MAYWEATHER

I see the money weather

Even after the taunting shower

That led to the punching rains

Which bloated your opponent’s treasured eye land

I must confess you tower

More like the Everest of fists

In this generation
II

Left fist like a power volcano

Right fist like a bomb slap

Speed in punches like a terror tsunami

You are the power behind all rings

In your mighty realm

Undefeated, you were made for the tops

Clearly so strong

You are like the fiercest of lions

None can compare to you in these times
III

A legend is he who listens to wise clowns

In all glories

Many lorries are packed with rolling eyes

Clearly seeing needless boasting in place of your thoughts of showmanship

Money is no being on a stretcher

The holes of wombs have brought many a men down

Booty shakers are no hungry children

Neither are they destitute who bring honour

To their saving angels

There is a reason chambers come after halls

You are a legend

A legend who must act legendary

Gloating is a goat’s coating
IV

You are worthy

You are wealthy

You are who you are 

But be the honourable you

As that is the clothes that suits legendary bodies

Many a black children run on hunger

Many a homeless being cry tears of desperation

Many ill bodies roll on stretchers in pain

Hoping to an angel gain

Salt praises not itself

Tongues sing its praises

A word to a wise head needs no repetitive ladder

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 29, 2017

​CRY THE NATION

Many sicknesses walk 

On the body of my motherland

Causing it to walk naked on the global market

Every pore battles an unhealing sore

Sore of greed concreting each founding ailment

Why doctors are like its grim reapers

I am still sitting under the sky of reasoning

Trying to catch a raindrop of understanding

Which obviously pours into my mind with misunderstanding


II

Each throat can admit a morsel at a time

Each body is like its shadow in daylight

Waiting to disappear with the night of death

So why do we fume corruption

Knowing its chaotic eruptions?

Why do we seek to destroy a bridge which carries our weight

On the mouth of the dungeons of death?

Why do we seek to strip our own into bonkerhood

On a stage where civility sides ability?

Why do we sew clothes of shame

Which calls for pests to have us tamed

Right after seeing us maimed?


III

Jump from your fences

You wearing shorts of indifference

Throw down your differences

You with busy mouths propaganding nonsensicals,

Deafening ears 

Blinding eyes to the pain on the body of our nation

Wash your wicks of enlightenment

You heads with inks of knowledge

And lead like captains on battle grounds

Won’t you snap out of your power drunkenness

You possessed with fake thoughts of immortality

Emboldened by wealth


IV

We are ants creating foots

Too heavy to carry

We are now Frankenstein monsters

Building our murderers with glee

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 28, 2017

​HAND DEY GO, HAND DEY CUM

Me I no know wetin man go give me

Wey I go be like im sick chick moder

Going to scatter to bring him choo to fill im bɛllɛ

When im hands dey lie in perfecsion

If I no heaa anyting for elder person im mouth koraa

Ino be hand dey go, hand dey cum


II

I go feel like goat wey no like im life

If im beatings no dey charge my legs

To run like  Ussein Bolt from im devil pitch

Ino bi same blood that cause Jesus to shout for helepu

Wey dey for my body?

My mama no bi mumu

Wey she no go feel her stomach tunder

If her eyes see man hand dey pound me like fufu

Chai! If I no know anytin for elder im teaching

No bi hand dey go, hand dey cum


III

My natural mortar no bi wood

Wey go scatter if im dry

Abeg, ino bi alumi

Wey go rusti, if I no shine

Wetin I want koraa, wey go make me your mumu

Com dey take your beating

Come dey take your shakara

Come dey take your shame

And come dey be your game for night?

Chai! Gyare, if I know see anytin koraa

I see say, as this my left hand dey go

The right hand dey cum


IV

I go be like lonely bottle

I go shake like one tree wey dey for wind inside

If all I go get be so so beating

And so so cheating

So so insulting

And so so shaming

God no dey judge person wey dey walka by imself

Bone go turn dust no matter how much

Dog cry for im hardness

All tongues go taste sand im mouth

When die die catches person

And wheder pɔɔɔ pii or apii tɔɔ

Die die go catch all

So why i go cry for bad man?

Yes, as this hand dey go

That hand must cum

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) August 25, 2017

​SORROW OF THE LAND

Once upon a time

Our land was a loamy rhyme

Our airs sang for happy trees to chime

A bite was meant to tease tongues from lime

But all that, now, means no dime


II

When the cloth of colonialism

Met the scissors of independence

And freedom apparels were carefully tailored by hope

Little did we know greed will nurse itself in multiplications to feed

Leaving huge holes in our growing seeds

Holes in which many hovering pests shelter

To hunt the rest of our freedom juices

In a shadow slavery bid


III

How did general development melt into selfish aggrandizement?

How did sweat of paupers rain into barrels of the rich?

How did power fly from the masters to the servants?

How did truth metamorphose into lies

In a vice-versahood which gains applause on entertaining stages?

How did we get here?

We as children of embittered souls

Who fought their rage to get us a page!

How did we get here?


IV

How do we break this cycle 

Of the oracle of greed?

How do we cast out the possessions of corruption in ourselves?

How do we get back the sensitivity of hurt

To feel our punches on our own selves?

How do we?

How do we?


V

If only darkness will work with light on its ruling nights

If only responsibilities will whip consciences in all spheres

If only capable heads will work with their legs

To jump from indifferent fences

If only political promises will gain colour from their white elephantship

If only

If only you will see me as you

And I will see you as me

And we will see our land as our mother

If only

If only…

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©August 23, 2017

​WHEN WATERS RUN WILD

It is like the best servant of mankind
It is like the humble air holding our precious lives

It is like the great explorer and traveler

When it is given its due


II

Time has travelled to a place

Where many things imprison this saving servant

To think river channels lie in even mobile beings

Why will the earth’s water bodies face cages in their daily travels?

Even frogs vomit when their throats get soaked

So why won’t the cornered break free?

Why won’t the suffocating strike for breath?


III

Heaven knows it does no wrong

When its rebellion steals our dears

We have planted hell into a harvest

A harvest which takes from its mother sweat

From irresponsible dumping to unplanned buildings

From horrid policies to greedy land owners

Every building of dirt culminated into our loss

So why whine?


IV

Let’s cry for the scape goat of our flaws

Let’s weep for our attitudes which walk like heels on negative talking tiles

Let’s mourn our loss by draining our drains

Removing chains from the bounded paths of the thirst quencher

For a death that all conscience grips

Deserves all hands on deck for a reversal


V

A wound not well catered for 

Surely can’t hide from flies

Stagnant mud is sure to splash

Without a care as to the legs in its midst!

Kokorokoooooo!

A wake up call by the realization cock

Let the elders from indifferent slumbers wake!

Let the leaders, in corruption parties, shake!

Let citizens, all bad attitudes, rake!

To let nature cohabit with mankind

In a nest of respect

A nest, which will make our waters run our chores not our lives!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) August 19, 2017

HOPE INTACT

​There is an irony in sight 

Where vision is concerned

That part where the blind looks forward to tomorrow

Despite all the sorrow

That part of the mind which no one borrows

No matter how shallow

Is the lid of hope

So why will I mope?


II

Even snakes, dwelling on their venom

Instill fear in beings

Even crabs, without heads

Instill fear in elephants

Even mother hens, dwelling on beaks

Try to with hawks battle in protection of their young

Even a Christmas cock has hope in stock

So I feel no mockery

As suns shine even in their twelve hour life span

So will I shine instead of whine


III

A widow, according to biblical tales

Gave her soul in her little out

Without thinking forward

Why?

Breath is not mine to give nor take

But as long as it engines my being

I will see the ship of help

Sailing towards my dock

With goodies in flock

For in the tower of living

Hope holds firm

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) August 17, 2017

BRAINWASHING

Alien things are swallowing ours

Their gluttony making them relegate their teeth to the background

As their tongues fold to push

Through the mortar of their mouths

Everything with an African tag


II

Civilization first removed our eyeballs

And replaced them with artificial ones

Making seers the abominations they abhorred

Banishing themselves through shrines they worshipped

Playful hands now play with their “poduas”


III

When buttocks started their servings in skimpiness

And breasts were given mouth charms in braziers of harm

Aided by sunshine of sheabutter

As mouths stood out clothed into nakedness by different colours

We saw hairs from under dream seas in artificial chase

And soon, eyelashes begged for glue to have their fill

After fingernails won their clawhood in the court of fashion


IV

Now we have lived to see

Humans behaving like snakes

Peeling their skins in broad daylight like knifes stripping yams white

When they are in no thought of roasting in the sun

As if that is not enough

Now morality has been called to an immoral court

Hailed by blinded owners

Whose loss weeps with stretched fingers

Calling on ancestors who went through so much to build them

We are lions turned cats

We are eagles turned fowls

We are skies turned ground

We have sold our birthright for sluggishness

Sluggishness which leads us to the cages of slavery

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©August 14, 2017

SHOW US YOU

The sounds of nature stamps your existence

Your bodiless presence calls for some insistence

Of evidence of your presence

Despite many testimonies of the taste of your essence


II

You are who you are

Though we know not when you were

But are dying to share

In your kingdom at any fare


III

We wish to with you dine

Even if we wear blindfold of wine

So we can be in line

Other than in this mood of pine


IV

Many hearts, like bombs detonate

With thoughts of your good resonating

Many hearts are plucked like fruits at a child’s reach

Their blood presented as your present


VI

Don’t whisper through the air

Stop rolling through seas

Stop shining through the sky

Stop supporting through the earth

Stop running through our veins

And touching through our hearts

Just show us you

And light our senses through your wisdom

To know you and your desires

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 13, 2017

​THE HUMAN ANIMAL

I do not know

Who carved the show

I do not know 

Who gave that blow

That a girl was an animal

Not a tigress nor a lioness

Not an elephant nor an eagle

Not a dove nor of love

But a sheep which needed its herdsman

Or a hen needed to hatch or be gifted on occasion

How did I fall like a load on my mother’s head?


II

Trained to fit into a shadow

Trained to voicelessly like a donkey follow

Trained to worship the shallow

Becoming a chameleon to complement my sire

Was the scary blessing which cuffed my passions

As long as it had a tail 

It definitely covered its fail

Oh unfortunate me on that hurdled sail!


III

Fitting not into any shadow

I became the blow which non wanted to show

A blow which no ego wanted to note

A blow which all tails needed to kowtow

Defiance transformed me into a witch

A witch whose magic laid in her brighter head

A witch whose sword harmed chasing egos

A witch who only tails saw in their dark selves

And so the hunting started


IV

A girl acting like a boy

A girl looking like a boy

An abomination in this nation

Oh how mama prayed for hands of God’s help

Oh how she forced my knees to taste the grounds of my “gods”

Oh how my peers in shadows laughed at my convention of submission

A sheep turned goat

Being forced to turn sheep

Agya mmaa abrɛ!


V

 All the drama acted like a hammer

Hitting my pate as I acted the nail

Until flashes of the pain of history flashed

Through the blood of my pride

How my mothers grandmother’s great grandmothers stayed like mute clay

Carved to suit

Made to swallow all the hurt their makers cooked

And I tore out

Out of the clothes of suppression


VI

Eyeballs popped and sunk

Mouths trapped many flies

Noses opened their doors to dust

As the fear flew from me to them

I was the freed

One society warned against

One cursed to never succeed

Never knowing other shells were being broken

To let many shadows taste the light

The light of their fate caged in this sphere



VII

You ask me how it feels to be here? 

I feel like a tied kite freed by a godly fairy

I feel like a bɔɔla bird turned into a reasonable eagle

I feel like the weaver of life

One with powers I wish not to brag

A capable partner to my once upon a time herdsman

I feel many things in one

Most importantly

I feel FREEEEEEE!

Caring not about the debris that trails

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) August 11, 2017

​LOVING NOW

I know many of us are everything but perfect
Sometimes assuming positions of trouble prefects

But life’s ink 

Has risen for all who sink

And it makes me think


II

I see all live in gardens of flowers

Bathed in many praising showers

But like dead wood in a king’s court

They feel not

So why grace a thing with goodies

When its essence begged in vain?


III

Some live like goats

Never bending in their revenge coats

How do they metamorphose into dogs

Guarding decaying clay even through fogs?

Why wait till after the rains to place a bucket?


IV

Close trees, they say scratch each other

Silly how human trees, in locomotive abuse

Explore further from their treasures

Suffocatingly searching for left pleasures

Until they go stale

Their perfumes poisonous even to inhale

Then cry rivers into seas

About their plight which they caused in flight


V

Backs box as necks turn with eyes of foxes

Until one falls from this life tree

Yearnings for a chest now at rest

Yearning to look into eyes forever shut

Yearnings of needful words stuck in lateness

Waters of regrets forever built like fountains

In their hearts

Why do we muddle clear waters 

Only to seek the pure?


VI

We are sheep with fake claws

Doves with fake eagle beaks

Why we get those even while our insides churn

Only our body electricians can tell

I would prefer the perfect vibes

While my nerves are at work

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 11, 2017

​KƐTƐASESHƐ NE PRƆYƐ

The mind is a scary part

A part which houses and nurses all it is given

Be it in light of good

Or in doom of bad

No ripe orange on a flat ground

Falls far from its tree

And a rotten palm nut amidst the many

Carves vampire teeth on the others 

Even after battling fires 

To bite tongues in disgust

Hence our bitter taste on the tongue of life


II

Kojo Dzapkpasu’s little coins taken from the purses of parents

When eyes are lost in jurisdiction,

His parents awareness perceived as a little cotton in the wind

Storing laughter in silence

Is a seed being watered by days

Packing like a gift of bomb to detonate

Into the future 

Splashing shame and horrors

Even quenching the flames of happiness and love

It is a seed that shoots a plant

A plant or a little branch that becomes a tree


III

So the government is like a desert without an owner

And I am a farm hand without a supervisor

With no eye in sight

Why will I work like a bull?

Ha! A goat claims to be destroying the paint of many houses

Until its skin pops bald out of its encounters


IV

Ama Achaa has a whole hole flowing with waters of spring

I am a perfect fish thirsty for a swim

Ama needs me as a ladder to climb a hurdle

Without a swim, I won’t ever bend

Ha! Continue cheating the crab

Your rear is opened to the eyes of God no matter how  thick your clothes!


V

I am a trained protector

One with skills of lions and lionesses

With the authority of the state

I am the order of the road

The hands for a catch

The eyes for the safety of my land

Walk into my way without the stench of a token

And I will see you broken

Power takes what it needs

Even many from less authoritative fields get their due

Why shouldn’t I?

Ha! The law is a whipping rope with two ends

Pray for no day your victim will hold the other end!


VI

Amazing how big fishes sail through the net of the law

As small fishes, like mythically huge souls, get stuck in the same

Robbers kill few at once

But leading beings fondling public coffers

Kill millions in every turn

Yieee! Why do you aim for your intestines

And blame it on hunger?


VII

We are our own Satans

Building the worst hell in our living quarters!

We are our own roses 

Tilting our thorns into our skins!

We are our own flies 

Eating deep into our own sores!

We are the poisonous rain seeping through our perfect pores!

From mouths shut like doors of whores

Close to their pastors’ stores

To eyes whose visions are bought in wiping

From ears shut like a bankers safe

To skins which hide bruises to promote rot

We are all the tsunamis destroying our progress!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 8, 2017

KAWOLA? UBEISON!

​Everything atop seems supreme

Many pant to climb to mountain tops

And jubilate as winners in the end

Many eyes look up to the sky in reverence or solicitation

Even though legs mate the earth

So why do you sleep naked on this Ghanaian floor

Regarded as the pauper of the nation?


II

From Yaa Naa to Yagbon Wura

Bolga Naaba to Paga pio

Naayiri to all the sub chiefs

Wake ye wise heads! 

To wake your young out of the sleep of under-development

Inculcating into their will the power of the north

Powers which will act as catalyst to open wide their eyes

To spot opportunities in hurdles gargantuan

For you are the path clearers


III 

Oh warriors built in height and braveness!

Ye crafted with skills of the almighty!

Move from victimization of all kinds:

From witch camps to ingenious camps

From the Gbolu Defense Wall to building walls of togetherness

Remind yourselves of the pain of foreign reign

Through the Salaga Slave Market

And let that beautiful scar lead you to seek victory of more freedom

Freedom to love

Freedom to own

Freedom from war

Freedom from poverty

Freedom from attitudinal negativity

For you are blessed in nature


IV

You are blessed with nature fit for a kingdom

Look at the miraculous Laribanga with it’s mystic stone

Built by mythical hands and spiritual hearts

To serve as a perfect ladder to God!

The Mole National Park which is like the historical Garden of Eden!

Housing creatures big and small

From Elephants to warthogs to ants!

Need I mention the ponds which house the fiery but tame crocodiles

Who lead and protect you?


V

See the beauty of nature from the Wichau Hippo Sanctuary

And feel the landlordship of owning the Wa Airstrip

Oh the Tamale International Airport!

Ah! The Nandom and Navrongo Basilicas made like the cross of Jesus

Should I add the Tongo Hill?

I could go on and on and on


VI

You are beings blessed with crafty hands

See the Bolga Baskets

To beautiful leather sandals to the angelic craft and sounds of xylophones

Which pacify God and all ears

See the product from the blessed fingers of Sirigu Potters!


VII

Follow in the footsteps of former president John Mahama and Dr. Mahamoud Bawumia!

Tow the line of Dr. Isahaku Nashiru!

Inculcate into your hearts the pure heart of Dr. David Abdulai

Get the ambition of Alhassan Gbazanba

Get some wings of success like Alhassan Andani

Sing your way into hearts like Fancy Gadam and Sherifa Gunu

Work with your brain into a breakthrough like Siita the Investor

Giving you the magical box in the form of North Television

And join your wires of success to light up your realm

So you can move from unfortunate exemplary tags

Liberating your women into angels of success like Hikmat Baba Dua

For you are built to excel and have the capacity to do so!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©August 8, 2017

GOD (CRAZY STANZAS)

​In the wake of this take

Make me windbreaks that will all hurdles absorb

Be like the unbreakable bubble surrounding me

Even as rains of drains seek all grains of sanes


II

Ahonu-abobirim!

As a mind which descended from the stairs of a sage

I lay my body before thy feet

Burn the evils in all the rooms of my pores

Boil the hatred in all the pain of my sores

Fry the bitterness in all the dents of my failures

Roast the memories of all the plans of my revenge

Infusing forgiveness where stubbornness dwells

For you are the mighty thumb

Without whom no knot can be untied



III

Ɔkatakyie!

I am like a new born in thy hands

I am like a hatched bird in your nest

Needing your all seeing eyes

Even in this whirlwind of confusion

When the way that leads to you

Is like an unsolvable puzzle


IV

Kasapreko!

Make my skin a tortoise shell

When the arrows of mythical chasers speed for me

Make my chest a magical crest

When unseen bullets fly my way

Wipe my footsteps in this battling sand

So I can lose the snakes which follow my legs’ rakes


V

Omintimirim!

 I have eyes without future light

Brace me for all that awaits

Make for me armours if a battlefield awaits

Make for me a conscience if a rosy field awaits

Most importantly, suck the fury out of my hurry

Planting patience in the soil of my heart


VI

Otwereduampong!

Fallibilities tie my abilities

Need rumbles in the stomach for my feed

Covetousness pulls in the perfection of my seed

As time tick tocks in reminding my fade

And death of all promises other births

In the midst of it all

I wait on my call to you

To mould me through a school perfect for rest

After this earthly explorations

Which cover the memory of transiency

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 6, 2017

(All unknown words beginning succeeding stanzas are appellations of God in the Ghanaian Akan language)

HOW GHANA GAINED INDEPENDENCE BY NANA APAU

UGCC born August 4, 1947 – died February 8, 1951 –  the day that music died.
The so-called Danquah-Busia-Dombo (NLM/UP/PP/NPP) – DBD Tradition and its spokespeople like Paul Adom Otchere fail to take into account the mass factor in the nationalist movement in the history of Modern Ghana. The adherents of this DBD Tradition tend to present the rise of nationalism in Modern Ghana as the product of the machinations of the educated urban elite (ARPS, WANC, UGCC). 
A careful examination of the history of Modern Ghana from the colonial days reveals the single most important factor in the history of the growth and success of Ghanaian nationalism was the mass factor. It was only when the mass of the people moved that the colonial government became seriously concerned and willing to make concessions.
UGCC was formed on August 4, 1947. UGCC leadership invited Nkrumah to return from Britain to organize the UGCC as its secretary. The UGCC leadership were honorable businessmen and lawyers. They needed the youthful Nkrumah (monkey) to work for the UGCC leaders (the baboons) to chop.
Danquah was the legal adviser for the Ex-Servicemen Union. Both Nkrumah and Danquah addressed a rally of the Ex-Servicemen on February 20, 1948. When the Ex-Servicemen’s Union called a march to Christiansborg Castle, on February 28, 1948, both Danquah and Nkrumah were addressing a political meeting outside of Accra at Saltpond. 
About 2,000 marchers turned up, but police would not let them proceed. In the confusion, stones were thrown and the police opened fire, killing one ex-serviceman outright and wounding others (two later died). The distraught marchers ran to another section of Accra where people had gathered to conclude a month-long boycott of foreign merchants organized by Nii Kwabena Bonne III, a prominent merchant and UGCC leader. With emotions running high, the crowd turned to violence, looting and burning shops. Police opened fire. A crowd battered down the gate to Ussher Fort Prison in order to let prisoners escape. 
As the news spread, rioting broke out in Kumasi where it continued for two weeks. According to British figures, 29 people died and 237 were injured within a month. Nkrumah and Danquah seized the moment, issuing telegrams that argued the riots showed Britain could no longer effectively rule the country and proposed that the UGCC form an interim government to restore order. Several days later, trying to calm the crowds and channel their outrage into more productive political goals, the UGCC leaders addressed a 9,000-strong rally where Nkrumah urged that “people should fight with unity, not guns for independence.” Partly through the guidance of Nkrumah and other leaders, and partly through deeply held values, the future people’s movement for independence for the most part was able to avoid violence. 
However, on March 11, 1948, the governor ordered the arrest of six UGCC leaders, including Danquah, Nkrumah, and Nii Kwabena Bonne III. This quickly backfired, raising the popularity of the “Big Six” to national heights.

After being imprisoned with other leaders of the UGCC for supposedly inciting unrest among veterans, workers and farmers in the colony after February 28, 1948 massacre of peaceful petitioners, Nkrumah gained widespread popularity among the people, who responded enthusiastically to his militant and fiery approach to the burgeoning anti-imperialist movement. 
After forming the Committee on Youth Organization, which became the best organized segment of the UGCC, Nkrumah was later isolated from the top leadership of the Convention, who objected to his demands for immediate political independence for the Gold Coast. They were prepared to launch a mass struggle for the abolition of British colonial rule over the Gold Coast.
On June 12, 1949, Nkrumah and the CYO formed the Convention People’s Party (CPP) in Accra, Ghana, at a mass gathering of tens of thousands of people. Nkrumah mobilized the mass factor through the Committee on Youth Organization (CYO) to be the youth wing of the UGCC, but the UGCC leadership did not want to have anything to do with the youth (otherwise known as nkwankwaa, mberantee, asafo, verandah boys). 
The CPP called for a Positive Action Campaign in January 1950, leading to massive strikes and rebellion throughout the colony. The strikes quickly led to violence, and Nkrumah and other CPP leaders were arrested on 22 January, 1950, and the Evening News was banned. Nkrumah was sentenced to a total of three years in prison for sedition, and he was incarcerated with common criminals in Accra’s Fort James.
In the February 1951 legislative election, the first general election to be held under universal franchise in colonial Africa, the CPP was elected in a landslide. The CPP secured 34 of the 38 seats contested on a party basis (with Nkrumah gaining 22,780 of the 23,122 votes in Accra Central constituency). 
The UGCC won three seats (so much for the so-called “founding fathers”), and one was taken by an independent. That was the death knell of the UGCC. UGCC metamorphosed into the Ghana Congress Party for the 1954 national elections and fared no better. That was the day the UGCC music died – February 8, 1951. The UGCC died from REJECTION BY THE PEOPLE.

​YOUR OWN BI YOUR OWN

Birds know they own their nests

And love the inn eventhough they know the existence of hunters

Bats love their standing trees in the midsts of tree cutters

Worms mate the earth in style

Even in places pickaxes dig

Why won’t our elders say

None uses his left hand to point at his father’s house?

Your own bi your own

Even fecal animals love their grounds


II

Your painting models your house

Your posture determines your win on a battlefield

By your mouth’s words, things can see the be

Even in rare miraculous realms

None uses his left hand to point at his father’s house

Your own bi your own

Even fecal animals love their grounds


III

Legs fit their perfect shoes

Bigger ones will show

Smaller ones won’t fit

Heads with wisdom need few words

To cook a perfect meaning

None uses his left hand to point at his father’s house

Your own bi your own

Even fecal animals love their grounds

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) August 3, 2017

​LOOMING DOOM

This chest feels so stuffy
Threatening tears which would drown these eyes puffy

Giving an uncomfortable holiday to the mind

Making this bed frown at the night load

Which fails to heed to the call of mobility


II

Cloud of our end looms

As a frightening beginning, in fast speed, zooms

Whips of pain of loss is in the blooms

As your back’s dust zooms

Even your thoughts, like models, parade in all rooms

What is this shattering heart to do?


III

Like a shattered mirror

A piece sees the beauty of our tearing bond

Other pieces cry in hold of the threads of hope

Which play hide and seek with shaking fingers

A little piece knows this “we” was never a good “be”

Yet this hellish heart burns itself with sadness


IV

Who made a heart a bluetooth

Which connects souls and creates holes

When breakages occur?

Who is the architect of a being that

Merges hearts into one in two bodies

Leaving them bruised into halves when separation visits?

I am a torn love leaf being roasted on fires of deception

Oh which balm heals from within?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) August 1, 2017

​STRAY HANDS

I know the throat can nag

And force a king to lie on a rag

When its demands for water through its pipe is not met


II

I know the stomach can thunder

When its bond with food is put asunder

Giving in to any bet


III

I know eyes close not

When their vessels are tied in a weakened knot

As the body, like a drug addict, frets


IV

I know every pore feels its sweat

And every soul in a body is a set

That is why hands take all they can get


V

But this is not it

We are children of warriors who oneness fitted

And through the axe of togetherness slit 

The throat of oppression

To give us this free mansion of supremacy

We are a set known in the Ubuntu

So why do some hands stray

To dupe themselves of the crown of development

Befitting our precious heads?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 2, 2017

​BE LIKE THE SKY

The sky has many eyes
Because of its strength

Its face is like a park without an owner

But it still remains firm
II

There are passing clouds

Which never succeed in wiping its beautiful blue

There are heated suns

Which never get to melt its clarity

There are the moons backed by stars

Which never get to blind its base

And there are thunders

Which never get to break its frame
III

There are days the sun battles the moon

On its face

But it stands on duty unscathed

Although darkness forces it into its cage each evening

It stays perfectly at post like a faithful soldier in the morning

Be

Be like the sky

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©August 1, 2017