us see rainbows but making us blind

But in all things, don’t love if you want to die

Love if you want to live forever because that is all we need to live

Like I said in the first line, ignore the second and third line

And focus more on the last line I am about to pen down

Love kills you by making you live forever, love is immortality

Title: Immortality 

Written by S Kojo Frimpong

Back In The Days

 Back in the days, when everything used to be so green

I was just little by then and everything seemed too big

And now that I am old everything keeps getting bigger

Deep down inside my heart is an enormous sea of tears

With every blink of the eye it floods down like a river

Gushing out of my eye balls like a water fall with no fear

Whenever I reminisce about the very good old days

When everything used to be so green and the future so bright

But now looking forward into the past, there is nothing called future

And looking back into the future I see nothing called past all because

We are all living in the present and the past is long gone without a future

A poem written by S Kojo Frimpong

 

There Comes A Time

 There comes a time

Where I will talk no more

My voice will echo yet unheard

You can feel it in every whisper of the wind

I will be a ghost in your dreams and nightmares

There comes a time

Where I will cry no more

My tears will form in the open skies

And pour as rain. 

I will smoke and fill the air

With my fumes

And my smiles will be manifested

In the sun sun and glittering stars

There comes a time where you will see me no more

You will yearn for more of me

And get none of me

Except for my mortal remains

Which will turn to dust 

In my tomb will you visit regularly

Only to one day see my scatred dried bones

Disappear right under your nose.

Now I am phantom

Scaring people in their dreams

And entertaining them in their night mares

Appearing in the whirl winds

And hiding in the shadows of the moon light

I will come from the opening skies

Amidst the sun and the moon

With the Stars blowing trumpets

And the birds singing melodies

And beating drums to announce my departure

I will no longer be your pet

Because I will command respect

From all who took me for granted

When I Was Little, A Poem Written By S Kojo Frimpong

 When I was little I wanted to be a spy

But I never knew why I wanted to be one

Or even understood why I had to be a spy

Until now that I still have so many unanswered questions

Hovering in my head like scavengers

Waiting to feast on my dead brains

At any least given chance

Why were we kept from so many secrets?

When they knew it will one day be open themselves to us

I wanted to become a spy so I could

Figure out what goes on behind closed doors

When lovers are coiled inside blankets

I wanted to also know how our parents

Did their magic that brought forth

One of our kind every four years

I wanted to find what was hidden

Behind the deep blue skies

And the deep blue seas

I wanted to find out what goes on behind closed doors

And inside the dark when all the lights go out

But now I realise every secret is open

There are no secrets but mysteries

So I am a spy and I know not

What I am seeking but I will know

When I finally meet who I have been

Seeking for right from birth

I will realise I was finding myself

And I didn't know I was lost

By S Kojo Frimpong 

ADWA

You asked me about the war of Adwa,

I asked if you had forgotten that

The thief only came to steal, to kill, and to destroy.

You asked me about how we lost ourselves

I asked you if you have forgotten how

Like a plaque, they have coerced us to let go of ourselves?

Altering our culture and religion

And holding us in captivity like the Israelites

In the hands of the Egyptians.

I spoke truth:

Truth be told this is not a fairytale

It only happened 126 years ago

That when told,

It sounds so fiction in your ears.

Unlike Moses, our savior did not come with a rod, he was

Chaperoned by his youthful brother.

But are histories not stories?

The legend of how traditional warriors

farmers, and pastoralists

As well women conquered a well-armed

And highly apt alien troops in the northern town of Adwa, Ethiopia

Adwa still stands as a testament

To what Africans can do when we reach jointly as one

Today I remind you about not only the victory of Emperor Menelik

And the populace of Ethiopia

But I am painting you an illustration of an everlasting ink

How Adwa veered around into the symbol of redemption

And liberation for the whole of Africa

A Poem Written By S Kojo Frimpong

There She Goes

There she goes

Clothed in gold but covered in mud

Framed with disgrace yet full of grace

Ill painted with fornication

And awaiting to be crowned with a protruding belly But

Early before the sun rise, she swings her waist

Before glittering eyes, beaming with anger

Iced in fear, she limps on a leg

With a pot placed on her head

But her smile shone brighter than the sun

A symbol of beauty she was

She passed the test of tradition

With many unanswered questions clinged to her success

Time after time she will be head lined

As the line between man and the gods

For none has ever defied the gods

And lived to write their biography

Slowly, she retracts her steps majestically

Into the mouth of the river

Over the banks are jeering inhabitants

Waiting for her to be swallowed whole

Into the belly of the sacred river god

But she walks on the water lightly like a feather

A proof of her innocence which could be tested all over her face

Right from the on set

Then suddenly I emerged from nowhere

Took the pot from her head

And filled it with contents of the sacred water

Carried her shoulder high and walked 

Through the flooded path towards home

 Used or abused probably, Only the gods could vindicate 

But she was a miracle I held in my sleep

And I still wander if such beauty could ever be contained

On this earth, then I heard a voice in my head

"It was just a dream" but I hope to visit

again someday soon just to see how the story goes

And maybe write the end of this beautiful story

A poem by S Kojo Frimpong

AHMADIYYA

Yesterday, God sent me a poem

A madrigal beautifully crafted

From the muds of Eden

I prayed for a godsend

But He epitomized His artistry through the beautiful art of work

Wonderfully and beautifully sculptured to me as a present

Prepared to haul into the future with me 

But tomorrow is never certain 

Because the world is brightened by darkness

The night has become the light of the day 

But she moonshines the twilight with her smile

Burning a mile away from heaven

Cooling my gates of hell

Yell her name "Ahmadiyya" and with the sound of trumpets,

Heavens will tremble with joy

Amidst thick clouds of dust

As Angels and demons stomp their feet

In attention position on the clouds

Flooding the earth with downpours

I can't depict what greeted my sights

In this poetry of the Creator

As much as I try to read 

Most of the lines are metaphors

Discernible but hard to figure out

The entire contents and essence 

But from head to toe was she shrouded in a veil

And she seeks the creator from the face of the West

With her head buried in the sand

I don't know what God looks like

But I know for sure that

God is a poem, a beautiful story

Written to us in our sleep

For our eyes are too sightless

To see the real grandeur

Of the creator's writings in molding these daughters of Eve

Written By;

S Kojo Frimpong

A Nation Falling To Pieces

 Ever heard of untold stories before?

Before the beginning of time,

Time never lived here

So we placed our trust in no one

But the clocks in our minds

One day, our nation shall rise

Rise again

But it falls again in the end

What shall become of our dreams

Of flying high above like an eagle?

The country, we both love, is falling into pieces

The country, Kwame Nkrumah, formed on the dead bodies of warriors,

With the sweat and blood of our forefathers

Is now left rotting to nothingness

It is breaking down in front of us like the walls of Jericho

So tell me how can a country fly like it is supposed to

If it keeps sinking in the quick sand?

A Poem Written by, S Kojo Frimpong

Valar Morghulis

 Valar Morghulis, that is what she said to me

Our love was eternity yet you stripped

The cloak of immortality

You see,our love was never meant to die

But all men must die and return

Back to their creator in dust

As he sits on the heavenly throne

Watching you atone for your deeds

Our love knew no boundaries

So where from this border?

At this same busy bus stop 

I booked your flight

Our speeding train became static 

And moved nowhere

A destination so unknown yet very familiar

In the abyss of every broken heart

If everything that has a beginning

Has an end, then there are no immortals

So I scream in my deepest silence

Valar Morghulis, Valar Morghulis

Is there something you can't ever take?

You make love an endless voyage

Because it is a course no man can undertake

A distance no man can overtake

Yet we all endeavour and end up with a heart to devour

Because love these days is a game

You can never win without money and fame

By S Kojo Frimpong

I AM

 Sometimes my writings even scare me

but I write what's deeper than the oceans

And that might make you think I don't know God

But "I Am that I Am 

because

 I have the “I Am” in me

I Am Kojo

And I am not God

Neither bigger than God

But I am just a body of art

A masterpiece of craft

That defines

The "I Am”

I am not perfect but my creator is

And that is why we portray

The grand alchemist

In many different ways

That always lead to the same way,

 The truth and the light

Nobody goes to the Father

Except through you

So be the best that you are meant to be

Be the best of you, to be

The "I Am"

FEARLESS; A Short Story

Out of the crowd gathered at the scene, He came out of nowhere,stood in front of the armed robbers Unarmed. Spoke out loud with confidence and boldness. One could feel a burning flame in the words that came out of his mouth. And in his eyes one could see the look of an angered beast trying to unleash from within him. Just one cold stare at the robbers sent shivers and cold through their spines. Right in front of the crowd was I with a gun pointed at my head. With four men armed to the teeth threatening to run a bullet through my brains. With a cold smile I spoke out loud

"What makes you think I fear death anyway

I have held live bodies in my arm and watched them turn cold

I watched as life bodies turn lifeless

Even to the extent of helping some go quick

I gave them quick and painless death

I dare you pull that trigger right now

For I have seen worse than this

And worse than this I have done

I watched people in the eye,and they felt colder than death itself

I don't care about where I will die,when,and how I will die

We shall all be carried shoulder high to six feet below

The ground in our wooden self contained

Even if the guns do not talk to the skies when I am gone,

Heavens will talk to the earth with a deep mighty roar"

With this one of the gun men shockingly left his weapon on the ground. I walked to him took the gun and gave it back to him. He was shaking as if being kept in a deep freezer already. I continued

"Kill me,I am not alive

Take my life,I have none

My life is less,I am lifeless

I love my life, its distasteful

Pity me not,I pity you

Brave hearts,Cowards! You are'

Bravery is standing on your own with out help

 Bravery is standing up for others

Helping less the helpless

Is cowardice,think twice

These people are helpless against your arms

Spare them and take mine,I have nothing"

As I spoke I went closer,held the Ak 47 riffle and pointed it to my head, shot I ordered. And there he stood shivering with his riffle in hand and sweating like it was raining on him. Walking to him he shouted

"Move no further or you will force me to shot"

"I...I...I...mean it" he continued stammering

Still moving forward as he was unheard of but right in front of me he stood. He shot and missed even though I was close enough to him. I smiled calmly stretched my hands and held the gun,pointed it to the ground and ordered the hostages to go. Seeing to it that all hostages are freed,I turned the guns back pointing at me. One attempted attacking from behind but without looking back I grabbed him by the neck and there we stood with his legs dangling in the air. His colleagues upon seeing this took to their heels. Sooner had they left than the police arrived on the scene, cuffed him and drove away. They were just on time to save the dangling man from suffocating. With an applause from the crowd I jumped back on my bike and disappeared with a flash in the dark. Later that evening it was announced the other three accomplices were found tied at the entrance of the police station. And on the news papers articles that read

I don't know that man neither have I heard of him but what he did back there was what I term as foolishness not,Rather it was fearlessness,heroism,and bravery,recklessness, but in the end he saved us all

Written BY

S Kojo Frimpong

The New Musical Queen From Ashaiman, Meet Quen Debz

  In love with music her whole life, Deborah Osei joined the entertainment scene officially, in 2017 under the moniker Quen Debz. Intrigued with stage crafts and great musical records and making crowds of people dance, she taught herself how to blend modeling and making music. From listening to radio shows, watching dance moves on YouTube and numerous fashion shows, She further mastered this craft and was able to bring smoother designs and style in beauty cosmetics. Growing up in a predominately popular Hiphop, Afro Fusion and Reggae Dancehall environment, Quen Debz naturally embraced the culture and started writing her own songs and also seeking most help from Lyriqalbeatz in composing and writing her own songs

In 2017, Quen Debz rocked the college scene and slowly gained a fan base which led her to dominate the college market, especially in Danbesco. With her roots lying in Ashaiman Tulaku, She traveled back and forth to do special events and hood parties.Quen Debz hosted several pool parties and events. This familiarized her with all aspects of the entertainment business.

This gave her the spotlight of being signed by one big record label but things didn't work out as expected so she started her own movement by deciding to create her own Team with the help of Lyriqalbeatz Gh, S Kojo Frimpong ( Kay Pee The President), and her family who have been very supportive in her musical career.

Since June 25 2000 that she was formally introduced into the world by birth, Quen Debz has always been different. Her passion and determination to become famous has always been clear. She has one video doing well on You Tube dubbed Mona Moblɛ and the audio also doing well on various streaming platforms as well. 

You can follow her on all social media platforms Quen Debz to find out more about her latest and upcoming projects