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Best Poems Written by Isiaka A. Kromah

Below are the all-time best Isiaka A. Kromah poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Isiaka A. Kromah Poem

Who Am I

Who am I?

I am a lion who comes out as a goat
I am an ocean with waves big enough to drown
I am a child of Mesopotamia 
A descendant of Shaka Zulu
Baptized in the Nile
I depict the sword of Mansa Musa

I am the backbone of civilization
An icon of emancipation
I represent the pyramid of Giza
And the lighthouse of Alexandria
A symbol of hope 
And an emblem of freedom

I am a depiction of Chinua Achebe ink
An illustration of the hieroglyphic 
I am the carapace of Hannibal
And the shield of Tunka Manin
I am a player of the djembe
And the author of Sundiata Epic

I am an inheritor of Timbuktu 
A citizen of Kumbi-Saleh
A compadre to Askia Muhammed
And a son of Mansa Musa
A follower of Kwame Nkrumah
And a kinsman of Ahmet Sekou Toure

I am the native son of Gao
A fisherman of Lake Victoria
A Tuareg from the Sahara 
I hailed from the cradle of life
I am the black in Panther
And this is really who I am, A black man.

Details | Isiaka A. Kromah Poem

She Walks Like Poetry

She chooses to live 
a life of style ,
A life where her story 
Will be told using stanza
Rhyme and conclude in verse.

A story which will be
 Written using metaphor and 
Simile to illustrate her  
Personification as an elegant 
beautiful creature 

 She chooses to be poetic,
Ironically she was still prosaic
Every day of her life 
Trying to fake it
 till she makes it 

She wanted to take the Road that is less travel 
The road that diverges 
Into two different paths
She took the prosaic 
But walk the poetic

Details | Isiaka A. Kromah Poem

Land of the Free Liberia

Land of the Free


Oh! Thou sweet land of the free, ????

You paved the way so others could find their ways

Where men of letter fought for a better day, 

And find solutions without delay.
 

Oh! The first daughter of Africa ????

Your children lied in a chronic state, 

 as certain 'negatives' have long assumed the 
roles of 'positives' in their internal system, 

And the govern has become ungovernable.


Oh! Belove mama Liberia ???? 

Your children are ruled by People who only let their bias egos and emotion speak for them. 

People who cannot address their fellow people without reading it from the papers!

Every word they say is what their hearts never possessed nor desire.



Oh! The first star of the white man's grave????

Agony has become the crying concern of your children, 

Crying for liberation in the hands of the oppressor 

Their cruel wicked hands have turned our situation into a desperate one


Oh! Mama, you children can't bear it any longer????

They are now surviving instead of living, 

Should they die hoping for better days, 

Or keep surviving the horrible ways,

Details | Isiaka A. Kromah Poem

I Saw God Today

I met God today for the first time 
I met God at where the sunset And the twilight smile from. 
 
I met God at where the tsunami hop 
Where calm ripple play jingle to the ear 
Where the tide dance to mother nature 
 
I met God today for the first time 
Where still breeze creeps from all sides 
Where atmosphere frown at dusk 
 
Where earth takes on silence as a garment  
Where birds fly across the horizon 
Where nature appreciate itself 
 
I saw God today 
I saw his fingerprint in these things  
I saw how glorious he is  
 
I finally get to see God, today

Details | Isiaka A. Kromah Poem

How Can I

Tell me
How can I pay back someone,
who broke my heart and left me devastated,
after all the dances in the garden of Eden.

Show me
How can I join my broken bones with pains, to tell a girl or a lady I love her, forgetting the past? 

Teach Me 
How can I really be the perfect  partner she will ever have ,when love has only play me fault not fair

Inform me 
Where will I found a girl that will dance to the melody of my life, even when difficulties intrude.

Guide Me 
How should I treat a lady that has vow to be my Eve and prepare to take my pain and use my name ,after my love I once planted have vanished in the breeze that blows in harmattan.

Advise me
How can I be in love again?

Details | Isiaka A. Kromah Poem

The Culture Lives

The culture lives

The transfer of traditional song sound like an orchestra
playing a symphony in a ti ton ton tu ti move
I heard a child being lulled with a native song
“Don’t cry o baby your ma la iron soap
Don’t cry o baby your pa la iron soap”
It is a song that kept us all in bed
I missed hearing the lullaby 
This cradle song was used to put us all to sleep 
The culture still lives and it dwells in all of us




Note: Dedicated to every Child that heard the sound of these sweet rhymes.