The LoveRehab

Delasi K. Anyah

The LoveRehab

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior consent of the publishers.

The Love RehabCopyright 2014 Delasi Kekeli Anyah

Editor: Marissa GlaubermanCreative Assistance: Tony Nagai & Sajata HowellBook Design: Delasi Kekeli Anyah & Akua Pomaa Opoku

Delasi Kekeli Anyah would like to extend his gratitude to the following individuals: Ben Anang, Natasha Naa-Odaaley Mills, Maame Esi Codjoe, David Ato Sarbah, Jason Mills-Lamptey, Mawunyo Tamakloe, Tony Nagai, Sajata Howell, Marissa Glauberman, Akua Pomaa Opoku, Harrison Otu & Emma Aphya Donkor.

The book would not have been possible without the intercession, love and support of Dad, Mum, Dzifa, Emefa & Kafui—my family.

DELA ANYAH COMPANY LIMITED“High Fashion for the Mind.”www.delaanyah.com

ISBN: 978-9988-1-9787-2

©

Ad maiorem Dei gloriam

And because iniquity shall be multiplied, the love of the many shall wax cold. But he that endureth to the

end, the same shall be saved.(Matthew 24:12-13)

PART TWO

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BordelloHer parents divorced when she

was just a youngster,

So Mummy worked two jobs to feed her,

But loneliness made her feel mummy didn’t need her.

And her teachers made her feel hope would never find her.

She yearned for love amongst ducks and, in turn, they called her plain ugly;

She yearned for love amongst quacks, so his gentle touch made it seem as though he cared.

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She was jinxed by his persona, so her lonely heart gave him all of her,

But their relationship turned cold, after they reached the climax.

He had no where else to go;

Her sky was his limit and he reached his goal.

He broke her heart after he tied her soul:

Then she got hooked to him, she clang to him but he couldn’t bring himself to love her.

And he hated her because he was too immature to understand what he had done to her.

She planted her heart in his soil but he failed to nurture it, he failed to make her love grow.

So she trudged on down her tarted path with a promise to never love again.

High School breakup brought her stress and many more scars to dress.

Then dark spirits engulfed her body through her new

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soulish connection.

Soon after her thoughts got darker; she wanted more of the devil’s concoction;

And she wined and dined with the darkness whenever she could, to feed her insecurities.

She became a vampire: she hunted and fed off the sexual energy of a myriad souls.

Her aura spewed piercing lust, but her happiness could never last.

Mummy still worked two jobs and was falling sick.

Unpaid bills meant mummy had only a few years to live.

Stress and the darkness within were rising,

And Mummy was breaking down like glucose.

Her school grades were plummeting,

So she quit school to make a living performing at the local bar.

She had dreams of the fast life,

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dreams of that ironic good life.

Poverty was the cloak she wore: the catalyst for her decision to become a whore.

She said: Mummy I have got a new job you’re going to be fine.

But Mummy never became fine, instead, she died.

Jane lost her mummy for power, the reason she gave up sobriety.

She was haunted by the memories but she could do nothing,

She lost for power the one who meant her everything.

Thereafter souls were drawn to Hell’s forcefield through the nefarious power within her.

Hordes from the kingdom of darkness were unleashed by the mere flaunting of her hair.

She had a dimension of his power but she was dying, and she couldn’t help crying.

Pure heroin couldn’t numb the memories.

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So she played her wrist like a fiddle with her crooked blade.

She was trapped in a world filled with evil,

A new world ordered and blinded by the devil.

She took a stroll to the quay to reminisce,

Hatred erupted within her as hell placards were placed up in her face,

Hate-filled goons made her feel like a walking disgrace.

Tears rolled down her cheeks after they spoke,

Wiping away her make-up and revealing her insecurities.

Peace is what she was searching for,

Love is what we are all looking for,

It’s easy to point fingers when we see cocottes flirting,

But a deep look at our own souls shows that we are also hurting.

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We say all hookers want is sex for money,

All witches do is to drink blood like honey.

Stereotypical stories sparked hatred within my soul,

And the paranoia from the flames pervaded my soul leaving me dead empty.

I looked into her eyes on Friday and yearned to help,

But I walked out of a Salem Witch Trial on Sunday and decided to ignore her;

Then I had a dream that night and saw beauty kneeling in a circle next to a beast,

She had chains to her wrists as she knelt before this dark priest,

Lights dimmed out like a romantic dinner,

But everything that happened in there made her feel more like a sinner.

Religious Jane hailed Mary more than five times a week,

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But she remained loyal to an age-old tyrant because she was too scared to speak.

Then her rising guilt made her feel like an obnoxious freak,

So she crossed her heart and prayed to be saved from the power of sin in purgatory:

A noxious lie cooked up in Hell’s laboratory.

She had their white lies in a teaspoon over hell’s flames;

Then dirty lies in her syringe to numb her pain.

Blinded Pharisees turned their proselyte into a lie junkie,

“Heavenly Father, forgive them for they know not what they do!”

She leaned back as she took it all in, and got back down to take more lies out of the devil’s treasury.

Then she shook violently like the old serpent’s tail, as she cleaned his excess lies off her nose with

his dirty hanky.

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She had been a druggie for so long that she had become extremely lanky;

And it was all because the Father of all lies altered the Truth and gave her a stained religion;

So no matter how much she listened to their plausible words of wisdom, she never gained freedom

from the devil’s dungeon.

THE ARTIST

Inspiration doesn’t always come from the plush and beautiful moments of our lives; sometimes inspiration finds us during the darkest and most meaningless moments of our lives. And in those moments, we can either choose to wallow in pity, plodding helplessly for answers without avail, or turn to God for meaning: for answers that we can in turn share with others walking in the same tattered shoes as ours or worse.

“The Love Rehab was written during one of those murky moments: the death of a family friend, the birth pains of starting a business, the zeal to write the finest piece of literature—ever, after pulling the plug on what seemed to be a hopeless product,” Delasi Anyah says.

The Love Rehab is about those ups and downs of life; it’s about a disillusioned young preacher who was too paranoid to love others. It emulates Delasi’s paranoia of losing a person he should have cared for, loved and treated with respect. “It’s the paranoia of losing someone because we failed to walk in love: because we were dogmatic to a host of noxious doctrines that opposed the very standard Jesus left us: to walk in love.”

Beginning his quest to inspire and transform lives through his God-inspired writings back in 2011, Delasi has in his own words, backed out on a lot of his interpersonal altruistic adventures, for a myriad of paranoid reasons. Like he says in The Love Rehab “I was the Harriet Tubman who hadn’t learnt to be fully altruistic.” The Love Rehab is about the birth of a new man and it culminates with the lessons he learnt in hindsight, after losing an enigmatic cocotte called Jane. It comes packed with a slew of surreal rhymes and metaphors and pledges to inspire his readers in exciting ways.

Delasi Kekeli “Dela” Anyah is a poet, author, cartoonist and the founder of Dela Anyah Company Limited. Founded in 2010, Dela Anyah Company is a creative venture and a social enterprise that designs and markets a diverse range of elegant goods and euphoric experiences that are driven to inspire, enrich and nurture the human soul. It’s a brand whose essence lies in its missionary drive to aesthetically liberate and empower the human soul and spirit. It’s for the lover of wisdom and aesthetics: the modern Renaissance man and woman. This shared philosophy flows through ever pillar within the company: music, artwork, multimedia and literature.

“High Fashion for the Mind”

www.delaanyah.com