Thursday, January 8, 2026

Turntable


Put the pin/On the turntable

Let it spin/Sway like vegetable

In the pot simmering

It's the communicator

Smooth operator/Boredom fumigator

The lyrical prestidigitator

Chronic regulator/Funk educator

Step off on the wrong foot

S'long as you hit the groove

You're in the right boot

Take a shot it's a loot

My tongue's ready to shoot

Surrender your will

To the control of the wheel

Let it lock the still

With a hint of steel

This jam/Is breaking bad

N' the virus is catching

Yo fan base I'm snatching

Hands up heads scratching

Cold verbs/Non decaffeinated

Got yo dubs/decontaminated

Make yo jaws drop/Like the elevator

I'm the vibe desegregator

On a hitch/I invent a nitch

On the grid/Like hopscotch

The real deal/It's top notch

Like the neighborhood watch

The killjoy's plans I botch 

I'm the rhythm navigator

The funkadelics alligator

All I do is smile

As I watch the blues die

The tears flow from my eyes 

As I spill you on the tiles

There's electric potential

As the track hits a pedestal

The needle slides like a piston

Devastating shots from a pistol

Rock your crib steady

Rock-a-bye baby

Smooth as the underbelly

Of the anaconda 

Unforgettable like Lumumba

I regulate the beat

I'm the Prince of Zamunda

Make you feel the heat

Soon as I get this raccoon

Wrapped up in a cocoon

Get this mix-up dragooned

Vocals put you on chokehold

Make you relinquish yo hold

Step lively/Make you hybrid

Like the holly n' poison ivy

Spin the turntable

My words are imperishable

Ride up your spine

Wheel you with the stars

Like a metrical turbine

Make you yield yo scars

Top of the world Mama

Attack yo feet like a mamba

You do the crazy legwork

Like Jackie Chan/For what it's worth

Make you a rockstar

Like Chaka Khan/I make vowels

That dig deep like trowels

Sink my hits in your bowels

By the power of the turntable

More power than a classic fable

Rock the house from pillar to gable

I bend you to the wheel

Enchant you like an FB reel

Ride it like a 24 inch chrome

Grilling a freshly tarred road

Tracks revive an old chrone

Got her reeling like tadpoles

I can work magic/With a simple lyric

Cause I'm the music manic

I'm the metrical Houdini

I tame a storm like Maldini

I dictate yo heart tempo 

Like the pedal of a Lambo

Regulates its speed

The turntable makes the beat

You're a victim/Stuck in the groove

A bionic tag team 

I got something to prove

I studied yo heart rhythm

So I can do the logarithm

The Jazzonia Langston

Let it flow like Braxton

Strap on my David Jesse

Pack a Kevlar in a jersey

Throw a track

Like a shot from Van Persie

Meters bite like fangs

Got you numb like Van Helsing

I'm Joe Pesci/With a mean twin

Spit tracks n' Macks

Like Liam Neeson

Verbs that battle sharks

In the Deep Blue Sea

Like LL cooking sushi

I waxed my demo 

When Pac was just a teen

Sitting in limbo

I was barely seventeen

Produced by Alby

Where they mastered Blacky

Six tracks at Klinks

Mysterious as a sphinx

Now I rise like a Phoenix

To recover what was jinxed

My life has been a remix

People have tried to steal it

Folks died trying to help me

Killed em off to erase a witness

A diabolic bidness

Just stating the diagnostics

I'm not one to get melancholic

It's the end game logistics

You see life can be ironic

I bring the psychedelic legislature 

To give static a seizure

On a platter of gold at leisure

And it's all my pleasure

The tracks slug you like David

At the battle with the Philistine

The beat bends you like David

Backham's ball doing free kicks

I got the tools and/All the time and

The venom at hand/While the needle

States a deep riddle

It's my duty to decode it

N' with dub molass encode it

Then I release it to the world

Joy to the world like Mariah Carey

Rip off the Mask like Jim Carey

Put your hands up

Stomp bop to the hip hop

I send infidels to the septic 

Those who don't respond to detox

When life gets traumatic

I initiate the funk redux

It works every darn time

The jive runs buck wild

I spy your body language

The turntable is timeless

Transcends time n' age

Like the pyramids of Rameses

The magic is lossless

N' tho football's my favorite sport

I still break it up with Kurtis Blow

Hit you up at the spot 

The electricity's 10,000 volts

When I ride on the turntable

I make bodily atoms unstable

Mountains become movable

No weight is unbearable

Nothing is unbelievable

Anything is possible/That's legal

Throw it up/Make your soul hop

It's a kamikaze/Full clip magazine

Pump you to pump me/That's mean

I'm the greatest poet/That ever lived

Y'all just don't know it yet

Detox the air I can't breathe

The level of mediocrity's toxic

It can make the wildest pig sick

But I'm slick as a toothpick

I coordinate the jamboree 

Like Lionel Richie

I dominate the territory

Like Lionel Messi

I flourish rhapsodies

Regulate the bass with the woofer

I got the power of a bursar

The limerick Yakuza

The needle meanders over 

The groove like the NASCAR

In the deserts of Senegal

I'm a troubador/The whole world

Spins on the needle/Of my turntable

I can get y'all dancing

Throwing it up on the ceiling

Burning up a city

Getting jiggy with it 

I'm glad you could make it

Let the music take you to the zenith

The turntable's another

Flying saucer/Provoking salsa

Spitting exotic flows 

Like unstoppable UFOs

Hug you like a pinafore

With metallic metaphors

I spit it raw from the jungle

Like I'm your big uncle

I'm on the turntable 

You're invited to the banquet hall 

Walk right up to the table

Introduce you to the funk

I'm The Grand Wizard

Eat you up like pizza.


Eneh Koko Akpan 

Saturday, March 2, 2024

Her

Have you seen her
Pretty sure you have
Within the smile
That lights up your face
And puts the glint in your eye
She's the epitome of human grace
Down the corridor
In the dim tones of a faint parlor
Among the jewels
On the gallery of virtue
Have you seen her
Angels peel the layer
Of clouds to ravel her aura
Yet she's a down-to-earth
Woman a real new lease of breath
Her regal moniker
Is written in amber
Water on the sand
An almost divine calligraphy
Stolen from a tablet on pyramids
In the crimson velvet moon
The size of a gold coin
The fetus of nature swoons
Cuddled closer to her loins
Have you seen her
She is like tripping over a memory 
Like a discarded shoe in the dark
And finding the roots of your history
That gets your flame a new spark
Her flair hits different
Like she's God's specimen
His divine sealed testament
To the sons of men
But have you seen her
She's the recondite tail
Of a shooting star
Have you seen her
Regal level of swagger
Burn off the afternoon magma
With a woman's vintage tender
A fading moonlight
A new twilight
Another timeline
She's the giver of life
She has a natural presence
But she ain't no ball of sentiment
She is everybody's Mama
She's everybody's sister
She's everybody's daughter
And she's an especially woman
She's often misunderstood
Thru the light she's construed
Yet she hold up her own
Like she build up a home
She mends a broken bone
By her soft whispered tone
Falling like sheets of snow
Touching soothing the lone
Sentinel in a garden gnome
Have you seen her
In the splendor of the supernova
She splice like a Belle
Never cuts like Jezebel
Her footfall is a lullaby
She's the perfect alibi
To put your soul at rest
On the quest to be the best
Have you seen her
I'm pretty sure you have
She's the Queen of class.

Akpan

Friday, July 1, 2022

POEM #1292: What Papa Gave Me



First of July, 1995, Dad went home to be with the Lord. It's been a tough ride down life's track for me but the lessons he taught me got me counting blessings and thanking God every single day, for giving me a good father. Because Dad was a good father. 
Sir (that's what I called my father), this one's for you.


What Papa gave me
Was faith in my personal skills
A consuming appeal for creativity
And an undying zeal for intellectuality
What Papa gave me was
A fistful of valor
Passed down from a Man of Honor
A spirit that never says die
Papa was the dot on my ‘i’
The inspiration for my flight
What Papa gave me was
A heart after God's heart
A soul that bleeds for the world
He was a man of many parts
What Papa gave me was 
A fiery courage to take up
The baton and continue the glorious
Race that he'd begun
What Papa gave me was
A fervent hope that perseveres
And withstands the bitter years
What a glory it sheds on my way
To this very day
What Papa gave me was
Greater than gold and diamond
It's the greatest love of all
What Papa gave me was
God
In live and living color.

Akpan

Sunday, June 19, 2022

Poem #1291: Juneteenth 2022: Celebrating Freedom




Africa 
Your sons and daughters
Triumph in a faraway land
Freed from all fetters
Travails of our grandmothers
And grandfathers have
Unlocked the prison doors
And made room for the walk to freedom
When God turned again the captivity
Of the children of Africa
We were like they that dream dreams
From our fathers
And carry the glories
From our mothers
Ours is a story scribbled in blood
Stolen from fields of gruesome massacre
Of a people robbed of choice
But free at last
We their chillun
Celebrate the victory of the past
With a resounding blast
Hallelujah we're free at last
No more slaves
But joint heirs of the land
In which our fathers were apes
And our mothers raped
Our freedom is blood bought
And free we shall remain
Whatever the cost.

Akpan 




Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Poem #1289: She Smiles To Conquer

Dr. Coretta Scott King
Civil rights Activist, Founder, The
Martin Luther King Center and wife of
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. This poem celebrates
her life and legacy. She would have been 95 today
.


Girl, if that smile

Ain't bright shinin'

Up in heaven now

Sho' you laid down

Your burdens

Ran up the streets of heaven

Got down to the river

Set down on a recliner

And laid back

Sipping on new wine

Under the Tree of Life

Cause God 

Done tossed the sun

And put your smile up

Girl, if that smile

Don't shine on

A thousand miles

With the joy of the Lord.

You took your smile away

And life's been insane

But you passed the torch

And sparked a marathon

For love and BeLove

Happy Heavenly Birthday

We'll remember you alway

For making a better day…

And for that smile

Lordy Lord, that smile. 


Akpan

Sunday, April 24, 2022

Poem #1288: Hand From A Stranger

Please donate. Click the link: World Food Program


This ain't no fairytale

But it does make

The dam break

It's the stuff you see

On CNN and BBC

And flip the channel

Before it gets too personal

We can't back down

From this urgency of now

We've got to man up,

We that love to love

Must mobilize as one

Against the elements of war

By wielding the weapon

Of compassion

From our heart of hearts

Until we tear apart

The memory of the past

A bit of love turns misery

Into the processing

Of a beautiful story

Like a warm hand

From a stranger

In the dark of night,

Be the shining light

In their turnaround moment

A shade of hope, a respite

From the cruel torment.


Akpan 

Friday, April 22, 2022

Poem #1287: A Different Cloth

Photo Courtesy: UNHCR 

The most important thing

Is not to give in

To defeat

Or fall in the arms of

Hopeless dejection.

Destiny isn't a handout

And you can choose not

To feel letdown

You made it out

You were cut out

For greatness no doubt

Rejection is a lie

Boost that bark with a bite

There's a job title

With your name on it

No time to stay idle

Set your mind on it

This is a diff level of warfare

Not a personal affair

You've been cut

From a different cloth

Keep your head up

And never ever give up.


Akpan

Tuesday, April 19, 2022

Poem #1286: Déjà Vu Encores

Thru the worst level of conflict, Kyiv is still standing.
Their resilience is triumph of the human spirit.
Photo Courtesy: Euronews.com/Facebook
 


Every night

I wanna pick up the phone

And be like

Call you up at home

But now it's always night

Where you once called home

A constant starless midnight

Haunts its skies

Going on and on and on

Like a Déjà Vu encore

I wish to hold your hands

And close the distance

To hold your hurt

Till it hurts to hold

Anymore

And still to hold

Until we share true warmth

Sometimes, I hear your voice

Louder than a train's horns

And when the bombings cease

And the smoke's gone

With the wind

Kyiv is still standing

These words sing

The sweetest music

Hope is a living thing:

Kyiv is still standing.


Akpan

Friday, April 15, 2022

POEM #1285: Nails

Courtesy: Facebook

Don't even think

For a fraction of a minute

He didn't feel the pain

Of the cruel Roman nails

That bore into His flesh

Like unwelcome guests

And pinned his arms and feet

To the hastily carved tree

That hugged Him

Until His final heartbeat

Don't think for a second

When He cried out to God

His despair was an act

He was only playing His part

See the cruelty of the nails

As the debt He paid

To ransom us from disgrace

And save us by His grace

For as the nails were real,

Even as the pain was real,

Even so the guarantee

Of our redemption is real.


Akpan 

Monday, April 4, 2022

Poem #1284: Elisha's Bones

In honor of Dr. Martin Luther King on the
 54th anniversary of his assassination.

Struck down
But not destroyed
He wears the crown
And still raises from the dust
Those cast to the ground
Like Elisha's bones
His words
Produce hormones
That makes a corpse
Rise again
Makes broken hearts
Beat again
Over n' over
Flowing down like a river
To bountifully water
A million seeds
That sprout into trees
Bearing fruit of justice
Righteousness and love
They bear the torch
He passed on
When he passed on
His words
Still spark a good fight
Like Elisha's bones
Giving brand new life.

Akpan

Friday, March 25, 2022

Poem #1283: Magartu Dedefi, Esq.

Magartu lost her sight as a toddler. At age eight,
she was forced to flee her home in Ethiopia.
She settled in Kakuma Refugee Camp in Kenya
where she excels her peers in academics.
She dreams of becoming a lawyer.
Photo Courtesy: UNHCR


And still we see her rise

Walking on the sunshine

Her face lit up in a halo

That forecasts tomorrow

In live and living color

From war

To take the world

She blind

But she ain't no beggar

She looks just fine

And all set to be a lawyer

Her big dreams

Rattle the glass ceiling

She won't balk

In the face of competition

With her peers

Who ain't visually impaired

She lost her sight

But found the fight

For people deprived

Of their rights

As a platform to thrive

And her smile says it all

She knows she has it all

On her own terms

She wants it her way

No freebies, on equal terms

She'll rest her case.


Akpan

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Poem #1282: Holodomor Legacy

Nursing Ukrainian mother victim
of Russian shelling.
Photo Courtesy: @Kateryna_Kruk (Twitter)

Starting with the Red Terror of 1918, Lenin and Stalin shared responsibility—by enforced famine, brutal imprisonment, mass killing, ethnic cleansing or assassination—for the deaths of some 20 million. (Coincidentally, Lenin and Stalin shared the same cook—the grandfather of current Russian President Vladimir Putin.) — Smithsonian



Your grandfather

Cooked for Lenin

Went further

To do for Stalin

Both Mass murderers

And Genocidal Twins

Along came Vladimir

To correct past sins

To shine the light down

And cut darkness like a shroud

Instead you and your boys

Trying to decide

Flashing lethal toys

You indulge genocide

To correct previous genocide

You know better, Putin

If you know grandpa's legacy

Remember Holodomor

And its inhumanity

Remember the perpetrator

Joseph Stalin

Creating artificial famine

Starving Ukrainians

To death

In Donetsk and Luhansk

They call it Hunger-death

Holodomor in Ukrainian

He filled that part

Of Ukraine with Russians

Now Vlad gone mad

Makes to claim

The very same

Parcel of land

In Ukraine

For Russia

Reliving your grandfather's

Evil genius Master's

Legacy ain't you

Get ready to lose

History will record you

On a list for fools.


Akpan

Friday, March 18, 2022

Poem #1281: Silence Of The Children

No change of clothes, no toys for the kids,
hiding in a room while war rages outside.
Photo Courtesy: Facebook/Newsweek


The clothes on their back

Emphasize their lack

And they can't go back

Stuck in some basement

In stack abasement

Men, women n' kids in

A den no bare necessities

In a room crowded out

War rages outside

Children hunker down

Uncertainty wracks each mind

No toys

To lighten the mood

No choice

But stay in the room

No noise

To get in the groove

Boredom

Contends with gloom

Bombs done

Increased the ruin

No fade to happy days

Wish that was the case

In a country

Where kids can't play

And run wild and free.


Akpan

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