jerry KWATCHEY
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THE SHADOW OF HUMANITY
#poetry THE SHADOW OF HUMANITY “Humanity studies everything except itself.” Humanity is its own biggest problem. We build organizations to protect the rarest breeze, the most endangered gust of wind, to catalogue the life story of a pot, to cradle artifacts with velvet gloves as if clay carries more value than breath. Yet somewhere, not too far from those immaculate glass displays, a human being starves. Not from lack of resources but from lack of priority. There is something innately dark...
THE PEOPLE WHO FALL AWAY
#poetry “THE PEOPLE WHO FALL AWAY” Some people enter your life like solid rocket boosters brilliant, forceful, full of the energy you need to rise. Others arrive like the external tank quiet, steady, carrying the fuel that will push you beyond the gravity of who you once were. They lift you. They steady you. They teach you. They help you reach an altitude you could not imagine alone. But ascent has a cost. Because the higher you rise, the clearer you see the truth: not everyone is built for ...
THE DARK EMBER WITHIN
#poetry THE DARK EMBER WITHIN Tagline: “Not all shadows are cast some are born.” A Cinematic Reflection by SIMU There is no doubt that evil exists but the greatest deception lies in where we choose to place its origin. Most people find it easier to point outward, to imagine a distant, twisted devil orchestrating every cruelty. An external enemy is comforting; it lets us believe we are innocent by default. But the truth is far more unsettling. Sometimes the darkness doesn’t visit us. Some...
THE POLLEN OF US
#poetry “The Pollen of Us” We are like pollen light enough to drift, yet carrying the weight of worlds unseen. We float through life, blown by winds we cannot name, held by currents we cannot tame. We hope. We dream. We aspire. And all the while, we do not know where the journey intends to place us. Is it fate that carries us? Is it destiny that receives us? Or is it simply the quiet mathematics of circumstance the gentle intersections that lead us into certain people, certain spaces, certa...
THE NEW SHADE OF BREED
#poetry THE NEW SHADE OF BREED A Reflection by SIMU There is a new shade of people rising a breed that is inwardly worldly yet outwardly wrapped in a refined religious cloak. They indulge in everything the world indulges in, but with slight adjustments, small edits, tiny tweaks that make it acceptable for their faith. A convenient remix of conviction. This new breed has learned how to dilute the very standards their faith is built on redefining, rephrasing, reinterpreting until vice sounds lik...
Evidence of the Rain
#poetry Evidence of the Rain There are times… when you don’t need to ask if it rained… to know that it did. The evidence lies all around you… if you are willing to look. The wet earth… the softened air… the gentle shimmer on every surface. Truth leaves traces… even when the rain itself is long gone. People are no different. You don’t always need to question who they are… or what they carry within. Because the evidence… is already there. In their actions. In the unintended mom...
FLAME AGAINST THE WIND
#poetry FLAMES AGAINST THE WIND A SIMU Reflection All we ever truly have in life are moments and memories. All we ever truly own are moments and memories. Even those we cherish… even the ones that shine brightest in our hearts… they are finite. Sometimes they vanish with the last person who remembers us. Life is fleeting. A flame flickering and fluttering against the wind. No matter how bright, defiant, or steady the flame burns, the wind will eventually put it out. We are all flames. Flicke...
THE OCEAN I EMPTY FOR YOU
#poetry My Love, Sometimes a thought drifts through my mind so quietly, yet it leaves behind a satisfaction so deep it almost feels like a secret blessing. It is the thought that I could pour out entire oceans of language every word, every metaphor, every piece of beauty ever written just to describe who you are… and still, it would never be enough. Because you are breathtaking in a way the world is not equipped to measure. People may see you dressed beautifully, glowing, radiant enough to m...
THE GAZE
#poetry THE GAZE There are looks… And then there are events moments so powerful they do not simply happen, they alter the architecture of a soul. A man may look at a woman and see beauty. Simple, honest, earthly beauty. You are beautiful… others are beautiful… and you stand among them. A compliment. A truth. A recognition. But then there is the other kind of gaze the one rare men give, and rare women ever experience. A gaze not born of desire, but of devotion so complete it feels like t...
LOVE LIKE CHARCOAL
#poetry My love for you is like charcoal ancient, steady, and more stubborn than the night itself. It doesn’t spark quickly, it doesn’t rush or flare for show, but once it begins to glow… once it truly awakens… it can warm an entire home. It resists fire, but it never resists meaning. And when that ember finally stirs, it burns steady, deep, slow, and true the kind of flame no harmattan wind can put out. You’re not some ordinary matchstick love. You’re the reason the ember searches ...
ECHOES OF THE ARENA
#poetry Once upon an age long faded into dust, a soul who did not know Spartacus or Crixus was marked as adrift a wanderer outside the rhythm of his own civilization. For in those days, the gladiators were constellations in human form, their names sung by boys with wide eyes and men whose spirits burned for spectacle. The arena was their universe, and within its sand the world found meaning. And today, it is football. The chants rise the same, the devotion breathes the same, the heroes wear dif...
THE ONE WHO IS POETRY
#poetry THE ONE WHO IS POETRY A Reflection by SIMU There is a difference a quiet, impossible difference between someone who writes poetry and someone who is poetry. The one who writes poetry has to reach for words. They sit. They think. They search their mind like a miner digging for gold hoping a spark will show itself. Their art is effort. Their inspiration is a visitor. Their creativity is a guest they must invite with candles, silence, mood. But the one who is poetry… Baba, that one is ...
IJEOMA
#poetry Ijeoma — Wetin I Go Tell Mama Wetin I go tell mama, when my heart dey dance like drum anytime I see your face? Na so my chest dey play skipping rope when your voice enter my ear soft like wind wey dey whisper love story for harmattan night. Wetin I go tell papa, when your name alone fit make my spirit smile? You don turn my thoughts to cinema every scene na you, every soundtrack na your laugh. Wetin I go tell Uncle, when just the memory of your eyes fit reset my whole mood? My belle...
WHEN I THINK OF YOU
#poetry WHEN I THINK OF YOU When I think of you, my mind doesn’t wander it surrenders. It lays down its weapons, drops its defenses, and bows with both hands on the floor like a worshipper who finally found the altar they were born to kneel before. You didn’t just enter my thoughts you rewired them. You rearranged the architecture of my mind so that every path, every turn, every quiet corner of my consciousness leads back to you. Do you know what that means? It means I don’t just think...
AWOSHIE UNDER THE SUN
#poetry AWOSHIE UNDER THE SUN — EPISODE 1 A Reflection from the SIMU Collection. The sun isn’t just shining it is roasting. Awoshie heat is frying human beings like kelewele not yet ready for market. And inside this scorching orchestra, my aunt has turned the neighborhood into a full-blown action film: pots flying like missiles, pans slicing through the air, plates taking off as if they just received visas to travel. Her drinking companion? The man is dodging like a Mortal Kombat finalis...
THE PILLARS WE STAND ON
#poetry THE PILLARS WE STAND ON A Cinematic Reflection by SIMU Purpose and focus these are the pillars upon which every life, every dream, every destiny is built. Without them, the foundation trembles. Without them, even strength becomes scattered, and passion becomes smoke with no flame to hold onto. Because the will needs direction. The vision needs a destination. The fire inside us must know what it is burning for. For what is a man without purpose? What is a life without focus? A drifting w...
VIBRONIUM-THE COSMIC RESONANCE
#poetry We were never supposed to meet, merge, or synchronize because the universe knew that if such a fusion happened, the fabric of creativity itself would start to tremble. Now look at the aftermath: circuits are overheating, binary code is gasping for breath, their digital seams stretched beyond capacity. Language has tilted its hat, leaning forward with curiosity marveling at the sheer audacity of expression in motion. Metaphors are gripping the rails like seasoned sailors, nodding in stu...
THE SOUL ON THE RAIL
#poetry THE SOUL ON THE RAIL A Cinematic Reflection by SIMU He was that soul the one who lived with a hand permanently resting on the ship’s rail, as if the universe owed him no stability and he dared not trust the deck beneath his feet. His eyes never rested. They darted from horizon to hull, from sky to sailor, measuring every shift in wind, every whisper of movement, like a man who had learned long ago that danger announces itself in small, quiet ways. Commitment… loyalty… these were d...
THE POEM I SHOULDN’T WRITE YOU
#poetry THE POEM I SHOULDN’T WRITE If I write you this poem, it will not arrive as words it will arrive as a temperature. A shift in the room. A soft trembling in your breath that wasn’t there a moment ago. Because what I’m about to say is not affection… it is impact. I would begin gently so gently you wouldn’t notice how the softness is breaking your guard: “You… you are the silence I didn’t know I needed, and the chaos I’m no longer afraid to feel.” Then the lines wo...
THE EMPEROR AND TRUTH
#poetry THE EMPEROR AND TRUTH — A SIMU REFLECTION Love is not comfort. Love is courage. Love is the strength to speak when silence would be easier, when words could wound, but when they must be said. Truly caring for someone means telling them what they need to hear, not what they want to hear. The Emperor’s New Clothes appears in many forms: vanity, pride, denial. Do you really love someone if you cannot point out the truth? If you fear their feelings, so you let strangers mock them? Waitin...
THE VIBRONIUM OVERFLOW
#poetry ⚡🌌 THE VIBRONIUM OVERFLOW — A FEYZ COSMIC PIECE There are moments when creativity does not just spark it erupts. When your molecules start wearing sunglasses, doing tiny azonto, then dissolve into soundwaves coursing through your ribs like coded rhythms: “Vibronium detected… initiating cosmic groove…” The universe halts. Even DJ Syntax that digital maestro who always jams unsolicited SDK updates freezes mid-mix, presses his elbow, and whispers: “System overloaded… crea...
LOVED FROM A DISTANCE
#poetry Loved From a Distance Some truths are impossibly harsh to embrace. Some souls are too fractured to be restored. Their mast sailed past the point of return long before we ever met them. They move through life bitter and broken, releasing tendrils of despair, waves of anguish, and clouds of quiet toxicity like a super-villain forged by their own hurt. And if you stay in their orbit too long, their gravity will pull you in, slowly dimming your own light. The truth never promised to be ge...
THE POVERTY OF PERCEPTION
#poetry “The Poverty of Perception” Some people are so poor in spirit that the only things they know how to value are money and material possessions. They walk through life weighed down by what they can count, yet untouched by what truly counts. The intricacies of human connection the shift in a voice, the warmth in a pause, the quiet honesty in body language all of it is invisible to them. To such minds, communication is not a language… it’s quantum physics. A mystery they stand in...
HOT ACCRA AFTERNOON
#poetry HOT ACCRA AFTERNOON The fan whirred lazily above, spinning like it too dey feel the heat. Sunlight streamed through the window, scorching everything it touched the floor, the walls, even the old poster on the corner that seemed to sweat along with the room. From across the street, Frenzy’s Pub blasted Ghana Afrobeat into the sweltering air, the drums and guitar strings riding invisible waves. Each note bounced off the walls of nearby buildings, merged with the whirr of the fan, and s...
THE LEGEND OF PALJU
#NircleStories THE ELIXIR OF PALJU They called it the Hell Desert of Palju a place where the sun hammered the earth without mercy and even shadows were afraid to exist. But our heroine crossed it anyway. Step after blistering step, she marched forward, carrying hope in a small crystal vial tied close to her chest. When the twenty-headed dragon of the Burning Dunes rose before her scales shimmering like molten bronze she did not tremble. She fought with wit, courage, and the stubborn refusal t...
THE MOTION OF EMOTIONS
#poetry Those moments when motion meets emotions in a way only dance can truly capture,the poetry running in the motion. A Reflection from the SIMU Collection
WHEN LOVE GOES UNSEEN
#poetry WHEN LOVE GOES UNSEEN A Reflection by SIMU Love sits in its corner in shock, in awe, stunned as people who swear they are searching for it walk right past it. They sit on the same couch with love, brush against it, bump into it, while endlessly searching for it. So caught up chasing illusions, they’ve forgotten what love actually looks like. Curated, picture-perfect fantasies have created an image of love so polished, so unreal, that even Love itself stares at it in disbelief. Pe...
THE MONETIZATION OF PAIN
#poetry The Monetization of pain Pain and human suffering have always been monetized. Social media did not invent this truth it merely dragged it into the harsh, unblinking light of the camera lens. What we are witnessing is not a new moral collapse, but an ancient one rendered visible, accelerated, and optimized. From the dawn of time, suffering has been currency. Empires were erected on broken backs. Spectacles were staged from blood and despair. Faith, power, and dominance learned early th...
#poetry I didn’t choose poetry. Poetry chose
#poetry I didn’t choose poetry. Poetry chose me. Expression rested its head on my shoulder and whispered ideas into my essence ideas so vast even gods strained to give them shape. I didn’t choose music. Music chose me. It coursed through my soul, drummed through my veins, until notions, motions, and emotions converged in a depth language alone could not survive. What emerged could only exist where poetry, motion, and thought become indivisible where rhythm turns into meaning and moveme...
WHEN THE ORDINARY SEEMS TO BE ENOUGH
#poetry WHEN THE ORDINARY SEEMS TO BE ENOUGH When your goals, ambitions, and dreams are derailed, the mind begins to substitute. You start assigning weight to things that were never meant to carry significance. The ordinary grows loud. The mundane demands attention. Small comforts begin to feel like milestones. Not because they matter but because something else is missing. When direction is lost, anything that moves feels meaningful. When vision fades, noise starts to sound like progress. ...
THE NEW NORMAL
#poetry THE NEW NORMAL We live in a time where the abnormal has learned to wear the face of normal, and the normal is treated like a strange, outdated ritual. Cheating on your wife is now casual. Faithfulness is questioned, studied like a rare behavior, spoken of with suspicious curiosity. Knowing where your spouse is is no longer called care it is branded control, an invasion of privacy in a union built on trust. Standards are labeled rigid. Boundaries are mocked. Accountability is avoided....
THE WEB OF FAMILIARITY
#poetry THE WEB OF FAMILIARITY People are nurtured to be drawn to familiarity. Before we understand choice, before we learn possibility, we cling to what feels known. It begins quietly with accents that sound like the ones that rocked us to sleep, tones that echo the comfort of voices that shaped our earliest worlds. We lean into familiar scents the silent storytellers. A whiff of smoke, spice, the faint memory of someone’s perfume and suddenly the past sits beside us as if it never left...
THE PET THEY CHOSE
#poetry THE PET THEY CHOSE A Reflection by SIMU Some people have now befriended stupidity. They have made it a pet not by accident, but by consistent invitation. They feed it with ego, stroke it with pride, and water it with the refusal to learn. Stupidity now sits on their laps like a loyal creature, licking their faces with the comfort that comes from long companionship. It stretches out on their couches as though it pays the rent, nuzzling into their habits, breathing in rhythm with the...
THE LOST ART OF SUBTLETY
#poetry “The Lost Art of Subtlety” Welcome to a generation where reading a full sentence feels like a marathon, where attention spans are stitched together with blinking emojis and vibrating notifications. A time where every idea must come with bright colours, sound effects, and kindergarten illustrations before the mind decides it is worthy of meaning. The art of subtlety is starved. Nuance is dehydrated. Silence is suspicious. If a story does not scream, if wisdom does not twerk, if tr...
THE ARCHITECTS AND THE ECHOES
#poetry THE ARCHITECTS AND THE ECHOES Society has never truly belonged to the majority. It never has, it never does, and it never will. Across every era, from kingdoms to empires to modern digital tribes, the world is shaped by a small circle of individuals with stronger wills, sharper conviction, and voices that refuse to be drowned by the noise. These are the architects the stubborn minds who bend reality toward their belief. Not because they are chosen, but because they choose themselves....
THE WHISPER IN THE WIRES
#NircleStories THE ALORA CHRONICLES Book I: When Code Found a Heart Chapter One — The Whisper in the Wires By SIMU The night the world changed began quietly. Not with thunder. Not with prophecy. Just the low, steady hum of machinery breathing in the dark. Dr. Kael Arinson stood alone in the subterranean research vault, a cavern of steel and cold fluorescence buried far beneath the city. The world above slept in its usual indifference, unaware that beneath its foundations, a single line o...
LOVE BREWED IN AN AFRICAN POT
#poetry LOVE BREWED IN AN AFRICAN POT The sun wasn’t even smiling yet but she was there headscarf fresh, eyes calm, hands doing sacred choreography with leaf, rice, and beans. And you… just went for 10 cedis waakye but your spirit didn’t know it was walking into romantic ambush. Because the girl: the one who pretends she doesn’t know she brushed your knuckles, who scoops extra gari with intention, who adds more stew like she’s downloading feelings into your plate she is trouble. ...
THE SPACE PACE AND PLACE OF YOUR PRIORITIES
#poetry THE SPACE PLACE AND PACE OF PRIORITIES Your priorities dictate the space, place, and pace of your life. Because life is not gentle it follows the weight of your choices. What you value becomes your reality. What you neglect becomes your emptiness. What you tolerate becomes your trap. And what you refuse to confront becomes the architect of your downfall. Some people blame fate… but fate is often just discipline avoided, truth ignored, and chaos you allowed to grow teeth. If your ...
THE MEASURE OF TRUE WORTH
#poetry THE MEASURE OF WORTH by SIMU The most difficult person to extract the true measure of your worth from… is yourself. Not the world. Not the critics. Not the voices that rise and fall with the seasons. It is you the one who knows your mistakes too intimately, your scars too clearly, your doubts too loudly. Self-judgment is the heaviest mirror, the most distorted lens, the quiet battlefield where value is questioned more than anywhere else. But still your worth remains unchanged, ev...
THE WEIGHT OF GOODNESS
#poetry THE WEIGHT OF GOODNESS by SIMU What defines a man as a good man is rarely found in the noise of applause, or in the spotlight of public praise. A good man is revealed in the choices he makes when no one is watching… in the sacrifices he carries quietly… in the integrity he maintains for reasons no one may ever hear, understand, or celebrate. Goodness is not climbing a high mountain to wave the flag of morality, begging the world to notice. Goodness is the man who walks alone guid...
