(To all followers and readers, due to some personal problems,  I am taking a break from blogging for some few weeks. Sorry for any inconvenience this may cause. Thanks for all your love. I leave you with this)

Sold souls saunter like savages
Screening sabres
Sacking strange sailors
Screaming and sailing
Silencing in sarcasms
Stealing sanities
Salubrious safaris strike in sentiments
So sit, see, slam striking souls
To sweep out sticking souls
So swift to salivate
At your sorries
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Can I hate the cold
And its mother rains?
Can I?
Like horrified frogs
Eyes will pop to see the demonic words
Walk majestically out of my mouth
Why will I?
They would ask
When the kind rains nurse the earth
And mate seeds to grow
To feed all
Including the ungrateful me

I do have my reasons
And it is not its convention to drown
Not its goosebumps of need in loneliness
Not even its camping on labour
But its strength of nursing the painful breath
Of she who gave me life
She who pants in suffering
At the touch of cold
She who can barely talk
At the sign of all that goodness
That shapes my growth
Some being I am
Taking but hating
Here but there
Making a commotion
And loving its centre

Can I hate the cold?
Can I hate the rains?
Can I and crave water
Crave cool breezes
In my heated haven?
This life of mixed feelings
This hate love I have
I wish they had a ground of safety
To quench my fears
When cold accompanys rains
For the much needed visitation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


You are my cock for the night
One I will hang on my cross
When desires creep out to lust site
My ropes, you will come across
Tied in hands, legs and sight
I will fire your feathers, not to your loss
But your gain in high right
For then, I will be your boss
You will glow so bright
I will have none of your toss
But your delight in fright
And lure out your desire
With my fire
When passions are in situations dire
And will your groans hire
As ladders to my lair
Where lies the peak of my desire
If we get into trap of odd’s mire
I will implore your crotch’s empire
To throw in petals of chills
To both our thrills
And consider its pleasure our bills
And carefully descend our hills
Onto the land where sanity fills
Then I will get you new feathers
To protect you from harsh weathers
And dispatch you
To be slaughtered when my cross calls for two
Prepare, you arrogant tool
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


In the land of dreamers
Beds and pillows are horses
Sleep; reins
Which trot them to all their desires
Their only set backs are
When nature calls
And when hunger and thirst pinch

The neighbouring land of dreamers
Is fantasies
Whose work tools are immobility
And imagination of wishes
Like magicians
They get to live the lives of princes and princesses
And grow into kings and queens
Until the poverty of reality pinches in need
Dreamers flee here
When bed bugs of boredom
Evade their space

Who but a fool sleeps to dream
Like a corpse
When corpses sleep to return to earth?
Whoever swerved hardwork
To enter into the kingdom of success
And stayed there by riding bed and pillow horses
Let him come out in testimony
And give the formula of failure
And be worshipped as the perfect role model
Until you find that he or she
Wake, work, win
That is the only formula of real dreamers
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


To the devout Christian
When the Islamic cock crows
It is noise unprecedented

To the committed Muslim
Sounds of claps
Loud voices of prayers
Stomping feet in Satanic battles
Are like disco songs
In their tired beds
Unnecessary noise

To the African traditionalist
Muslims are parodies of the alien Mohammed (SAW)
Their laughable apparels
Calling for the laughter of heat
In a land where heat reigns
Their times of prayers
Important times lost at work

To the African Traditionalist
Christians are like toys of alien Christs
Hardening their palms
Under delusions of serving God
Forgetting their ancestors watch
Ancestors who provide water
And protection
All others are queer believers
Of queer beings or things

Although Christians and Muslims
Deem traditionalists Satanic
I worry at the thought of worship
It is a worrisome world
Where no religion tags beings in birth
But beings tag to kill in belief in growth
Can I laugh outloud now
At their “One God” claim?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


It is difficult for a cat
To look at garnished meat
Without a reaction from its throat and tongue
I guess

It will be difficult
For a fowl to live with edible grains
Without pecking
Very difficult I guess
I thought humans differ with minds

Under the warm sun
And in the presence of the cool breezes
I stood like a television
All eyes glued on
My mouth felt all eyes
As it moved
Eyes who directed their mouths to part in ease
Hoping mine gets the invitation
I see theirs as they are
They see mine as cats see meat
And fowls see grains

If a nun differs in apparel
The difference will be her veil
But even in the centre of all those clothes
Ravishing eyes told me I stood naked
Like the day I was born
With teasing growth
They couldn’t let go

My steps
They said
Were provocative
Calling their bluffs
Insulting their potency
My figure
Serving as an aphrodisiac forced
Down their throats
Through the light of their eyes

I can ask a million whys
Looking for a difference between programmed animals
And those created beings
But nothing pops up
My ink can bleed my doubt
Doubts that my mouth fears to utter
Again I ask why?
In the world of sticks
Reasoning lies dead in pleasure
I guess
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Angry rains
Slow drains
Causing flooding
In innocent crowding

Little fire embracing an
Airy empire
Causing burns
In flowery forests

Check your grounds
To choose your battlefields
Check your drains
To pour your rains
To eliminate fires on your conscience
Where you reside forever
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Weevils find ways to get into grains
As clouds find ways to assemble in the sky
When pianos lose their sound
They become scrap for rubbish collectors
Gather your strength
As needy fingers gather nuts
And like a mangetic force
You will attract it all
All that were created just for you
Just be you
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


It is that time
When ability matches agility
And humility fears no fatality
Kicking strength like a football
Marking sanctity where banality lived

A rabbit has won
Won a wrestling match
After defeating a lion
Its weak paws gnawing at its strong neck
Lion furs aiding its strength
Horrified eyes look
Begging for their nonsensical dreams to end
As flies travel in and out
Of mouths whose gates
Have been opened by shock
Dawn has lots of dews to shed

The fearlessness of a lion
Its ego linked to its strength
Its roars which battle thunders
Its hunting skills
Which make it the monarch of the jungle
All crawling at the feet of a rabbit
Woa look!

I don’t want to be in its paws
Feeling the shivers of loss
I don’t want to be in its eyes
Sharing his visions of defeat
I don’t want to be in its ears
Hearing taunts that haunt
Its mind must be a scattered battle ground
As its claws turn weak brooms
That even dirt fears not
I don’t even want to imagine

Complacency is a slow poison
Its weakness having no footsteps
To warn the head that wears its crown
Be warned
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


The reins of reigns is slippery
Like a smooth skinned fish
In slimmy waters
A firm hold is no mandate of ownership
As many interruptions await
Hand in hold might get tired
Or be hit to lose
Or even be cut to fall
Coups abound in crowned seas
And the waves differ by each day
Not to talk of different hands
Growing more skillful by the day
It will be wise to know
To love
To respect
And to prepare to fall
No matter how fast you gallop
Then the ground will harm to heal
And not break in to you bury
A word to the wise…
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Things are knocking things
Making humanity more laughable
If spiders build human houses
And dogs build webs
If ants stay in caves
As lions stay in anthills
I guess creation will turn upside down

Here we are
Drawing many a bar
Some hens pretend to be cocks
Some cocks pretend to be hens
As madness draws its curtains on decency
Crowning atrocities in open kingdoms

Fancy a cock-like hen
Crowing at dawn with its voice
Which lacks harmony with nature
And chasing after cocks
Like real cocks chase after hens
Trying so hard to discard them
Like its displaced feather each day
Just imagine
Can’t cocks be cocks
And hens, hens?

Fancy a cock-like hen
Pretending to have no charm
Concealing its hearts’ harm
Making no qualms
About their conquests
Can’t cocks be cocks
And hens, hens?

Fancy a cock-like-hen
In apparel befitting cocks
Parading about in the midst of cocks
Anouncing its desires for cocks
And its hatred of chickens
When it owns no pump
And tries to hide its barrel
This humanity stinks

What about the hen-like-cocks
Who love to imitate hens to the tee
Their gait reflecting hens in mockery
Forgetting they can never lay eggs
Let alone hatch
Who mocks the creator this way?

Fancy hen-like-cocks
Desiring real cocks and vice versa
We have managed to turn down the sky
As the earth rolls unsuccessfully up
Chaos upon chaos upon chaos!
Commas now start sentences
As full stops chase every alphabet
Still I have no understanding of happenings
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


It stirs the pots of love
On bright fires of happiness
And takes out the juiciest meats
Leaving soups watery with their crumbs

When death hurts
It swoops down like a hawk
And arrests the most promising chickens
Leaving its family too stifled to weep

When death hurts
Tears hide from eyelids
Fancying themselves too precious
To grace the cheeks of sadness

When death hurts
Darkness falls in broad daylight
Leaving playgrounds bare
And sad beds crowded
Making all weigh their breaths

When death hurts
When death really hurts
Silence is chaos
Bitterness is a slow poison
But regrets can never be remedied
Leaving wishes stuck in the dark
When death hurts
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


If I fall like a tree
And my physics lie not me
Like a sky bird, fly free
You fragile soul in a mortal bowl

Look for a world so free
Where the sun, air and clouds agree
And the moon in every darkness will be
Like a gallant soldier on guard duty

You whose ‘she’ longed for a ‘he’
But had no choice to be
Not even by the payment of a high fee
You do wear an irreplaceable wrong clothes of gender

Be in a colourless we
Where all no difference see
To have thoughts of rebellion to make you flee
You are and will always be worthy

Once there
Bath in happiness
Bathe in love
Be bright in living
And never ever falter to fly free
In any gender chosen for or by you
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


I killed you
In my dreams
When your flaws burnt bright
And I lost my way in fears of screams

I killed you in my creams
When your texture dried
And my skin lost all moisture
As I, all the seas of tears cried

I killed you in my dims
When your light went out
And I groped in doped dark
As I got lost in haunting ghostly shout

I killed you in all hims
For you lost your love weapon
And I saw your trust crumble like a castle
Which, a fake mountain stood upon

I killed you
Laid you in state of frets
Like a stinking corpse in a royal state bed
And buried you in regrets

You will always remain the bitter nims
Whose sourness stings
But heals numerous ailments
Your hurt forever rings
But your lesson to me is priceless
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


What is this heat beneath my in?
My mouth actually has caused mayhem
Calling for a fight its body couldn’t win

I lived with my normal gun
Under protection even with rubber bullets
Then my gun sent me to the stream
To fetch its target some cool water
And to cleanse it for pleasurable rituals

I met him
Walking like a malnourished stick
In millitary harmattan
Looking at me like a famished soldier with no gun
So I called his bluff

He laughed and said
“My gun lies until I command
Its fires will be your hell”
But I told him to retreat into his bluffing shell

Then I saw the dead gun wake
Crawled out like a snail at first
Then turned into a fierce cobra
I could feel its heat from my distance
Then I saw how alive his gun was

Running was pointless
Its hell consumed me
Its live bullets scattering my nation beneath
Until I begged for mercy
Its Satan then rose to my pity
And threw me out in bruises
Surely,  I can never return to my king
With rubber bullets
Having tasted the painful pleasure
Which filled my leisure
There actually are guns
And there are Guns
But there certainly are GUNS
Their builds are no reflections of their prowess
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


A nation’s dictation
Is a need in deception
Well, man’s creative sensation
Failure of creation
Is filth covered in adoration
Separation is no emancipation
But a concoction of suffocation
The only salvation
Is truth which hovers like the sky
But eternally covered by dark clouds
Which blind to mislead
How sickening!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


As I shed my clothes of years
As snakes shed their skins
I know I move at the instruction of time
Which holds the knowledge of where I alight
In this vehicle of life

As many voices sing
Ringing bells in celebration
I see what they hide
Behind their curtains of congratulations
That fact that I have taken a step closer
To the end

In flashback
I see my young and fragile self
Which knew no hurdles
Which knew no hatred
Transform into seeker
Of life’s forest machete
As I met its desert roads
Whose thorns pierced like spears of enemies
And its fearful animals
Whose teeth yearned for my blood

Grinding bitterness into forgiveness
Pain into power
Took a while
But time which hits and balms
Proved to be a great teacher
With the help of falls and rises

Now I look back in hurt
Wanting to be in my dead young
That dead young which buries itself
By the passing of every second
And I look forward in fear
Knowing not what hides
God knows good or bad
I do hate surprises

So I stand on this busy but lone road
Where each is for himself a traveller
Looking back like a destooled queen
Looking forward like a sentenced criminal
Still, I sure must smile
Looking into the faces of happy doves and or vultures
Feeling every bite of every food in my bones
With every sip drawing pictures of time
Drinking my blood sip after sip by the second
This is but a happy sad day
My birthday
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Life is no race
So go at your own pace
What do you chase
What you in time face
All you have to embrace
Is with none laced
So move by grace
At your own pace
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


In this yonder wild
Nothing seems mild
I am like a child
In an adult competing field

What at all is life?
Puzzles and struggles’ wife
Always holding a knife
To cause unforgettable strife?

Why is each’s so different for each?
When airs for every nose teach
As suns for every normal eye preach
As rains for every visible pore reach

Bring the puzzles
I will prepare for the struggles
And prepare to face the gaggles
And sail on smooth seas after earning my paddle
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


In this trying times
Where sanity fails to rhyme
You drink bitter lime
And follow painful chymes
You do all
Special fathers

Many are those who take to their heels
Whenever their broken seeds appear
Most always developing wheels
Whenever their egos are bruised
With thoughts of different seeds

You need to be hailed
You treasured ones
For going to fish
And loving your harvest
For though the waves are high
And the sharks of gossips do highly bite
You row the boats
Caring and even giving out your coats
No matter the cold

When heads are bowed
In taunts of noise
Coming straight at you in audiences so grave
You all strange looks do overlook
Asking for all to forgiveness book

And when convulsions visit at night
You wake to hold
Or rush to drive
A mute child is none to please
But you laugh to tease your partner
To never worry as God sits on throne

You mimic to show your love
Always ready to help in all
You shelve all shame
And lead the race
To feed and teach
Your blessed beings
God gives gold to his angels
Angels like you who dedicate to gifts
Nothing and no one can say otherwise
As you continuously pay your working dues
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


As flowery words, good feelings entice
From great fathers who for fatherhood,ย  have paid their price
Never think to call for anything nice
You irresponsibles, who never bought rice
Talking to wild donors to be precise

Bow in shame
You have no rights
You tricked a dame
And skipped all hard nights
The she worked to fame
As you got lost from sights
For to you, it was just game
So quit running to their worlds in brights

Where were you
When they faced their frights?
Only one turned up for knights of two
And when they needed playful kites
Ask yourself their doing and building ‘who’?
Skip glory with all your might
You who skipped all the plights

Don’t aim to the rhythm of thanks dance
You shame-stricken runaway dunce
You did have your test to chance
Now to your shame, like a fool, you must dance
As your others dance like kings
You chose the “free to be” shame ring
So wear its gloves and face it square
For none knows you enough to cling
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


There is no need to sing your own dirge
I have stopped being your judge
A better you has wiped that urge
So I you purge
Go now to rest

There is no reason to hit your chest
Whenever enemies do me jest
There is no reason to cheer my best
Hoping for a body to show your quest
Of erasing what ails in regret

I am no jet yet
But don’t you ever fret
Whatever life needs I sure will get
And I have a good head so fear forget
None will leave me dry

I will definitely cry
But I sure won’t be shy
For eventhough the sun plays in the sky
It cries here and there to get by
I will hop but will one day fly

So fly
And stop your shadow from living a lie
For no matter the many a pie
I get from it, my smile still remains wry
At your thought

If your heart, for me was bought
And you know I did you sought
You sure know I really have thought
Of your ever horrid thought
So do rest now in peace

Let my feeling you seize
Let your conscience ease
So I can be at ease
And you can be in your piece
As the ghost you now are
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


(This is a poem specially dedicated to all great fathers. Happy Fathers’ Day to all those trying so hard to pay tgeir dues and to tend to their children. May God/Allah bless you all)

A fertile farm
Needs a great farmer
Who will carefully choose its seed
Meticulously prepare his land
In weeding
Up to digging for planting

After planting
He needs to tend to both farm and seed
Weeding problemed weeds
Watering battling seeds
To help it mature to rise to greet his eyes

After the plant travels outside land
Although it still stands on the land
It needs to be saved
From pesti-weeds
Which can harm its tender frame
Only the farmer can battle the weeds
Leaving the land to scout help from within

If the young plant needs shield
The farmer, in earnest, this must yield
If it needs more sunlight
The farmer, in dedication, this must give
If it needs more rain
The farmer, even in torture, this must give
Until it grows to fruition

Even in fruition
The farmer must care
Building scarecrows and guarding at dawn
To make sure birds do not evade
So the fruition will safely mature

And if it does
He harvests with care
Eating only what he needs
Saving for future what must feed
And sending into the land, what must grow
Father’s are just like farmers
Mothers, just like lands
Plants are just like children
And they all work for bountiful harvests
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016
Happy Fathers’ Day to all great fathers!!!

Dates: The thumb-sized powerhouses

Worth reblogging. Cool post.

The Hidden Prestige


Donโ€™t you love Ramadan?

The month of fasting, prayer, charity, and dates?

Edible ones, of course. ๐Ÿ˜‰

This blessed month, when the small, sweet fruit seems to be everywhere, letโ€™s take a moment to see how something so small can be so beneficial.

Breaking the fast with dates is a well-known Sunnah of the Prophet ุตู„ู‰ ุงู„ู„ู‡ ุนู„ูŠู‡ ูˆุณู„ู… ย :

ุนูŽู†ู’ ุฃูŽู†ูŽุณู ุจู’ู†ู ู…ูŽุงู„ููƒูุŒ ู‚ูŽุงู„ูŽ โ€ โ€œโ€ ูƒูŽุงู†ูŽ ุงู„ู†ู‘ูŽุจููŠู‘ู ุตู„ู‰ ุงู„ู„ู‡ ุนู„ูŠู‡ ูˆุณู„ู… ูŠููู’ุทูุฑู ู‚ูŽุจู’ู„ูŽ ุฃูŽู†ู’ ูŠูุตูŽู„ู‘ููŠูŽ ุนูŽู„ูŽู‰ ุฑูุทูŽุจูŽุงุชู ููŽุฅูู†ู’ ู„ูŽู…ู’ ุชูŽูƒูู†ู’ ุฑูุทูŽุจูŽุงุชูŒ ููŽุชูู…ูŽูŠู’ุฑูŽุงุชู ููŽุฅูู†ู’ ู„ูŽู…ู’ ุชูŽูƒูู†ู’ ุชูู…ูŽูŠู’ุฑูŽุงุชูŒ ุญูŽุณูŽุง ุญูŽุณูŽูˆูŽุงุชู ู…ูู†ู’ ู…ูŽุงุกู โ€โ€โ€ โ€.

โ€Anas bin Malik narrated:

โ€œThe Messenger of Allah ุตู„ู‰ ุงู„ู„ู‡ ุนู„ูŠู‡ ูˆุณู„ู… would break the fast with fresh dates before performing Salat. If there were no fresh dates then (he would break the fast) with dried dates, and if there were no dried dates then he would take a few sips of water.โ€

(Graded Hasan, Jami`โ€ฆ

View original post 453 more words

Who will Protect Me from You?

You are like a leaf with thorns within
And I am like your fruit
You cover like a close umbrella
Acting like my protective crown
Sieving the sun to give me warmth
Blocking the rain to give me coolness
Shielding the winds and sending me airs
But you painfully pinch within my skin

Who will save me from your thorns?
You scratch to stifle
I hurt but can’t shout
For all creatures deem me lucky
All creatures do me envy
For even on a tree
I have a big caring leaf to shield
Who will protect me from you?
Who can protect me from you?

My sores get deep by the day
But I dare shout not
If the sun plays knight
I will feel the burns and get wrinkled
If the rains play my saviour
I will get infection and get rotten
If the winds play detectives
And get you removed
All flying pests will find me meal
Who will protect me?
Who can protect me?
Who will ever protect me from you?
My devilish saviour!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016



May I ask which cage keeps you?
I know the earth is a cage
And opens only when death enters its need coins
But which internal cage keeps you?

Some are caged by selfishness
With metal bars of needing all
When they can barely carry few
Like ants carrying huge leaves
Forgetting their tiny home houses
So suffer under locks of hatred

Some are caged by rudeness
Under the strong bars of pride
Like horror prisoners mixed with normal ones
Forgetting none is above the other
In wombs and tombs
So are locked by self superior padlocks

Some are caged by body pleasures
With grave bars of fantasies
Like dogs on heat on aphrodisiac
Forgetting life is a blend
So stay locked by fear of loneliness

Some are caged by their horrid past
Under unbreakable bars of pain
Their minds locked in “why mes?”
Like scarecrows in failed farms
Sacking only birds of fertility and success
So stay locked under melancholic padlocks

Some are caged by holiness
Under the strange bars of pleasing God
When their fellow men find them unbearable
Like Satan sending humans
To hell with their every deed
Forgetting life was meant to be lived
The creator Himself loving exploration
So they stay locked
Under the huge padlocks of fear of sin

Some are locked by their dreams
In very strong bars of fear of failure
Like a one leg man climbing a tall ladder
Forgetting no dream achieved
Enters the doors of death
They stay locked under padlocks of stiffness

What is your cage?
Whatever it may be
When balanced in wisdom and common sense
Brings freedom
Break your cage
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016



Dear rains
Weed the clouds
And form a clear path in my sky
I need its lovely blue
To stay strong

Dear lightenings
Shut the loud mouths
Of your thunders
To stop their roarings like hungry tigers
My ears plead for peace

Dear Moon
Appear like a knight
And clear the dark
To make blockings visible

Dear sun
Rise like a god
To make all visible
Drying mud
And strengthening the earth
For a smooth walk

Everything seems to need you
You angelic creatures
You take to give
Taunt and flaunt
This time
Just this time
Please be on my side
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016
Picture credit: Google pics


Crawling snails
Are scarier than jumping goats
They are armed by silence
And aided by care
Let all heads be still in listening
Do snails have noisy footsteps?
Do they have loud voices to call for alertness?
Don’t they have such cool touches?
Ones to make fantasies real?
Like shadows they penetrate
Their shapes and sizes aided and abetted by guard let-downs
Human snails are lions in their target areas
Human goats,  toothless dogs
Very scary!!!
This world!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Chaos boils like hot water
In the highest place of the land
Can it melt its saucepan
To help create another in good shape?
I think not
Given the fact that
Here is here
And choas boils to cool
Never to ever rise in heat
Ah! Kwa kwa kwa kwa, beaky chirps

This fire which fans this heat
Under the coalpot of foul play
With the charcoal of corruption
And the match of disappointment
Being fanned by the fan of opposition
Will it die too soon?
Will it burn to ashes together with its heat?
Or be killed by its heating water?
I am curious
Like a passing wind
I know this is an issue in travel
By a fast plane
A Ford
A taxi
Or a trotro
Whatever the means
Eyes of mine watch
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Clouds form to give life to rain
Rivers flow to give strength to seas
Plants grow to feed, heal or kill
But beings grow into the earth
We know not the colour of ghosts
Like meteorologists and their audience
Some predict
Some believe
Some sit on fences to just watch
We, these sad girls
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Now the situation is dire
Grant my desire
And all the pride for you I will acquire
Even as I walk through this fire
I do know enemies, for me, this pain hire
I know there awaits a mire
And the beatings of struggling wire
For they never tire
All they pump are dreams via
Making dodging extremely impossible, in this jungle empire
Do for me more angels hire
For you will always remain the sire
As long as the sky lives above the earth, you are no liar
This is a solemn prayer, Sire
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Most crowns have fallen
Into the gutters of civilization
Their stools
Lost in the wilderness of democracy
Arresting conventions to be whipped like criminals
In the fallacy of globalization
Their seers turned predictors
Wearing garments of dense education
Mostly with magic of turning what is
Into what isn’t
Why won’t most cultures vanish like ghosts
As the others roast in books?

Whatever kneeling needed to serve
Money represents in the now
Respect has fallen
Killed by the sword of human rights
Whatever remains are skeletons
Yet to be powdered into scattering

Now songs have lost their voices
Cruelty loving its choices
Seas of goodness are losing their rivers
Sending shivers into the spines of the weak
Darkness for rest is losing its solitude
Being brightened by hands of prying
What can’t go wrong?
Openly-closed eyes!
Smelless-smelling noses
Wait until your stomachs close
At the hands of negligence
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Clicks with flicks
On lawn at dawn
Born anger seems torn
Like a cool dress turned rag

The waving-swooning-moon
The sympathetic gazes of the tickly-giggly-stars
The tired-dozing night birds
Who are fighting sleep to catch this climax
Make me wish for wings

Like a cozy teddy bear
I have hugged you a million times
After our dramatically unrealistic dialogues
Loving your warmth
Like a cool cardigan in a freezing ice
Why does reality look stern?
Just like an overly disciplined head teacher
Holding a dismissal note
And facing a stubborn student

I don’t like this center stage
Where cool air hover
Scattered clouds peep
Clear sky looks
At what pathetically shows
When the stage of my mind seems clear on its television
With a romantic make up
Tickling the only audience
My heart

Come through
If the dramas sync
Let words with boxing gloves
Be banished to bow
To grow a handshake
Which volcanos a hug
And a hug
Which tsunamis peace
To wave us to the shore of happiness
Far from the sea of chaos
These sharks of sleepless nights
Have no equals in chasing and haunting
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016



Cry rain, light, thunder
Blossomed roses flirt with all
Dust, filth included
Kisses that misses disses
Hit hard harbouring hatred

Where is harmony
Without ha-money?
When hands seek to be seen in waves
Instead of fighting for farms?

Love a flower
Love its thorns, not only the nectar
Love a shower
Love its wetness, not only the freshness
Love the sun
Love its high heat, not only its warmth
None can love a dog without loving its barking
Or love a fowl without its dawn alarm
Love is costly
Pay the price or skip
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Did I see it green or brown?
Did I see it not at all?
Did I see it still or wavering?
Maybe the eyes of my sight is lost
Now I look
But I see not it
The sight sees all
But what seems lost
Like a paint eaten by its sheet
Its debris remains just pain
Ashes blow in wind
Where did this ash land?
In the mouth of the icy?
In the fires of hell?
Or in the soul of myth?
I call you out
Mr. Afedo!
I shout your name
Mr. Afedo!!
I scream it out
Mr. Afedo!!!
Only the fowls it bred respond
In the solitude of pain
In tongues of beaks
Its root lying struck by stroke
Its seeds fragile with nothing
When the bell of death rings
All who hear heed
I guess
Very sad
This worthlessness of life
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016
Title inspired by Mr. Eric Borti
Dedicated to Mr. Afedo, a former colleague who passed on yesterday,  June 13, 2016.
May his gentle soul rest in perfect peace


Some are born kings with wings
Like mushrooms growing on anthills
They get to battle trees in height
Their only prayer
Not to be grazed down
Ambition, not a usable tool
Maintenance,  a need

Some are born free to spree
Like left kites in right sights
Flying high with the right air
Shaking their rears like proud flags
Their only prayer
Not to meet interceptions
Ambition,  neither needed nor hated
For they have a top to climb
Or a down to fall

Some are born beggers
Like little orphaned vultures
With no feathers on wings
Ambition is a need to feed
Feeding is continuous risk
To rise
Because what chase is everything
From dust to the breather which sustain
Life has a scary window
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Talkings of humans
Chirping of birds
Croakings of frogs
Roarings of the cat family
Bleatings of goats and sheep
Wave songs of seas
Whispers of breezes
Combined with all others
Make the rhythm of life
The earth our major instrument
All bodies, accompaniments
I am playing my part
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Per the airs of our forefathers
Entering through the shores of our land
Asaase Yaa needs ears
Care and spirit to fight
Enabling all tools needed

The airs whisper their messages
There is no teeth which fights not its tongue
But each needs the other for the sake of survival
Swords of words must cut through
Desserts of hearts
To make room for legs of all opinions
Keeping seeds of the plantables for growth
Guns with bullets of sense
Are preferred to bullets which destroy
What they cannot fix
Bombs of enlightenment preferred
To bombs of fire which burn what it can’t wake
And if there will be a tsunami
It should come with uprooting bad weeds
In justice
Not bright and good ones to promote filth

No matter how big our knowledge
The airs go on to say
Ants are role models in management
Dogs model in security
Goats are models of go-getters
Sheep modelling obedience
Eagles model strength
Horses and donkeys modelling hardwork
Vultures are models of patience
Tortoises model of faith and determination
Their hard shell moralling God taking care of His own
Lions are models of strength
Peacocks model beauty
Nightingales are models of soothing hearts
Owls model watchfulness
Cocks; models of prompters
Hens model good parenting
All animals have their learnables
And the ancestors call the greed of our conscience
In good pickings

The world is ours
We who live
And the wes to come
Africa is ours
We who went through the hells of slavery
To reach the land of enlightenment
Ghana is ours
We who follow the red, gold and green
Attached to a black star whose light only we see
These whispers engrave themselves
On all our hearts
Failure to heed
Is calling for war
War between the living and their ancestors
Let all rise to peace!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Won’t I miss you
When I’m gone?
You shelter that sheltered
Knowing all
Seeing all
Feeling all
Without breaking your hall
No word came from the mouths of your walls
You hide the dirty sides
Prepare for my better sun view
Keep the secret tears
Like invisible diary only I can read
You labour
In my nakedness
Shut your eyes when I need darkness
Been my sacred place
My loving place
Mine and mine only
From twelve after two thousand
You complain not of the heat on your crown
Nor the heavy winds threatening your stool
You complain not of the rains and the dust
Nor the bad odour free range does give
Can I thank you enough?
Wemah 6
Oh Tamasco!
All memories sweet and sour
All happiness hard and bitter
All expectations high and low
I have tasted thanks to you
Struggling with me
Standing with me
Even through the thunders of my life
And still labour with my presence
Forever your memories will with me dwell
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016



I need to dine
With the queen of England
And if we wine
I will be in Powerland
To find the soul
Of the sea of English
Which gave enlightening bowl
From the rivers of British
And made some clowns in wish for crowns

I need to dine
With the queen of England
And if we wine
I will be in Blessland
Who else can show
The heart of decorum
And empowerment sow
In a land ruled by scrotums?

I need to dine
With the queen of England
And if we wine
I will be in Graceland
Who else can blow
Candles of inferiority
And act to grow
Her former Adams in Eden?

I need to dine
With the queen of England
And if we dine
I will be in Justland
Whose knife best cuts
Weeds of corruption
Than the head who saw
The plough in motion?

I need to dine
With the queen of England
And if we wine
I will be in Successland
Only a mother knows best
How to right her young
And show her chest
To give a pillow
Like a rooster’s nest
After its steppings
So give me a dine
With the queen of England
And if we dine,
If we dine
I will see all lands
Which grew our land
And made our stand
By lending a hand
A hand of command
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016
Photo Credit: Google pics


Do I need the stool
Of the queen of England?
The seat of Liberia’s power buttocks?
The stance of South Korea’s head?
The heart of Yaa Asantewaa?
To have gazing eyes mellow to look?
Flaunting egos listen to bow?
Strong shoulders stand down from arrogant ladders?
Peppery mouths calmed by salt?
Tight trousers loosening to free?
And cruel hearts softening to accommodate?
Do I?
Do I?

We climb ladders
As spiders do their webs
Carry titles
As kings do their crowns
But refuse to let go holds of slavery
Holds of abuse
Holds of superiority
And cling like reins of mad horses
Neglecting great voices
Making queer choices

Open your eyes
In all
As patriots
As citizens
And as individuals
Or perish in fair-malnourishments
Indifferent buttocks
Deserve piercings by fence wires
And a pushover
The hard ground, their cruel teacher
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


It promised to be fun
The hunt
I dreamt of games
I dreamt of tames
I dreamt of antelopes swift and lame
I dreamt of moons
Leading with light
I dreamt of victory none the same
Then I threw my arrow
It hit the marrow
Looked like a narrow catch
As I waited for my antelope
If less, my rabbit
A lion came with vengeance
It looked at me
With eyes of the wounded
And held my soul captive
Branding my meat abominable
Gifting me to rot as slow as a sick snail
And thus it was
That the hunter turned hunted
Wishing for her own meat to end her misery
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Beautiful lips
Red, like a rose kissed snow
Beautiful nose
Straight like the line of a perfect artist
Cheeks so shaped
In place, like that of a perfect carver
Chin so devine
Inviting, like the whispers of dawn
Neck so long
Straight and bearable, like that of an “akuaba”
Eyes so intense
Like Odomankoma’s seas
Bossom of blossom
Back so bright
Curvings so shapely
Legs so graceful
And what an angelic tune her voice makes
She can make anyone fall
She is the queen you seek
Your weakness so bleak
Your fantasies’ beak
She is everywhere
And anywhere
Sometimes reachable
Sometimes unreachable
She is
The sin you flea in chase
So hold your horses
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

My Vision Duet

From another perspective. Love or life.

Aubrey's Arch

Hypnotic and erotic
Your soul psyche is exotic
Universal dine and goddess
To taste your Magic is my florist
Depth and duty do you flourish
Youโ€™re the beauty that I nourish
Unending power that we current
Could your love reveal my soul
Can you make my heart whole
Is this home you must own
Erotic and heroic
Is the Throne

View original post


Have learnt a thing about OCD today.

William Chasterson

The best way I can describe OCD for someone who doesnโ€™t have it is the following. Imagine your driving to work but instead of going straight to work you inadvertently turn off and park in the library. A similar situation has probably happened to everyone so you laugh it off as nothing and you head to work. The next day it happens again but this time you go inside the library sit down and immerse yourself in books. Remembering you have to go to work you rush out of the library perplexed and head to work but you arrive late. When asked why you are late you feel as if you canโ€™t tell your boss the truth because the truth sounds ridiculous and will most likely require further explanations which you are unable to provide. You lie about why you are late and promise not to let it happen againโ€ฆ

View original post 275 more words