A death and a birth

Sorrowful happiness hang like a cross and a hope

The dead year not being given a death bed

In the jurisdiction of the new born

Its death chained by unfulfilled dreams

And banished into the evil forest archives of failure

Never to return ever


Harsh words are not said behind the dead

But the dead year has no immunity to such notations

As many curse its failures

Few recall its successes

The new born is being embraced by all breaths

As humans curse the years using each other as barriers

To the curses they evoke

Ama prays for the Devil Kofi to die with the year

The Devil Kofi prays for the Witch Ama to vanish with the dead

Failed hands blame their sluggishness on the dead year

But the dead did embrace them all


Same or different requests are made 

To the new born

Who accepts without prompting

Dream masters of their jobs

To see to the realization of their requests

Thinking they have brains to know 

Knowing little that the portion of the dead

Will be its stance

When time travels to birth another

And shed its existence


Incantations of Christians

Incantations of Muslims

Fire sparks of fake gun explosions from atheists

The gods smile in minds of traditionalists

Pouring libations to send the dead off

Pouring libations to receive the new

Whose acceptance is tied to hopes of a good reign

A load heavy like a mountain for the head of an ant

Bars are hosting those who find thanksgiving

And mourning all in bottles of alcoholism

Holding their necks and pouring their blood

Into glasses without noses

Only to discard them for refill, recycling or burial

In the arms of filth


It sure is a happy-bitter celebration

Crown for the head of the older fitted onto the baby’s

An enstoolment after a cruel destoolment

Time paces on its path

Closing its mouth to the same horrors

Which lie ahead of the new born

Not waiting a second to give a minute silence

To the one it vomited onto the shores of death

A painful cycle it is

One it does with no complaint

Such cruel work for a heartless worker

Who allows tongues to give “happy” tag

To the new born who will surely be anything but happy

Taunter it is; Oh cunning time!!!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

14 thoughts on “A DEATH AND A BIRTH

  1. A refreshing poem. The bitter-sweet taste of a new year without resolved bitterness, new people and new hearts is right on target. We can only change ourselves, hopefully without becoming totally embittered. Hope is a feather so quickly blown away.
    In spite of that: Happy New Year, Cecelia!


  2. Very True, and Well written, (as always!), my Dear Amoa, but, I do not agree with: ‘To the new born who will surely be anything but happy.’

    I know that simply wishing or ‘celebrating’ the first of jan does not and cannot make the whole year a happy one.

    But the progress of Years, the chances that they afforded, and the efforts I put in, ‘have’ made my present life ‘much’ better than my past!

    Wish Everybody the Same! Happy Years Ahead!

    Love and Blessings. 🙂


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