The Three Witches Poem by Kojo Owusu

Animistic heath – the withered conclave of three hideous heretics
On the crossroads of the barren waste they haunt with talons of awe
Shriveled – cloaked in scarlet of blood of apostasy
In shy posture they are huddled together with the wand of illusion
Mirrors of necromancy and lips prophesying doom
Clanging metatarsals doing a dance macabre on the banks of the river of blood
Encircled by labyrinths of ever-burning fire.
Ready lips to imprecate the benediction of Hecate

On the morass of humanities’ filth they fly with their swift broomsticks
In the recess of the dark vagaries of the imagination they will forever haunt
The lone house when woman hood denigrated on the shores of birth
When repugnant paeans are culled out of love words
From the princess to the prostitute
The keeper of the house to the abominable withered hag
When debased avarice is satiated on the brittle planks of blood
The wizard will cry helpless on tender laps and caring hands


The emergence of a hero of heroic birth and personage
The skies will shower praises on the heroic acts of men
In medieval quagmire of filth no wizard was ever hanged
Salem will throng the gates of Gehenna for witch trials
And the most accomplished man a wizard – elevated to solemn grandeur
From primal beginnings the tender heart is fed with crude mystification
Taught to be submissive – they deem it their nature to be submissive
When they succumb to the dogmatic believes of men
The men get absolute control over them

Sibyls and hags, sisters three – on the tripod is the pot of ritual and blood
Where you have a clear view of how you have being trampled
Denigrated and dehumanized
Your dignity and integrity is at stake
From creation deemed inferior and worthless – playthings
Look at the blood in the pot on the tripod and recite incantations
Sibyls and hags – sisters three recite the esoteric words to counteract
The evil and avaricious ideology of the insensible hounds of hell
Be vociferous sisters three – voice out your pains and anguish
In the dungeon of despair – speak out loud and clear
For in their shadowy night hung rhetoric of deceit
Recite the incantatory words of fire for recognition and respect
In the society you have created

Why do you give birth to kings and queens and be their slaves
With the magic wand, waive of the wraith of inferiority
The buzzing omen of eternal blame of weaker vessels
Let the voice who will whisper destroyers vanish to the gloomy grave
The voice gathering momentum resurrect your
Falling image in the quagmire of filth

Now on the flying broomsticks gain Arial height and rain down all
The tatters that has bound your hearts and souls for centuries
Shed the dirty rags of inferiority and timidity down to the abyss of oblivion
For the horizon is glittering with the pearls of your emancipation
Fly in the sky sisters three – witches and hags
Fly in the sky with your broomsticks for your liberation is at hand
Equality that you seek for is scatted like the stars in the sky to brighten
Your world of eternal darkness
Fly with your flying broomsticks witches three
And in ecstatic jubilation proclaim your liberation.