HERDSMEN

As you lead
…your flock to feed
And they follow
…through roads vast and narrow
Do you see their flesh as meat?
Do you think of them food?

II
They see only you
…and your moving steps
You’re their light
…their trusted guard
You’re their lord
…their hope restored
Still do you see
…them as your feeds?

III
They will eat
…even your poisoned food
…without a question
…or a drop of doubt
They will fight your fearsome battles
…and will kill
…in your humble name
You’re their emotional sky
…and a king so high
Still do you see
…them as your food?

IV
I so stand
…in questioning pity
But they don’t know
…or seem to care
I so see
…the tragic lead
But they live oblivious
…to the dangerous threats
…of your marked abbatoir

V
Why do I feel
…like your poor cattle
As I helplessly live
…in a chaotic lead?
Why do I tear up
…like a sad sad sky
As I see you relate
…to your subjective crew?
I guess I feel like a cow
…among the cattle of citizens
As we are led by political and religious herdsmen
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 24, 2019

LESSONS UNLEARNED

Once a jackal traveled to the land of lions
…in search of secrets which made them strong
…because its family continuously complained
…about the shame of scavenging
…and the grossness of vomit meals

II
Knowing it is unwanted in the lions’ den
The jackal hid in their nearby bushes
…but time did not travel far
…before it was caught
…and like a strange meal
…brought before the lion king to be caged
The first lesson sinking in the fear stricken mind of the jackal
…vigilance

III
The lions sat together
…with their lionesses
…who were the best hunters
…and were so noted
Each day saw a strict routine
Day as night for rest
Night as day for hunting
They never missed
…they never complained
…they never lied to skip, rain or storms
…they never fought on whose trip
The second lesson fell into the mind of the jackal
…discipline

IV
Whenever there was a sign of a stranger
They all came together to bell the danger
And worked like bulls to protect their territory
Marking none out for death
After a conquer
…they all celebrated and cheered
Another lesson rained in the heart of the jackal
…strong defence

V
A lion got wounded
…and was brought in the den
All brought bits and pieces
…to feed the unfortunate
…tending to it, looking for herbs that worked
…until its fit
Writing bold lessons
…loyalty and intelligence

VI
They caged some of their hunt
…like the proverbial ant
…and trained their cubs
…like their tomorrows existed not
…they planned their territorial hunts
…and worked through their dangers
…before their hunts
The jackal saw many lessons
…future planning
…preparing young as tomorrow’s old
…tacticianism before practicality

VII
In the rain
…their caves never broke in
…in their play
…their practice never slowed
…a lesson of strong foundation
…and resilience

VIII
The jackal was seen as gross
…and was spared to go after vomiting and eating
Its family listened to all it had seen
…and learned
But were never ready to wake to work
…they pointed at each other for the start of change
…always looking out for a ready kill
…they continously fed their young their vomit
…and ate the rest when their young got satisfied
They were quick to push their own
…to be eaten by their gluttony, their corruption and their fears
…just to be safe
And their territory was never safe
…dangerous animals visited for their kills

IX
Till this day
The nation of jackals live on carcasses
…of the strong lions
…always crying for a future strong
…while sleeping on their strengths
…fingers of blame pointing at each other
…eyes of jealousy forcing legs to run into living
…within beasts for crumbs of carcasses
This is the story of unlearned lessons
…breathing in tears of dying
…into nonexistence
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 23, 2019

TACTICAL

Strain to gain
…or main to reign
Don’t-
…chain to cane
Don’t-
…drain to pain
There is a rain called karma
It holds a hellish hammer
It hits and hears no “Mama”
And pities none’s sad murmur
Know the end of a con is vain
…it is not like gold which refines to shine
…it is like food eaten into diarrhea-like defecation
Unpleasantness is its clothing
Shame
…is its make-up
Hatred
…is its cologne
And regret
…is its self lashing whip
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 22, 2019

GOD IN NATURE

The God in a bird
…is its singing
…its planting
…and its flying
The God in a dog
…is its servitude
…its protection
…and to some, its companionship
The God in fowls
…is blessings of bells of waking
…lessons of care of chicks
…and still, their delicious meat
The God in pigs
…is the lesson of love even in the gross
…the taste of heaven in filth
…and happiness in being loathed for dirt baths
God in the sun
…is its light
…its rising and setting
…its heat
God in the moon
…is its ability to conquer darkness
…lead the dark-blinded
…and rule the sky
God in beautiful flowers
…is their colour
…their nectar and fragrance
…their lessons of transiency
God is in every piece of nature

II
God is the smile
…which can light a soul
God is the feed of needs
…of one being by another
God is the hand of help
…for every struggling spirit
God is words of comfort
…for all weary souls
God is the seed of trust
…for those in self doubts
God is the healing hugs
…for every sad body
God is the pathfinder
…for the roaming lost
God lives in our goodness
…and our every effort of right
…even in the lesson of our wrongs

III
God is the cheer in every queer
God is the dear in every hear
God is the satisfaction in every food
…the quench-thirst in every cup of water
She is the life in all air
God is the fruit on every tree
She is the shade in every made
God is the take in every stake
The peace in every leisure
That is the God in nature
Not the tricksters on spree
…dancing to possessions
…on Satanic bonded magic flawing beautiful traditions
…their souls owned by their follies
…as they act like immortals with their breakable bodies
…killing the most high with crimes extreme

IV
By all means
…worship God
…the real God
Not any hiding in His counterfeit clothes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 21, 2019

BEYOND SAY

There is everything beautiful
…about a seed
…blown harshly from its mother tree
…luckily into the loam of stardom
And fruiting in abundance
…with capabilities of traveling back
…to help transform
…and feed the culture of its mother roots
…to the world
Beyonce has blown us beyond say

II
There is everything loveable
…about the seed forgetting all torture
…the history of hatred
…the choice of vengeance
…and existing differences
To help build her broken roots
Beyonce has blown us beyond say

III
She is now a moon
…travelling the sky with many stars
…on a beautiful road
…blessing all heads in turn
She is like a beautiful nightingale
…who has found the choir of her motherland
…leading as a mistress
And blessing the world with their soothing voices
Oh Beyonce has blown us beyond say!

IV
If all her seeds will toe her line
…and bless their stages with Africa’s fine
No continent will dare to touch the shine
…out of the progress of the stages of Ebonies
If all the stars will look back home
…and build a part to repair the loss
…of their foundations’ so broken loose
…by years of cruelty now smoothening out
None can parraral the growth of Ebonies
…on development stages
We need more Akons
…and many Beyonces
To arch us on
…and take us beyond say

V
For we will rise above our sinking
…and will paddle on our divided thinking
To merge into flourishing
Conquering bitterness
…and intimidation
To bring smiles to our rolling ancestors
…whose mourning still shine
…in our struggling whine
For we’re one and the same people
…scattered to own the world
…by successful replants all over
As time travels
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 20, 2019

LEACHES OF OURSELVES

All that far far call
…from our rich filled hall
…is what causes our fall
…as others stand tall
All the come go quality whores
…which are rooted at our shores
…eating deep into our own talents’ core
…is what is giving us incompetent chores

II
Why a Sikaman boss
…is made a horse
…ridden by disrespect
…paying for familiarity
…knocks the light out of my sun

III
Many on the land
…climb ladders and ladders of knowledge
…reach qualification’s dock
…but like cob webs
…are swept off lists
…and replaced with even nkyɛnkyɛmas from yonder spheres
…because nature’s natural colour difference
…make scraps from afar more attractive
…than prized minerals from near
Sad

IV
We need to plug our senses
…into a wisdom socket
To know where we stand
…and how to band
…in order to put a hand on hand
…to rise from our fall into a stand
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 19, 2019

SUGAR DADDY

Sugar is the home of sweets
And calls many feet
…at a sight

II
It is like a magnetic attraction
It get many eye fame
…leg fences
…hand worships
…and tongue adoration
Though too much of it
…can take stomachs to schools of discomfort
Sugar never lacks ant

III
That is why I laugh like a maniac
Seeing you clinging to that sugar
…already in a bought container
…with a legitimate spoon

IV
By all means lick the outskirts
The lid seems perfectly tight
…and will not let you in
…without a crash
So madam
…your happy harm
…which is a sham
…in your scam
…will definitely turn stray bullet to hit you
…at your sugaring road side
And daddy will not be in a hurry
…to turn surgeon in your save
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 18, 2019

SELF CONFIDENCE

There is nothing beautiful on a being
…like clothes of confidence
…in jewelry of humility
…and shoes of ambition

II
Low confidence in a self
…is poison
…which when left for long
…can kill opportunities
…and dreams

III
There is no human flaw
…without a brandable window
Self doubt is like bile around liver
…it has its responsibilities
…of balancing passions in ambitions
…and pointing to successful yous
…for your learning zooms

IV
So wear it
…your clothes of confidence
Enhance it
…with jewelry of humilty
…add some cologne of smiles
And face each day
…with its attraction
Pulling awesomeness to you
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 17, 2019

FOREIGN SOAPS KILLING LOCAL CONTENT

The fascination of Ghanaians in watching the Mexican, South Korean, and Indian soaps has gone from ridiculous to worry. It is laughable to see a country once colonised, in the process of development, and still bemoaning the loss of most of our cultural values sink so low, aided and abetted by the media which has decided to break instead of make up for our cultural loss. The movie industry is a very powerful tool in every country. It is the tool used to showcase a country’s culture, which include values, morals, language, fashion, beliefs,  beauty, to mention but few. Ghanaians however, have chosen other country’s culture over ours, stifling the Ghana Movie Industry. 

In today’s Ghana, hardly will you get a television station showcasing only one of these soaps, some run as many as four at a time and during prime time too.

The Ghana I grew to know was a place where decency was revered. It was an abomination to see couples kissing in public, married or not, let alone wearing inappropriate clothes in the name of fashion.

Now what do we see? Not only do women copy what they see through these telenovelas exhibiting their follies in the name of love, they also inculcate into their minds the low morals carried by these soaps. Now ridiculous happenings like two sisters fighting over a man, a father and son killing each other because of a woman, people loving their roles as antagonists caring less about what society considers ill, rule. I believe the most dehumanizing aspect is that people sit, with very prominent people who serve as role models to discuss these soaps. And oh the killer; some stations even translate into the local Akan language infusing our cities and locally made products into them in their bid for advertisement. What are we doing to our country? 

Why will a Ghanaian help another Ghanaian to see himself or herself in a white frame? The very frame whose major population considers us inferior? And oh sometimes, the hyperbolic language translations and the pronunciation errors  pollute students whose parents can’t control them because of the fact that the soaps are everywhere. 

I know the media is a huge factor and may not help out in stopping this menace seen as a money making venture for broadcasting corporations, but in putting a stop to this, the cost involved in watching these things online will make it decrease and with time, the generation polluted will fade out. 

I believe this is a national manipulation which fester on the needs of the lonely and fantasies of illiterates. I know some do have moral lessons but their way of living is different from our ways and this further deteriorates the erosion of our culture. Why do we still kick against homosexuality when we allow such movies on our national screens? Do we not know that homosexuality rules in Mexican soaps and sometimes South Korean ones? Some attitudes and way of life are picked from movies, a fact.

It takes a radical and brave hearted to put a stop to something that has already become the norm, but I believe if investors and the government come together to encourage movie makers to come up with series that will not be based on insults and horrific follies, and they come out like Shirley Frimpong Manson’s Adam Apples, Ghanaians will fully embrace and lift our flag higher on the international market. Loving everyone’s but ours is the worst form of slavery. A canker only the media can spearhead to move this nation forward.

THE LEAVES

The leaves walked from Tamale
…to Wamale
Shiiii, zzziiiiii, shiiii, zziiiiii
…like haunting ghosts in humming hymns

II
The leaves walked from Tamale
…to Wamale
…happily crying from tiredness and imprisoned hard labour

III
The leaves living like locusts in loss
…a beautiful sight for angels
…who have forgotten their God’s commandments
Billions of tears are carried in sacks of fears
…watering the grounds for hovering hounds
Suns and rains and harms and drains
…in worker droughts and famine
The leaves walked from Tamale to Wamale
…then Wamale to Tamale
…Sule sees the unending journey
…but keeps working
…knowing closed mouth means hopelessness
…till homegoing
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 14, 2019

THE HORRIBLE WIRING

The trick stands out in our electricity
The harm is boldened
…in our preferred pharmacy
The ligi, with its silent lɔgɔ, shines out
…in our religion
The cat in our education
…only purrs to manipulations
The con in our economy acts star
…on our impoverished stage
The fence in our defence
…has insecured securities
…who allow all our fears easy passes
As the polls in our politics
…use their cables
…to wire them all

II
Why do we keep the whips in our voices
…when our needs are sacked from our choices?
Why do we bark without biting
…when our teeth are made for protection?
Why do we easily empty memories
…when victimizers become bold
…with their every victory?
Why do we act indifferent
…when the axes in our taxes
…continue to chop off our trees of comfort?

III
It is time to tire toes
…of our thumb-sents turned foes
It is time to keep wake
…so none our development coffers rake
We are in the middle of the change we need
…and its devils in pampering
Let’s cut them down
…and battle through to change
To be changemakers
…for our coming young
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 15, 2019

HOW MUCH I LOVED YOU

I stabbed my fears
…and murdered my weaknesses
I suffocated my ambitions
…and poisoned my dreams
…clutching care like fresh eggs
…all to hold your life
That is how much I loved you

II
I climbed arrogance
…with the sword of insistence
I swam in pity
…with hands of determination
I flew in abnormalities
…on rumours of witchcraft
I trained like a soldier
…and buried all tiredness
Just to keep your life
That is how much I loved you!

III
When I thought of the culture
…which called many a vulture
…for your living structure
…because of your ill stature
I smoked weed of defiance
…killing all wicked thoughts around you
…with guns of law
…and emotions of common sense
That is how much I loved you

IV
I never thought
…for a brief day
That you’d be lost
…and I’d stay
I never envisioned
…for a brief second
That you’d be gone
…and I’d be here
I am now like a can
…with fountains of tears
…in bright bright clothes
I’m now like a lost lioness
…in a warrior zone
…without claws
…without teeth

V
Time is burying your memories in dusts of forgetfulness
…but a little air of rememberance
…dusts the pain and hurts clean
…with your giggles echoing sorrows
…in caves of loss
You’ll forever remain my cross of loss!
You’ll forever remain my emotions’ boss!
You’ll forever be that boy at the peak of my love
…one I spared no sweat to dig flutters
…at his sight!
For you made me
…and broke me
…and killed me
…and planted me
Only for me to germinate into newness
…your absence living in my roots
…never to part
…never ever to be forgotten
Aduse-Poku Ahwinie!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 14, 2019
In memory of my Kwadjo Opoku (Sept. 5, 2011 – Dec. 10, 2018)

HIGH HUSTLE

Harriet has heaped hits
…from her husband
…into houses of hurts
Her hostile home
…humming hopelessness
…in her haunted hawking heart

II
How hollow is her hugless heart?
How harmed is her hustling head?
Holler Harriet to hail her hobbles
…to let us heckle her horrible husband
…who has hijacked her happiness and is
…howling hysterically like a hurricanic horse

III
Hurts are no heritage
There is hired help
…in here’s honour harvest
…today
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 13, 2019

IF YOU MISS A NEEDED HIT…

She says “shush”
…when her side swerves
…the best’s serve
And claims a marked miss
…after her heart sinks in defeat

II
He hisses a diss
…if his target bounces to another
…in an obvious miss
Eyes see the shudder
…but only an insensitive chameleon
…hits hard a hurt in loss

III
It is a murderous fountain
…of tears
…from soul to spirit and shielded body
…in a cycle of time’s bridal walk
…when you miss a hit
It is a painful spat of insults
…from a doomed hurt place
…like an unfair cane sore in a salty rain
…when you hit a miss

IV
If you hunt a game
…and end with empty hands
…you surely pamper your ego
…with “stinky animal!”
But you know
…and I know
They know
…the burning po po po pos
…gunning your heart
…in echoes of disappointment
…shaming you in a merry go round
…of loss in a mourning cave
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 12, 2019

MIND FARMS

The mind is a fertile land
…in the head of every being
Plant weeds of hurts
…and reap seeds of hatred
…with its shadow of cruelty
…and spirit of harm
Plant loving flowers with caring fragrance
…and harvest nectar of faith
…scent of love
…beauty of tenderness
…colours of trust
…thorns of care
…providing fences for your safety

II
The mind is a most fertile land
Plant seeds of hurts
…and like false yams
…harvest a drum full of hatred
…with roots that never really die out
Plant seeds of love
…and harvest a drum full in return
Birds of circulation peck on each
…buying for you hatred
…or love in others

III
Like a skilled farmer
…looking forward to a bountiful harvest
…which will feed nations
Have the tool of care
…in selecting seeds for planting
…in the farm of all minds
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 11, 2019

GOD FOR TRIAL

You’re a God
…lost in gods
…now living in huge mansions
…looking down on the poor

II
You’re a God
…lost in waters
…turned clouds
…which only fall on roofs of the wealthy

III
You’re a God
…lost in soil
…gifting your fertility to hostile harems of cheats
…shaming the good

IV
You’re a God
…who has lost his songs
…in tongues of the innocent
…leaving the noise of deceit to roam wild

V
You’re a God
…who has lost his sword for the wicked
…and replaced it with a sword
…aiming at the pious
…your wind slapping goodness at your order

VI
You’re a God with blames
…from atrocious lies to sad sad cries
…ha, desecrating duping to unfair deaths

VII
You’re a God whose conscience needs a trial
Your love needing a revival
For your mirrors lie in lies
Framing your monstrosity as mercy
…making your loyals fall from royals
…into robes of servants
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 10, 2019

IF I WANTED

If I wanted your game
I would have more than that
…in less than the sweat of your hunt
If I wanted your game
…the game you so vilely parade
…trying so hard to cover the charade
…with my taunting,
I would never break so much as a sweat
…in fencing me with many
…better in parade
So hide your hideous finger
…wearing your tight finger cuffs

II
I know of your broken bed
…and your feelings’ death
I see the cracks on your mouth
…from the bad conversations gone south
I know the drought in your pocket
…because of the glutton in your socket
I know the fear in your heart
…because of the pressure from your prize
Interesting how great beads
…silently grace noble waists
…as those made by Chinese children in experimentation
…call even the dead
…to witness their walk taking
So be modest in flashing your finger cuffs

III
Like vultures without houses
…beaten by telling rains
Your problems are tattoed in your meanness
So cry out
…for once cry out and free your soul
…from the dark it hides
…pulling walls to shade the bright
…walls which annoy even angels sent to work solo
…on this twisted earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 9, 2019

WHEN YOUR BILLY TURNS SILLY

Your hop
…from down to top
Scratching itches in ditches
…pounding needs of hungry beads
…forcing paths in innocent deserts
Leaving no skirt towns
…trouser cities
…knicker corners
…and even jumpsuit capitals
…unexplored
Is a piling crime which will definitely meet
…its regret cop
…in a troubled future

II
You pick the best gems and flush
…them down ghostly gutters
You get angels and pump them with demonic hurts
…always soiling the pious into a coiling
I hope you know time’s footsteps are without
…remote control?

III
You are like a room full of grains that
…wandering peacocks come to peck
……and leave like wind carried leaves
…even those like Mahama’s Guinea fowls
……who swallowed millions
……and embarked on a one way flight to Burkina
…….have pieces of you
To your thankful thrills

IV
There will come a time
…your horn trap will only stop chaff
You’ll then wish time had a turning-back steering
But that lateness in your future
…is a bond you’re signing now
…with your wasteful chase
…and irresponsible craze
And that future will be when your Billy will turns silly
…even in your own remembering
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 8, 2019

GET THIS STRAIGHT

Goat
…get green grass to graze
…to get grace in your growth
Be no bird bedder
…begging births to bird your goat

II
You’re a goat
…whose wishes and gloat
…won’t grow you wings
You might see no wisdom
…walking in this caution
But be sure not to act like the cat
…which got caught in a bird moment
…and jumped from a tall mountain
…as its company-bird flew
…forgetting it had no wings
…and water was an enemy to its ears
It still hurts remembering how the waiting water swallowed it up
What about the sheep which also jumped in same situation
…and got shredded by fingers of the earth?

III
If there are sane ships in your ears
…let them paddle on to the thinking town of your head
…to deliberate on self care
…and work on the importance of this advice
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 7, 2019

THE CHAMBER DANGER (To our abled politicians)

None gives gold to a poor handler of silver
…just as none gifts a house
…to a poor handler of a hut so treasured
Are we over-blooded
…to have our little red rivers
…sucked from our pride and hope?
Definitely not!
This chamber will pose a danger
…which will call for a rememberance
…only worth anger!

II
We know your ears close
…when your mandate mate
…in a date
…promising high rate
…of your working state

II(b)
But acknowledge the many living in gutters
… Note the many living in ‘lavender’ that dignity shatters
… Know the many whose nights are spent
…in air spaces reserved for mosquitoes
… Don’t close your eyes to the many struggling
…under hot suns and murderous rains
Forget not those unfortunate thumbs
…lighted the fire of the power
…which makes you tower
…ferociously threatening in aim of our cowering

III
The voice of the people must push your choices
…and not a reverse
Servants serve their masters
…even if a nation makes them stars
…in revered skies

III(b)
The voices for elephants
…stand by voices for umbrellas
…with voices of coconuts
…with its significantly struggling others
In a NO you know should glow
So what is this deviance in your swear-in allegiance?

IV
Clear your mess
…or face a curse
We’re not twine you can roll
…around your fingers anytime your comforts
…itch for scratches
Don’t act kokuram
…germinating on noses
…thinking we’re too shy or too timid
…to battle with asaawa
Ears were made together with eyes
…and a working mind
…for the wise to use in productivity
…where caution and dicey issues wake
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 6, 2019

WHEN YOUR TATTERS CHATTER

You’re now new
…selected from few
…enjoying your mew
…as you, others chew
Oh, Today’s-Hot-Cake, change your view
For every dawn comes with its dew

II
If you think I lie
…ask the seamstresses
…about the beautiful clothes they made
…for their classy clients
…a decade past
You’ll know, the best turned rags
…because love took their shine
…their colour
…their beauty
…through their duty

III
Even goats now step on them
…in careless bleats
…as the dumpster awaits their rot
The new and loved today
…also doomed in the tatter cycle
So go on and blah blah
…your needed for another’s hated
…your comfort for another’s troubles
Karma’s hammer is a perfectionist
…so flawless
…in its carpentry time
…it will perfectly nail you on the cross of loss
When your tatters finally chatter
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 6, 2019

IN THE PROSECUTION BOX

I have reached this spot
…where my conscience fills a scrutiny pot
…as my head makes it hot
…in the prosecution box

II
It is all because of you
You who are like air I breathe in
…but can’t hold down
You who are like smoke that tears me up
…but can’t be embraced into reality
You who makes lots of emotional noise
…like a swift mosquito
…that always escapes a caught
It is all because of you
…yes you!

III
Why haven’t you shown up?
…Even as the clock ticks
…in announcing my womb’s closure
…and the end of coupling leisure
Why haven’t you shown up?
…Even as my needs roast into frustration
…and wrinkles haunt for an affliction
Why haven’t you shown up, you?
…Yes, you!

III
Where are you?
Are you hidden beneath my pride’s ride?
…Buried beneath the beasts of my expectations?
…Hidden in the parcel of my paranoia?
…Locked in the coffin of my peer pressure?
…Tied in the bus of my unlooking?
Have you been blocked
…behind the fence of my self defence?
…Locked away in the prison of my fears?
…Or gathering dust in the store room of my immaturity?

IV
Wherever you are
…try breaking through to this dunce
…who feels the whips of your absense
…but still stirs through the pot of nonsense
…on societal fires
…thinking her sense there dwells
Jump down, or hop up
…break out or break in
And arrest her heart
Until your reality dawns
…for she is a lost puppy
…searching for her happy
…in the smelly nappy
…of many foul judgements
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 5, 2019

GOLD BETWEEN MY THIGHS

There is gold between my thighs
…gold I will hold until I’m told of its shine
…by a giggling sun
There is gold between my thighs
…gold I won’t have sold to the cold to mould
…into having me poled in penury
There is gold between my thighs
…gold…

II
I will refine this gold with learning
…lighting the fire of knowledge to turn its colour bold
I will shape this gold with tools of patience
…and hard work
Until I learn to use it
…for the product of my fancy
It could be a chain
…to proudly adorn societal neck
…till all teeth get decked out in pride
It could be a watch
…to confidently tell the world how time walks
It could be a crown
…to be bowed to
…in honour and love
It could be handcuffs
…to arrest all follies in my bright corner
…pathing safety for incoming generations
It could be an armour
…to protect my nation
…from all that may mar its sovereignty
It could be a sword
…to kill off illiteracy
…raising the flag of wisdom in valour
It could be a pen
…to be an accomplished soldier in great books
It could just be a ring
…to begin a smile to birth greatness and happiness
There is gold between my thighs
…gold…

III
I am in no hurry to burn it black
… I am in no haste to waste its shine
I will swerve the bug of curiosity
…until I get to the city of maturity
Working on its shine nights after days through to dawns
Until it is ready
…to dine with the sun
Yes, until it is ready to dine with the sun
…this gold…
…this gold between my thighs
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July, 4, 2019
Inspired by Dr. Mrs. Georgina Oduro’s study titled “Gold Between My Thighs”. Dedicated to all girls around the world. There is a beautiful world out there, just work hard to blend the beauty of womanhood with respect leading to happiness.

BUS PREACHER

I don’t know the trick
…in your bus stage acting
Well, that is what this looks to me

II
I don’t know the import
…of your killer-eardrums-shouting
It is oh so a turn off
…selling headaches to many with hurdleaches

III
I don’t know the style of your hygiene
…your arm’s pit has a unique stench
…which is nose wrenching
Do we need to talk about the mouth
…whose spittle shower many
…who the fear of your God cower
…into shut ups?
Maybe not

IV
Please buy some sense from your knowledge book
Acting suntidua through a disgust
…on “anti-Christs” like me
…surely takes us
…to no roundabout of repentence
We don’t need a voice whip
…in this enclosed space
…where even a whisper echoes in multiplicity
Preaching should be like a soothing balm
…or a tutoring pointer
Not a wɔ-wo-kɔn-akyi-kɔ- tipae-mu

V
And oh, the call for offertory
…do it tactfully
…with less manipulation
We know it will all go to nourish you
…for selling us seen and unseen sicknesses
And “blessing” our noses with your fine perfume
You aim to preach and not to leach Mr. Preacher
…that is what you need to learn
…from your Biblical teacher
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©July 3, 2019

HEARTS FOR YOU

Get into hearts
…if you need to be in most chats
…as all hats
…fall for your congratulatory back pats

II
Do not hire a bulldozing force
…to break into hearts
…they’ll die before one of your big toes feels their lands
Do not use wool of pretence to cover your wolfness
…because of fame cravings
…to get into fences of hearts
No wolf survives a sheep filled fence
…for long
…embarrassment and or death, get them each time
Do not use a hammer of pity
…to break into hearts
…their locks once broken
…never get fixed by the breaker
…they will push you down
…at the slightest wind
Do not use a feeble lather of backbiting and lies
…to climb into people’s hearts
…creaks of truth will always oust you out

III
There are hearts for all
…hearts for wolves
…hearts for cats
…hearts for dogs
…hearts for frogs
…hearts for fishes
…hearts for lions
…hearts for ants
…hearts for snakes
…hearts for worms
…hearts for lizards
…hearts for goats
…hearts for sheep
…hearts for pigs
…hearts for eagles
…hearts for fowls
…hearts for vultures
…hearts for even cows and elephants
All you need to be is you
…at your best
…to open the hearts meant for you
…and move into them without breaking a sweat

IV
The best kind of heart ownership
…is that one where you get to wear yourself
…no matter your jurisdiction
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 2, 2019

BE RADICAL

Let
…let white supremacists sleep white
…wake black
…with their white winnership in mind
And let their mirrors tell them
…tell them about the change

II
Let
…let black stooges sleep with their black begging-pillows
And wake white
…with their marked hunt in mind
…only to be told by their mirrors
…of the change
…at the brink of stepping out

III
Let
…let these two meet
Each seeing what they treasure on another
…and what they fear in their announcing minds

IV
And let them view them
…let them feel their own heartbeats
…let them beg themselves to settle
Let them cry out loud to sorries
Let them tear up for each other on each other
So this label coloring will end
…end for real living to begin
…in co-habitation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 1, 2019

GOOD MEN

Did I come to the market late?
I must have
…considering the rotten goods
…waiting for selection
…or buy
Hurtful

II
What will rotten vegetables and foodstuffs fetch?
…Stale taste?
…Stomach ache?
…Running stomach?
…Food poisoning?
Yet see them scattered in near filth
…on my disappointing market

III
What will a polluted goat fetch
…in a long term petting?
Illnesses?
…Worry?
…Mistrust?
…Heartaches?
…A possible death?
Yet see it parading in annoying pumɛɛs
…caring not about the disgust on my face

IV
What will a rabid dog fetch?
…An unhealable bite?
…A tetanus injection?
…A possible loneliness?
…A living fear?
Yet see it barking without backing off
…seeing the fear boldly written with my countenance

V
What will a sneaky snake fetch me?
…A lonesomeness?
…A fearful and poisonous bite?
…An annoying hissing?
…A hide and seek in time wasting?
Yet it hisses through the horror
…written in my eyes

VI
Like normal goods a market brackets
…they seem to be all that are left
…for a pick
Some getting in the way
…and staining clothes
…ruining footwear with their stinking droppings
Where did all of them go?
…The hybrid ones
…with freshness
…unflawed colourfulness
…healthness
…normal fragrances
…promising delicacies
…with many a touch of surprises?
It sure is hard
…to shop in a near evening
Truly, almost all good goods never wait till sundown!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 30, 2019

BRUSH PUSH

I saw you bare your fangs
…and try to hang
…when your friend’s success bang rang
Why?
Hush your rush and brush your push

II
Your current location
…is someone’s hopeful destination
Your hopeful destination
…is someone’s takeoff
These are facts fate feeds
…beyond understanding
So hush your rush and brush your push

III
Many dangers walk the land
Many dangers swim the sea
Many dangers fly the sky
There is nothing like heaven in a climb
So hush your rush and brush your push

IV
Needless competition is a bane in life
Your date can rate your state
…only if fate allows
Like ahenfo kyinyɛ
…no matter how vast they cover
…some surely will be behind others
…in sizes
So hush your rush and brush your push
Showering with contentment
…and soap of discipline
…at every taken step
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 29, 2019

CROWNS AND CLOWNS

Now that there are adulterations of clowns
…in the prestigious group of crowns
This word needs to get to towns
So, in knowing differences, ups won’t turn downs

II
If they use no power
…to shower
…and get confidences to cower
If they use no prestige as plugs
…to harvest unwilling hugs
If they use no fame
…to tame
…and heartlessly try to shame
If they use no filthy forces
…to act like cruel bosses
Then they are real crowns and not cloned clowns

III
It is laughable
How real regals are affable
As counterfeited ones act wolves
…hoping all else turn sheep
…or shy doves
…to feed their hunger to sleep
It is sickening
…that mere weak stones act prized in sale
…when real diamonds silently sail
…on humility’s hail
It is hard to watch vultures wear crowns
…in the gowns of rotten clowns
When eagles soar in to-die-for personalities
…even among fowls
It is sad
…when the world slaps
…with an anti-climax
…at the beginning of its classy story
Where many eyes seek
…crowns
…and painfully find them hidden
…under many clowns

IV
Discernment is a necessary tool
…in spotting fools
…posing to buy your trust
…to turn you into a bull
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 28, 2019

A REAL GREAT SON OF THE LAND

Many suns rise and many suns fall
Many suns get buried under thick clouds till their sad sad end
Many moons rise and many moons fall
Still many moons never see the earth in bright ray light
Prof. George Oduro is sun-
A sun which shone from his dawn
…and still stands on his sky high feet

II
There is a beautiful thing about sincere souls
…who follow rightly in life’s process paths
…in a determined climb
There is a blessed light which illuminates
…shining calm and inspiration
…on lucky encounterers
There is a praying fan
…which buys great air
…for the genuine worker at heart
There is this smile
…which plants itself on countenances of admiring watchers
…of pious hearts
Prof. George Oduro is a sincere soul
…with a blessed light
…and a praying fan
…planting smiles on faces of admiring watchers!

III
Why won’t good rains fall on a promising plant?
Why won’t even weak ladders act strong at the top
…for a graceful pair of legs?
Why won’t fearful and angry seas act calm
…for a blameless boat?
Who dares use his mere monstrous hands
…to cover the shine of the righteous?
Prof. George Oduro is a promising plant
…with graceful legs
…on a blameless boat
…with a righteous spirit!

IV
No wonder his family farm grows strong
…as his seeds soar in brainy path seeking!
No wonder his affable being glows right
…even on a gloomy day in my struggling say
No wonder his loving half is a lotus
…disinfecting all ails
…in a beauteous nearness
Prof. George Oduro is a firm rock!

V
You will grow in strength
…to the right length!
You will live to laugh
…climbing a happy book graph!
You will leave a legacy
…like a perfectly rounded immortal galaxy!
Because life has eyes watching your flawlessness-
…as you host nothing begging for a hide
Continue to be
…who you’ve always been-
As fulfillment rains in your noble heart
It is humbling breathing you in
…in this unsettling sphere
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 26, 2019 in celebration of a living legend in education: Prof. George Kwaku Toku Oduro

A CITIZEN OF IMPOSSIBILITY

See
… I was branded a seed destroyed
Because I clung onto the fearful bus
…of impossibilities
Look at me through the eyes of the wise
…who played my crazy card
…as I live within the biggest nation of impossibilities

II
I was constantly threatened by failure
…sometimes losing to its punches
…sometimes winning through its flares
…sometimes dodging through cracks of determination
Until I reached the shores of dawn
…of Impossibilities

III
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…my light shining through the beauty of its shine
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…my visa, a praying need to many
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…shutting mouths who exchanged their teeth
…with ridicule
…to throw me off the will of moving on
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…my building, a shining star
…guiding many a studious
…to get tickets in flight
…in my join

IV
So take a pain to buy a gain
Carry a shame to be in the high game
…of great names
As an axe rests when the chimney fulls
…be a bull raving through fools
…to hammer enlightenment
…on heads of wet blankets
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 26, 2019

ONE WORLD

There are
…Souths
…Easts
…Wests
In all Norths

II
There are
…Norths
…Easts
..Wests
In all Souths

III
There are
…Norths
…Souths
…Wests
In all Easts

IV
There are
…Norths
…Souths
…Easts
In all Wests

V
Even a room owned by one
…has its North, South, East and West
So why the pointers of division
…marring our visions?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 25, 2019

PITY THEM

It was a sigh that ended in a cry
…seeing you recall the bye
…of your youth’s fly
…in a plane so high
…into memories’ tie

II
Now you face the court of eyes
All pupils dilate in your fear
Because the clothes of beauty
…have fled
…leaving the monstrous wrinkles
…which hid in wait of time
They forget they wear same clothes
That time tick tocks to take off

III
I don’t know what turned you into the ‘witch’
…they seek on their wish-stakes:
The hair which has lost its colour?
…The skin which has lost its tightness?
…The breasts which have lost their stand?
The legs which have lost their strength?
The back which has lost its hold?
The hands which have lost their firmness?
Whatever it is
…wipe those tears from your heroic eyes
For you have tasted flowerhood
…bloomed and fruited
…been green through yellowing to browning
A blessing not all tongues will taste
So please let your fear turn to pity
…for them

IV
I hope fate shows their olds
…in the mirror of their future
…as their youths to time are sold
I pray to see them this bold
In their wrinkly cold
As their horns develop in age’s monstrosity
And their youngs put them in courts of witchcraft

V
So blessed one,
…cry not
…fret not
Let sadness climb a bad apata
…your resilience in the right spots
Only criminals act scared
…in a stoning shed
Age should be an advantage
…and not a sewage
…for unthinking brutes!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June, 24, 2019
Dedicated to Sisi Ewura Adwoa and all aged women placed in awkward situations because of unfair accusations.

MOUTH MACHINATIONS

Man your mouth
…to mum your mess
Many mechanics muster mockery
…in marking mouth monsters with many a mar

II
When Akosua Akonfem
Chirped about her escapades
…in her drunkenness
Yaw Akoko crowed it loudly
…the next day
…to wake the whole village
Oh Odomamkomah!
She wore her room as an attire
…refusing to take it off during the day
…in her hide and seek game with embarrassment
Until she connived with the dark
…to flee this village

III
Let’s not go far
Remember Yaw Badu?
That man whose mouth was used
…as the punching bag of Kofi Duro
Because he became the parrot who sang
…about his supposed many affairs
…to their church choir
…who in turn turned up the melody after a church service
…to lavender Kofi with disgrace
Ah, that one koraa,
…was it verified that Kofi was a womanizer?
Ei! Look at me too o!

IV
Let’s take Papa Azambila
That foreigner who stood in a secret hole
…to dirtily rap about his feeding hands
…boasting superiority
…bastardizing those hardworking hands in inferiority
By the time he got home
His bragging had developed legs
…to walk to tell his hands
Isn’t he now languishing in hunger?

V
Many have bought spaces for themselves in prisons
…because wɔn ano ati free
Many have harvested hatred from lovers
… because wɔn ano ati free
Many have killed innocents
…and are living with many a guilty conscience
…because wɔn ano ati free
Many have turned mice
…being hunted down by cats
… because wɔn ano ati free
Many live like fearful ghosts scaring off good hosts
…because wɔn ano ati free
So man your mouth
…just work on the brakes of your mouth
…to have a free heart
…and a clear head
…always
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 23, 2019

BEYOND SHAME

I grew up
…a blew up
…in a shrew strap
Drinking shame brewed before birth
Eating discomforts whose cooking crews
…knew their hurtful ingredients
So shame became a mountain
…I had to beat
…to survive
Why won’t I be beyond shame?

II
I have crossed the bridge
…where I shiver in front of Asante kwadu
I boldly demand for Bono brɔdeɛ
When my needs come to feed
What is the importance of age
…with no stage of advantage
…and a fear stricken cage
…set by society to still heap shame
…upon the shame youth serves in these dark parts?
I cleared that ridiculousness long ago

III
So serve a heartthrob
…or feed a headthrob
There will be no room for a pleasure rob
And you have the ticket to shout outloud
While shame bathes you publicly
…see if it can take one step in my direction,
I have long crossed the bridge of “be careful”
…now standing on the pate of “I don’t kɛ”
So I only yield in to the complaints of my body
…now that no ngɛɛ calls my gbɛɛ
And so you know-
…babying man pestles
…is a hypocritical trait I weeded out
…long before my bloom
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 22, 2019

FIRE BENEATH ASHES

From far and far
…flimsy fleas
…forced fiercely in fences
…flip flaps to fires’ fuss
Forking fins
…filing fears
…facing the future

II
Baking in breakages
…burning in bossing barns
Burns bellowing in bellies of bodies
…bolden in brights
…beneath their-

III
…Ashes
Allowing arms to air
…attracting arrows in alms
Atrociously aiming attacks
…in apt adrenalines

IV
Fear the fallen
Believe the broken
Appease the attacked

V
For they are-
Fire
… Beneath
… Ashes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 21, 2019

AN ODE TO MOCK KINGS IN GROANS

There are birds who visit
…in blessful transit
There are cool airs
…which bless our flopped fairs
…only to pass us on to brutal bottled beers
There are suns
…whose warmth we worship
…but their steps never sync ours
…so we’re always left behind
Think of these
…really deeply

II
Cherish the times recorded in your history
…or perish in wants long rotten in impossibilities
Live the memories
…few have in luck
Or sulk in sores your regrets
…keep digging into self hatred
Bɔɔla birds who get the privilege
…of flying a time with eaglets
…before their full blossoms
…must at least own their stories

III
It is a fact
…that although you are a golden ceiling on another’s sky
…you were dirt in my
…uncompleted mansion
It is a truth
…that lionesses mate lions
…and not dogs
It is clear
…your legs couldn’t keep up in closeness
…with the hare-like fire
…which burned the sands
…to carve the fine you so whine
…to now own
Let sense descend on you
…to look south in my northness
If that is what is eating deep into your hurts

IV
There are treasures we get but see not
…until their flight
…to others’ ownerships
There are priceless gems
…which act stones to be had
…in our uninterestedness
…oh how we always curse us in their shines
…from other quarters!
There are ails which kill us
…through “had I knowns”
But just as dead beings have no turn backs
…we need a knowing
…of the living deads
…in our lives
Those we can never ever return to us
So we can take our past
…off the fires of our yearning present
…to at least cool needs into satisfactory smiles
…instead of boiling in broken bitterness
So let your memories serve as payment
For the can’t-have you so “need” now
Isn’t there a saying
…a vehicle whose seats you’ve tasted
…hurt you not in a leave behind?
Ha!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©June 20, 2019

FROST

It started like serene air
…in my sunlight
You, me attending
…you me loving
…you, me feeding
…you, me caressing
…you, me cuddling
…you, me kissing
…you, me tendering
…you, me calling
And my vice versaring
Then it turned from mild to cold winds
You, me neglecting
…you, me annoying
…you me forgetting
…you, leaving me hanging
…you, me shaming
Even knowing I’m African
You started snowing hate
…giving me shivers of fear
…icing my rivering possibilities
…murdering my hope for us
Then I felt the painful teeth of frost
I asked what it was
…but the cold promised a feeling

II
You should’ve tutored me
…that your warmness
…could turn cold
…cold which could turn monster
…to bite in breaking me apart
You should’ve warned me
…to put on clothes of care
…as necessity in our beautiful beginnings
You know I’m carved from the ribs of Asaase Yaa
…with a body only known to the beautiful suns of happiness
…which give no chance to snow
…let alone carve cold to crack
You should’ve given me a heads up
…knowing where you picked me
…and where you were taking me
I am African
…a being loving her suns
…a being shivering at the mere thought of rain
But what?
You send me to the cold land of heartbreak
…to see me breaking apart
…like a weak dry wood burnt
…and falling in ashes?

III
Cruelty is a cunning con
…deception is a deadly drown
Abandonment
…is a shocking school
And the break up frost surely is a new monster
…which I knew not
…let alone know how to trap
…and kill it
…to free the heart which it hurts
…from its fury
I guess experience
…will teach me
…to battle it with the fire of time
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 19, 2019

BUNSOKROM

Serenity swims like swans
…serenading spirits seeking sanes
…soothing sanes with sores
…sweeping sufferings with sobbing stucks
…from souls

II
I am wondering
…why guy-gun growers
…with their sweetening atadwes
…are the going givings
…on hawking pates
…of every trader

III
Do you have ready restrooms
…in the ayaase of your blooms
…needing erected bodies of pestled visitors?
Or are your ears filled
…with your earth’s potency
…in strengthening man-sticks
…that you’ve mastered the art
…of studying the roles of your shrub roots
…and trees
…to get the waist wakers to hold hands
…in sure works?
You sure unassumingly lie like innocents
…in the veined hair of Asaase Yaa
…by the busy roadside
And I have been so fooled
…years on end
…till this day
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 18, 2019

MAKE NO MISTAKE

Winners without woes
…are like boxers who have never tasted punches
The world was built
…for the punch takers
…students of problems
…truck pushers of hurdles
…curious travellers slapped with many shut outcomes
To find their ways through the puzzle of suffering
…to success
…always armoured with determined spirits
…questioning souls
…and fatigued bodies

II
Make no mistake
The smiles that flash in front of the cameras
…the shines that rush onto their time eras
…their words which swallow questions fired
…their every gait
Form part of their sweatfully cooked beings

III
Open your eyes and look well at the sea
…many rivers
…travelled many miles
…to help it full up
So be no stagnant water
…complaining in struggling gramophones
You can at least scratch to break through routes
…to explore options
To lift yourself up
…and be part of the loved
……the loved you so jealously adore
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 17, 2019

HEARTS AND FATHERS

Fathers are not the feathers so fluffy
…with sperm supermakets
Forcing their wares in buildings
…without paying their rent

II
Fathers are not mouths
…with boastful words
…which wake from useless tongue beds
…to order hands to tap their chests
…to brag and drag fame of a built human
…to their cruel stages

III
Fathers are farmers who plant,
…water,
…clear challenging weeds,
…fertilize,
…fight off pests,
And harvest contentment
…when their farms flourish

IV
So Kakaaku,
…go away with your mmusuo
…of calling yourself paapa
…when many unformed bodies curse you
…from gutters with murdering stench
And many destroyed wombs kill you in their deserts
…of barreness

V
Kwame Aponkye
…please shut up
…so you don’t wake the wrath of women
…whose sweat fill seas of suffering
…in tending to your abandoned seeds

VI
Yao Dzakpasu
…don’t even show your face on this day
…lest, your denial breaks from the anger tree
…to flog you like its bothersome pest

VII
This day is not for your likes
It is for the real workers on the field
And for the great hearts
…who tend to some of your mess
…while you annoyingly dress
…like over bloated peacocks
Why some of you own sacks filled with lives,
…only Otwereduampong will know
In your next lives
…you must be born as weeds
…with no chance of choosing shamelessness
…in your built houses of cruelty
You rotten nuts destroying soups of fatherhood!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 16, 2019

FATHERS

Fathers
…fearless farmers who ferry us onto
…fine fields
…to flow in growth

II
Fathers
…fine feathers who fly us farther
…from our fears
…to grow in strength

III
Fathers
…frames which face forces
…flagging our favorites
…Knights in our dreadful nights!
We hail your wondrousness
…in our celebration of you
…this and every day
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 16, 2019

LAMENTATIONS OF A FATHER

I am a root
…a root whose burdening tree
…regards him not
…talk less of its branches
When my pate aches from their carriage
…but I still search the land
…to fetch water and food
…for their flourishing

II
I am like a follower
…that follower who is seen as shadow
…in my hard work
…and seen as a criminal
…in my abandoned duty
…or is it my sheltered night darkness?
What is this secondment role
…in this life stroll?

III
I am like the scrotum
…always backing the love soldier
…I can walk not fast
…lest I bump into my master
…and infuriate some of my meticulous mistresses by aiming a bite
Whoever made me an equal addition
…in my first creation
…surely bought woes for my toes

IV
I am now the pickaxe
…mostly forgotten
…because of the fetching shovel
I am now the wind so infuriating
…even after chasing off monsters of insects
See how the air dances in her praises
…soothing for more comfort

V
There will come a time
…I will rebel!
There will come a time
… I will caution stems to vacate my pate
There will come a time
…I will act me and not the be
…doesn’t it rhyme with an annoying bee? Loved for its honey, hated for its sting!
I am in my demonstration to be noted
…or in this parental love voted!
I also deserve to be doted-
…upon
Noise upon noise
…on my goodness!
The gander and goose always go for hunting
…why do you keep mute
…upon the gander’s arrival
…and hail the goose‘s arrival
…simply because the latter held the game
…and brought it from its cloth
…to show to the world?

VI
If nyankontɔn falls not on the earth
…where will you get the pumped water
…even from the irrigation machine?
Will the greens you see on the earth’s pate
…still be there?
Learn to unlearn the stern
…you’ve domesticated
For feelings abound not
…only in pinks
…but also in dark dark blues!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 15, 2019

ANOTHER’S BEARED ON FIRE?

You sit there
Calling on what is and not fair
Tagging others queer
Pray problems you never steer

II
A bee in another’s bite
…draws laughter
…wait until it turns to you
You follow the sorrow of another
…and party hard today

III
Know troubles hawk like traders
…in their many faces
No house escapes their visits
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 15, 2019

WO TI PUU PUU A…

Sounds sent to my ears
…tell tales of towers trailing my tail
…and riches reaching my wretch
Funny
…how hearts heed to hovering whispers
…and plant need seeds begging for my watering
Ah!
… Wo ti puu puu a
…wɔ bi di wai
…ebia na ɛyɛ obi koobi ase aprapra!

II
There are suns which shine in shock
…there are rains which fall as tears
…there are airs which blow in chases
The far sells many assumptions
…to the straining seer
Sister, please worry not your soul
…wo ti puu puu a
…wɔ bi di wai
…ebia na ɛyɛ obi koobi ase aprapra!

III
Some smiles hide many sorrows
…some laughter echo many aches
…some abilities fence many worries
Some shine act whines to build sleeplessness
…for the head
So brother,
…beat not your spirit
…wo ti puu puu a
…wɔ bi di wai
…ebia na ɛyɛ obi koobi ase aprapra mpanpan
…ɛna eeyi wo ahwiase ahi
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 14, 2019

GBƐGBLƐVI

Your looks book a hook
…that cook a thought
…in my crannies’ nooks
Let me guess
…aiming your hidden arrow
…at my sheltered target?
Try it
…and you’ll see that
…ɛkpɛ lɛ ɛkpɛ dzi
Your teeth are on a happy demonstration?
Gbɛgblɛvi!

II
Many hunts have registered their can’t
…around this game seductive tent
I can name a fallen elephant
…a broken lion
…a bruised tiger
…a wingless eagle
…a dead dog
…a scattered goat
…and a burnt sheep
And you stand there with your shoulder catapult
…and your bow in arrow
…acting dove?
Goliath’s David still remains a book character
…since the Bible’s written end
You come and try it
…and you’ll see that
…ɛkpɛ lɛ ɛkpɛ dzi
Your teeth are on a happy parade?
Gbɛgblɛvi!

III
Your hour can turn sour
Your male can turn pale in a fail so stale
Your smile can easily complain of bile
You baby can carry not the lady you study
…so hard to have
So turn around the bend of the burn
…and run
Because your stone can’t fetch the bone you gauge
Gbɛgblɛvi!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 13, 2019

FAKE FLOWERS

How can you compare fake flowers
…to the real?
…When the latter are durably made
…to stand robotically time’s rotten test
…devoid of feelings?

II
How can you compare touch up and real?
When Odomankomah himself made the former
Is it because the expiration tag draws its line
…in clarity?

III
Didn’t you see Adwoa Tiger
…before her now?
You know
…you know her buttocks
…which now looks like the Kwahu Mountains
…was like pan traa
You know
…you know her breasts
…which now look like standing pawpaws
…were like beaten flat bread
You know
…you know her tiny waist
…was like many folded mats
…each complaining by flapping
…at her every body shake
…competing with her shoulders
And her thighs
…weren’t they almost like her legs?
…They now look like talking singers
…with her every step
Have all her alterations canceled God’s original sculpting of her
…in your mind?

IV
Are your senses numb from an artificial bug?
Can’t you see she went to a body carpenter
…to saw
…plain
…cut and join her parts to reglow?
And check her red carpeting pictures
…as compared to her home casuals
…don’t you see the work of a body painter on her body’s display?
…Fake eye lashes showing the “wo na” sign
…insulting the Most High with her every blink
Bold colours
…sitting on pouting lips
…some riding on the back of her eyes
…like demonic knights in blinking gallops
And paints
…plastering smooth her uneven skin
Gyata claws
…suffocating her mouse chewed nails
And her nkuri-nkuri hair
…skillfully concealed under some dead Indian woman’s hair
Where did I go wrong to stand a comparison
…with a living caricature?
… I mean a human picture parody
…your pressure of beauty definition manufactured?

IV
Please
…worship in her temple all you want
…but make me no dirt
…with her artificial build
I have known suns and rains and airs
…and tasted days
…which threw me on months
…which in turn threw me onto years
Each pulling my skin to a fall
…a graceful fall
I have no shame to show
…only blessings
And I’ll be damned
…so very damned
If I stand you looking down
…on my setting sun
…as it throws its beautiful glow
…into a bye
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 12, 2019

HEARTBEATS

I feel
…I feel your finger-breaths
…counting your heartbeats in seconds
…holding mine to sync yours
I easily count your every blink

2.
I know
… I know every corner of your body
…just as an explorer and her familiar map
…and I know your body rap
…the sounds of your goosebumps
…the horn of your coming

3.
I love
… I love the feel of your skin
…the crown of your king
…the ring of your whole
…the line of your hidden hesitation
…the shape of your mouth
…the nape of your south
…the wriggle of your tickle
Oh the shine in your smile
…and the melody in your laughter

4.
Your soul Bluetooths me your distress
…and your happiness
Your spirit text-messages me your needs
…and your givings
Your body Whatsups me your yearnings
…and your earnings
Your head emails me your thoughts
…and your lots
Your eyes tweet me your love
…and your care
So what can I do?

5
We seem like a pair of peas in a pod
We seem like a twin tuber on a cassava stick
We are like same keys on a keyholder
We seem like a happy picture in a skilled painting
But the closer we are
…the harder we bleed
…the harder we bleed
…the weaker we wane
…the weaker we wane
…the sicker we become
A love like death in a far beauty
…and a close ugliness
Oh how sad
…sad that this head
…holds the reigns of her heart
And whips it to a stop
…always
…at the peak of surrender
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 11, 2019

MUNAFIKIS

Wait and check!
Is she in yet?
She might be
…with her grains of gossips
…on her public pan
Pleading patronizers perfect or porting
Akeka-muna-
…fiki, fiki, fiki, fiki

II
Wait and survey!
Is he in yet?
He must be
…with his Nsawam Road mouth
…and Tema Motorway tongue
…where no vehicular news escapes passage
…before reaching destinations
…beyond his Accra sphere
…safely or otherwise
Nseku-nsheku!
… Hwirim hwirim hwrim hwirim!

III
Their talents are so amazing!
How they grow their digital eyes to see beyond all
…painting scenes to be beyond perfect,
How they expand their eardrums
…from the normal to that of elephants
…hearing breaths of falling pins,
How they discipline their toes
…to soundlessly carry their bodies
…in Inspector Bediako skills
Beat me all the time!

IV
They sure endure impure and pure
…they sure need cure in law and lure
They sure conjure
…the there, unthere and dead
They sure can build
…other skins to fit
They definitely are rumournisters
…no rumour runway knows not their touches
They sure endure impure and pure

V
Check your grounds
…before opening the doors of your mouth
You know the human Bluetooths
…always on in work
Scan your near to clear the hear fear
The Zenders don’t care about your privates
…much less your publics
Those human tetɛphones
…are spirits in myths
…moving through unsent human veins
They sure are
…ghosts who exist within our midst
And you so know it
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 10, 2019

IN OUR WAR

Lord
It’s been a while
I’ve gone miles with smiles without your dial
Hosting your bitter bile
…in my heart’s file
As thoughts pile on talking tiles
What do you say?

II
God
I have traveled abroad your favour hoarding
Cruising in peace I can afford
…in your danger Ford
Should I expect your anger rod
…or scissors severing your cord?
Is there any?

III
Nyame
I always hear you bought me
…so have got me
…even in my rot
Do you still feel me in your cot?
I forget I am but a dot
…my hot can’t hurt your lot
Are you still struggling with my mind’s knot?
You made it
…didn’t you?

IV
I find you behind my find
…as shadow in a hollow
… I, like a rabbit, burrowed
Your empire as hell’s fire
…chasing in my acquire
…with needs dire
…breaking in at my will
So take many seats back

V
Your empty promises
…culminated into my many crosses
Your many mays
…pushed me to my detested strays
I am what you created
…story story
I am who I think
…knowing you not
I give you this though
…your pen did write deep in my heart
…for you to still gather alphabets
…into a piece
…to birth, even today

VI
Continue to glow in my flow
Continue to control my stroll
Continue to blow your airs on my sores
I am abroad your favour hoarding
And I am so comfy
…so very comfy
…without your umbrella
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 9, 2019