NYANE TAKYI

Nyane, nyane Takyi
And pluck him from the dreams of illusions
Which has painted a heavenly innocence
For his troubled reality

II
Nyane, wake Takyi
The mythical evidence that muatia in Ghana did bless
actually worked out there
In metamorphosis into disgrace
Sad it still had a metal hand for slapping

III
Nyane o, wake Takyi
Even if oil paint of shame paints his sorry soul
Dripping in drops of regret spilled like milk
Into unsympathetic sands

IV
Nyane wai, wake Takyi
To see his typhoon of being in the pocket of greed
Carried on waves of ridicule
On a sea of disgrace

V
Nyane o wake Takyi
To shout out his dying love out of his lungs
To his beloveds on thrones of glory
To use him as an example to hang corruption by the neck, suffocating it to death by morn
Lest they turn stones used to balance kitchen stools
On dusty compounds
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 31, 2018

Photo Credit: Google Pics
(Nyane is an Akan word meaning “wake”. Muatia is the Akan word for dwarfs.)

THE GOD IN A WOMAN (Crazy Stanzas)

We
Don’t need to fight
In broad day and night
About who fits the spotlight
Of the human might

1b
We
Don’t need to kill
In a battle of wits and will
To bring living to a standstill
Just so a faction can after chill

1c
We
Are on this common ground
So why do we ourselves hound
In a fate that we have found?
Does it even right sound?

2
I could
Tell tales of a human with a building
With strong walls for shielding
And the key for keeping
Is it not a form of creating?

2b
I can
Point to the hole of passion
In whom many souls have themselves auction
At will of keepers in action
Oh a she is a beautiful station

3
God is a creator like us
God is a reliever like us
God is compassionate like us
She rises in the sun like us
She falls through rains like us
God massages with air like us
Her fury is to be feared like us
That is the God in a woman

4a
Oh
Labels are naught like God
Shadows are nothing like God

4b
So let egos sit beside pride
In a harmony side by side
For smooth ride even in a harsh tide
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 27, 2018

PRINCE 1

It started like child’s play
As you listened to the naught I say
It started like a fake dream
A soothing balm on hurt scream
Oh a snail’s pace would have won
If it was a competition started by a horn
But you did creep in, somehow

II
Now I am left thinking
Whether the thought of approach was that thinking
Or an afterthought
Bought after a will’s fought
Never think me sly
Truly I am an innocentia in that dawning fort
But I did feel, on your thoughts, high
As the mind pricked to answers sought

III
Unfortunately there was a jolt
Abruptly made by a revelation
Which to many might be blessings
But to this mind, a warning
Blame not the you
Who saw the fingers which wore not your ring
Its head was crowned and damaged long ago
By the cursed royalty of adulthood
Making firmness one of her many flaws

IV
If there was ever a prince I envisaged
Standing close, shadow to shadow, in the light of sunset
That was you no matter how brief
If there was ever a peace in fantasy
Ridden by chariots of my dreams
You promised a perfect companion
I just hope, decisions like mine
Will not separate the handshake of friendship
Built on tickets of hard trust
This is me, one in much
A soul difficult to see
Seen by your expert eyes
But fate has written a perfect script
In whose ink on my loving sheets, you are hardly seen
I just hope you are blessed with a me
No matter how rare
Who will squeeze out all the love there is
To blend with yours into your mortal eternity
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 26, 2018

MEOWS TO ROARING

Once there was a lion
Who chanced upon cats in their Zion
It saw the fear his picture booked
And thought if it could scarily be looked
Then surely forever it would reign
So its roaring, was day and night’s rain
As day walked into a frightening week
The cats shivered but noted its weak
One was able to gather and say
Fear crushes but needs a pay
So they did gather their pain into rage
And came to be, on same same page
Their voices did merge
And drove lion on panic verge
It run and run and run and fell
Into a ditch which rocks did sell
And so it was that the meows roared
And in their victory, they rightly soared
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 23, 2018

HAPPINESS

Happiness is always an art
Using the senses to break hurdicular fences
Happiness is always within
Waking smiles even in painful miles

II
Happiness is seeing the beauty through the filth
Hearing the rhythms through the chaos
Feeling the air through the hurricanes
Loving you in surrounding hate
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 22, 2018

ASSEMBLIES OF GOD OFFINSO

Maybe my engine of worship needs oiling
Maybe I have, like Satan, been alienated
By blasphemous thoughts which have walked miles from my past
Throwing the bitter dust of yesteryears into my spectacled eyes
Maybe I am a stranger in a manger of convincing
But why me?
The smiling sky with fair air
Is not the mirror reflection of countenances
Forcefully wearing makeup of worship
Need written on the almost completely feminine congregation
I could see the acts of sheepdom
Kneeling and pleading for whatever their hidden hearts pin
I can see the goat acts
Shouting in pride with a parcel of confidence
That spells heaven-at-all-cost
But reeking, had-it-not-been-for-Bra Kwame
I can see the dog acts on minds shaped to need companies
To build more mouths than their storages worth
The few male commodities reeking of honey of self importance
I can see the over possessive female cocks
Yearning for attention through tongues they themselves believe not
Why can’t any sweat shine with perfumed oil?
I guess their pockets have week after week been weeded and burnt
Just for the space and beautification we see
Look at the dukus garnishing heads in entirety,
In halves,
And those with previous mermaid hairs in inviting head garnishing
Poor group, hoping at least for cuddles in their hurdles
With eyes purely spiritual and none realistic
No, poor me with a soul so lost
A mind so going to hell’s peak of heat
A heart detested by the heavens
A pure black sheep among white souls,
Only with skins of blackness seen by stained mortals,
Like that lost sheep which will either be caught by wolves
Or fall in a ditch
Or killed by mere thorns
Who am I to ever, ever see and think
Let alone talk about the heavily suited shepherd with deafening mic
Whose skin might be raining into his ovened shirt
As he leads his sheep through shouting and translations?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 21, 2018

A SOOTHING RAP

Clouds are clearing in this dark
I can see the hazy moon flanked by its numerous stars
Light rays, with their toes, make visible many a mark
But breakages have arrested almost all bars
Shaking in collapsing
Freeing hope of its masking

II
I can see in drying, tears of dawn
I can see in heating, its chilling cold
I know the webs of morn will by the sun be withdrawn
And I can see the right light hold
So climbing filth upon hurts, hate upon chills
Do fill my quills

III
There is a new world rising
There is a new joy swimming up
There are new love smiling
There is a new, a new life map
Nostalgia builds up excitement and all I hear is a soothing rap
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 19, 2018

ALWAYS MY BABY IN MY HEART

On this day I severe the placenta of care
With the scissors of nonsensical ties
Brought forth by atrocious idiocy
Nevertheless, you are my baby in my heart

II
On this day
I make you a trap
A trap made for heads drunk with bitterness
Living in a forest of no- sense
Should they step a little on you
By Jove they will know
You are my baby in my heart

III
Be the strong you’ve always been
Be that warrior you’ve always been
Never bow to the hurricanes that battle you on health fields
Mama’s prayers add on libations of your ancestry
Because you will always be my baby in my heart

IV
It is just unfortunate I yoked an insane poison to pollute your rights
It is just unfortunate I was bitten by a rabid dog of naivety
To push you into a madhouse of chaos
But Akwaasuamu and Asubone protect you
You are the great grandson of Nana Yaw Agyare
One no knife must touch lest the hand that wields suffers extinction
You are a royal who fits the throne of Abetifi
Oh sickness is a dare!
Even in your loneliness
Know you will always be my baby in my heart

V
A curse hangs on any finger that will point ill your way
Blindness will uproot any eye that will cast evil your way
Let any heart that hate on you try
A blast will put it into the past
Know you’ve always been my religion
And will always be my baby in my heart
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October, 17, 2018

THE TREE OF AUCC

Creativity just walked under the shed of AUCC
Re-echoing its bosshood in thought
Embracing bosoms ready to blossom
Announcing its determination to surpass the fertility its umbrella gives
Time’s tongue is yearning to tell tales of
Inventions, wordy and active!
Visitations thrilling and impacting!
Innovations interesting and glorifiable!
Trains of goodness hide in steps of practicalities, and will
Yield harvests so fulfilling that the globe will stalk Adabraka!

II
Abyss of intelligence has been born!
Resources apparalling fashionistally
Talesomely, tellingly, trackingly oh thankfully!

Sing supportive songs to seal the deal
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 17, 2018

Photo Credit: Google Pics

IN GRATITUDE

There was a rock that knocked my senses
To see hurled life stones
Amidst wincing and weeping
As materials for building in this storm

II
You were the ink that gathered my alphabets
Even when my pages got wet
With rains of my tears
To gather for me a crowd of cheers

III
You are my touch of maturity
Taking off my past mask in motion slow
To make me see how blessed I am
To have featured in your oven of glory

IV
For all the love you have written through me
On hearts of many far and near
I worship in gratitude, head on the ground
Like a pious Muslim

V
Keep my state to walk my fate
Oil my sanity to fill my maturity
Make me love all my rains no matter their torrents
Know I am so grateful
For the shadows that protect
Even in my darkest hours oh King of Glory!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Oct 16, 2018

IN MY BODY TEMPLE

Be in my day
And have your say
Plaster memories so coarse with happiness
Tile failures so humiliating with greatness
Paint tears with infectious laughter
In my body temple

II
Be in my say
And help cut my hay
In this perfect sun
Help me no downtrodden shun
Cover my pain
With the beauty of gain
In this body temple

III
Do bless my sky
For buttering my pie
Whether buttering so good
Or others to brood
Sweeten all life potion
To strengthen locomotion
In my body temple

IV
Let love wash my hate
Gifting fulfilment to build my faith’s estate
Fill my erosions
To fit my emotions
You, my God, is my strongest tower
So nothing should plant cower
In my body temple
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 14, 2018

FLY YOUR LAST

So you are aggressively flying here and there
When most of your heads are hanging
Some in the hands of your owners
As your anger of blood gushes out like angry tap water fighting through a small hose
Masters, fly your last!

II
Ei! Look at the mould on your sense
Disgustingly hairier than abandoned spoilt foods of the gods
Look at the line of your words
Nonsensically crooked as though they come from a filthy sty
Just ask the mirror for the nature of your eyes
You are like a never lived vampire hanging between the power of the gods
And the will of spirits
Ah! Kon kon kon kon kon kon kon kon!
The time is wake-oclock!

III
Wake-oclock at the dawn of many sensible fingers
Holding erasers specially made for outmodedness and stupidity!
Stupidity that some souls must stay in their shadows to model their jittery steps!
The pickaxe of fairness has dug the tomb of misogyny!
The shovel of equality is waiting to clear the soil of egoism
To bury the dark which chained high minds to stakes of domesticity
So fly hither and tither with your last strength
Until you die to be birthed anew
Into the day of sensefulness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Oct. 12, 2018

ALL THIS LOVE FOR TRUMP

Some whirlwinds come for admiration
Some do come to blind
I have watched you take your world by storm
Conquering odds to stand tall through ridiculous gait
With hooting superseding ovations
Disgust overpowering cheers
All the while asking
Is all this for Trump?

II
I bet you didn’t think of the battle on your way up
I bet you didn’t plan your tactics through all the firing
I bet you thought light of your armour
No wonder you’re boxing difficulties even with peace
I guess the spider has outgrown its web, making me ask
Is all this for Trump?

III
Now you have turned into an “akate”
All farms you touch die in the birth of their blooms
Now you have turned god of drought
All rivers you touch dry
As fast as sand gulps water
Now you have turned virus
All minds you touch need anti-viruses which in turn suggest formatting
Which sometimes fails to work
Calling for abandonment
Which soul can take so much love from its hatred cooked hatred
And stand tall in so much ridicule?
Are you a walking corpse or a dead goat star?
Need I ask
Is that all for you?

IV
You are brave in being that gutter flooding your family
You are a star for being that darkness consuming your loved ones
You need claps of honour
For all the strength negativity has built
For your chosen red road
No wonder appellations of discomfort toe your line
I wish I knew your pillow to ask if your body is a widower
A widower torn from its soul
From the beauty of insults to the hurts of countable love
I ask
Is this all for Trump?

V
Oh nature may have been kind to make you this handsome
With mmefe hair and unique skin
Hidden eyes and voiceful noise
Impulsive thoughts and unrestrained guts
Be sure not to befriend lunacy on your way out
Be careful not to chat suicide on your way down
Just think not of hugging amends in a hurting fall
Stand tall and be sure to win at all times
At least to compensate for the model you uprooted from magazine covers
Into your shadow
You beautiful nemesis of a once great land!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Oct. 7, 2018

ROUGH

Are you a meteorologist of femininity
Reading through its seasons to pick?
Are you a weather so changing a blue
Combing through skies to lick?
Are you a fire, burning through seasons to kill?
You definitely must be a chameleon, reflective of every passing colour!

II
You picked me up like sunny season
Only to drop me in season rainy
Like a stale spittle in a royal mouth
To pick but a clone of me
One who fell from your branch by harmattan’s dawn call
Only for your cycle to continue with different specimen in season
Are you a wicked walking sky?

III
I pray
For you to be burnt by a hotter sun
Hosted by you to set at your will
I pray
For you to meet a fiery thunder
After an enlightening lightning strikes your cruel cue
I pray
For you to lose your lining silver
After one hot made clouds!
Pray
No harmattan drains your juices
After your taunting spells
Nature should be fair to call you to discipline
To give you a punishing crown of pain
For all the fallen seasons oh you wicked sky!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 9, 2018

I DO YOU, DON’T DO ME

Mr. says she is evil
Who allows more than a pestle to pound in her mortar
Mr. says she is petty
Who uses the many mortars a pestle pounds into to act same
His reason, pestles go whole and come not less
Mr. says pestles always come to their original mortars
After straying no matter how beautiful their adventures
But Mr. didn’t think of the mind always digging up
Emotions of hurts
In belongingness breached by outside poundings

II
Mr. thought not well through
Mr. spoke, sɛbi, from his pot of selfishness
In a normal world
Mortars can welcome more pestles at once
In this modern world
Nkofie which previously gave us out
Surely can be cleared even days or months ahead
Those questioning eyes should rather look into your reflection
In this modern world
A mortar’s ticklish wishes hide not in chains of morality
Why should “you do me” not embrace “I do you”?

III
By all means Mr. should hold his pestle on his charming forehead
Hammering away in welcoming mortars
But should be no Agokoli building a high fence in manipulations
What is a world of two where one’s explorations forbid the other?
What is a world of two when one fills his feelings and shuts another’s in?
What is a world of two when one’s guttering filth can fill a virtuous temple static in a land of holiness?
Mr. is like a goat building metal fence for a vulnerable sheep
Mr. thought not well through
Does he think himself superhuman?

IV
As for me o
His haunts can’t taunt my hunt
As for me o
His “hei”s hurt not my “hi”s
As for me o
His poundings are tickets for my pounded
As for me o
The sky is one on our earthly pates
So “I do you, don’t do me” is his child play
Made up to tickle my nkro bɔ
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 28, 2018

The Sightful Kareuteurs

Mama, I have seen a miracle
A miracle which walks eyelessly eyeful
An inspirational walking miracle
Whose tail has been held by life
And used as bait to be placed in a jungle of hardships
Mama, but you can’t believe how hardship hides from this soul
On its very grounds

II
Mama, I am in awe
Watching a wondrous in closed eyelids
Go higher than supposed eyefuls
And beating them to seeing
Who turns curses to blessings so beautiful in a typhoon of misfortunes?
Who knows so very much with just a world of imagination?

III
Mama, I am like a stone struck by an awakening lightning
Do I have a choice to whine
When this wonder stands in line?
Do I have a voice to cry
When this black star refuses to sigh?
Do I have the right to weakness
When this soul exudes mountains of strength?
Mama, please see through my shock
The laurels I never see by day in a whole!
I am in awe
Watching a sightless sighting of a great he
A great he who will be all that he wants
No matter the prison bars of limitations
Placed on him by this cruel earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 29, 2018

BREAKING THE BREAKING

Let’s break the legs of abuse
And force some heads to conscience use
Let’s break hurt’s defying legs
To put under sanity wisdom’s pegs
For many walls weep in their keep
And many wills break in their sleep

II
See the macho hounding a stick
None will tell you it is a prick
Its are made in anger’s dark
Taking clothes off a man to bark
Odufodufono!
Oodufadufano!
Muscles do need restraints of empathy
To have the beauty of nature’s sympathy

III
So break a sweat to stop an ill
Break indifferences fence to work a will
Mouths can break but hands can kill
Wait not long to see a still
Feel to seal death’s meal in pest
And let chaos remain a laughable jest
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©Sept 30, 2018