Tables and couple chairs
Host couples behaving like fake old clothes posing as new

Other couples truly bask in the shores of love
Knowing not the sharks and snakes awaiting in the deep waters
Waiting to give them a chase

Faces of the young feeding fat on pockets of orangutans
Hide under gargantuan glasses in the already faint frowning light
As their hosts look around like antelopes who will be hunted down
By lionesses anytime soon
I won’t mention the lice which have gotten
Heads to feed fat on their blood

Then there are the single and parading
Pretending they are cats who need no cuddling
But occupying empty seats to showcase their sad selves

Then there are the herds of friendship
Whose breathes sting the noses of the air
As the air winces in flight to hit others with their mess

Mouths which have had too much to drink
Hold rude microphones to showcase their overly high pitches
Which pierce like arrows into the eardrums of quietude

I saw the paraded goods of selling-selfers
Complaining of the vampire teeth of cold biting their shiny selves
As their mouths hide in bizarre bras
Funny how their bosses shut them up with thoughts material

Then the goings and comings
Tadpoles clutch each other when leaving
Charmed cupidic servants walk backwards to dote on their jewels
Chai! Frogs hop in sessions on their departure
Mostly the male ones in front
As the fat females bounce behind them

Waitresses and waiters wait with the minds of pigs
And faces of dogs who have seen their masters eating
Most taking rudeness to the tables of coupling paupers
Seeing their future tipless pockets

Eyes of light are made to hide in soldiers of darkness
So as to hide faces of thieves
Faces of cheats
Faces of desperation
Faces of anger
Faces of the depressed
To gag human dogs who seek to howl
With rags of no information
Is it perhaps to mar the snapshots of God?
Interesting how sweet tempered eyes watch
As my eyes take in the practical lectures
Of this dark enticing spot
Wait a minute
Which category am I?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

2 replies on “THE DRINKING SPOT”

I wonder where my place is also. However even though I’m single I’m not desperate. I’m not going to throw myself at a man or open my legs whenever I feel lonely. At my age (I’ll be 57 in Feb.) that would be not only immoral but undignified! Over the years I’ve found Solitude to be a good thing. I’m at my Creative Best and Highest being single. Dating takes away time from my Creative Being. Relationships can drag and pull on my desires and passions of writing and photography. Very few men are supportive of a Woman’s Life Goals. Guys always seem to have an agenda for their women partners. So very Happy to be Single and Productive.


True. It is a fact that a creative person and relationship does not mix well. And you are not listed. Actually, it was an observatory poem if I can call it that. Because someone took me out yesterday and I wrote it in the process. You are an awesome, independent being Sister Debbie. You rock.


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