TIME TO COOL OFF

There is nothing wrong with a break
After a tsunamic life shake
After all, it takes time for scared fishes to travel through rivers
Back to their sea after explosive shivers
So you in the mirror, take time to cool off

II
Eyes close take time to open
After a whirlwind
As its dust takes time to settle
Even breathing still races at its pace before simmering in hearts
After a run
So you in the mirror, take time to cool off

III
Be in no hurry lorry to settle your painful storms
Sit in no worry to drain sad flooding in your overwhelmed heart
Be reasonable and wait for the heat to evaporate
From that heart boiled on fires of hurdles
For a human is a complex machine which needs time to cool off
After overworking its emotions
So panic not, do take your time
Enough time to cool off
You in the mirror
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 20, 2019.

TO THE GREAT DAGBON

There is no ingenious cultural counting
That Sikaman will undertake
Without your number up the charts
Your beautiful fugus on your lovely leather foot-wears
Your beautiful skins worn on your humble floors
Speaking of bravery unseen to all eyes in meet
Your fierce and baffling tongues
Which leave foreigners in lost realms
Oh your many perfect crafts; from baskets to amulets
You sure are unique

II
Only few dots disconnected your perfection
Dots which have now been pieced on strings of peace
And I hope they’d stay that way

III
Oh there is no beauty in a royalty sitting in innocent blood
There is no prestige in climbing royal ladders through many corpses
There is no love in a blood painting on huge stages
The world watches, wanting to see the stamp of aggression
But shock them

IV
Shock them
By smoking the pipe of peace
Holding hands in a barn of protection
Shock them
By singing songs of togetherness
Even through the obvious separations
Shock them
By laughing at your readings and learning from your hurtings

V
Slaps destroy maps for our journey into development
Sticks burn wicks of respect in our needed aspects
Guns break barns of our beautiful histories without needed mysteries
Fires burn our wires of cognition in following eyes
Ropes murder our sanity in the land of our consciences
So let’s do away with those
Replacing them with the tool of dialogues
And the sword of pens

VI
You are so capable of keeping your dirty linens in locked washrooms
Unknown by outsiders
You are so capable
Of raising your youth with worthy examples
And reaping their awesomeness
Let Dagbon dress in peace and dignity
Love and harmony
As the fugus fly floweringly amidst your beautiful many dances
Long live Dagbon!
Long live their peace!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 19, 2019

THIS HOME WE WILL ALL GO

Heads buy thoughts from many sources
As to how it is beneath, ha!
Untrusting, fearing, praying
Souls shiver in spirits which scare bodies
But we know the trip is imperative
No matter our standing

II
I know death is an animal unseen
That whose teeth tire not in chewing
That whose hunt never fails
That animal who lives in a country which has never seen hunger
Talk less of tasted drought
That animal who knows no labels
And has the ever working trap of invisibility
But even he sits for praises in shedding human tree of leaves
To pave way for the new

III
I would rather it is like a python
I can’t think of its teeth touching bodies
I would rather dreams are foreshadows of a nation in death
Where we will see all, but uncertainties shake their heads
While nodding
Making it difficult to be sure

IV
I pray we all meet
No matter how big its stomach
To live through hugs reassuring
To love through our immortal trust in happiness
To laugh though our arrival times unsync
You green ones plucked even before your yellowing browns
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 19, 2019

THE ME OF YOU

Don’t you know me?
Pluck the sun to see my face
I am your future
Waiting patiently for your present as it comes through your past

II
Don’t you know me?
Buy a moon to look very well
I am your final back
Which would be seen by all
No matter the faces you may have shown

III
Don’t you know me?
Bribe the thunders
To hold lightning for a while in my view
I am the end of all your legacies
That which awaits your blame or blessings
That which prays for your footprints to stick in the latter
That very one who cheers
As she waits for the final baton
To speed from our body to myth
So walk well the path as I work our celebratory maths
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 18, 2019

DEVELOPMENT HOUNDS

(In honour of our fallen Tiger Eye journalist Ahmed)

You there wake the one napping there
Let him wake the one snoring there
So we can stand here and wailingly shout
Don’t ask what about
Haven’t you heard about the loss of a touch in this muddy sea we live?
We are shouting to the blood of ancestors who Bosiakoed themselves
Hoping we’d live better
We are going to wail to the restless spirits who hover in regrets
To hold safe our freedom of expression
Taking wicked bigots to the firing squad
Sanctifying mental warlords loving stupendously
Their reigns of power
And chasing voices of liberation into barns of fear
Locking them with huge padlocks of greed

II
We can’t be saddled with pox of poverty
And worry about our mouth pieces being infected with intimidatory dumbness
We can’t be scratching dwiibadwiibaa of corruption
Only for our eyes of hope to be removed
With knives of threats

III
We need the fleshless bones that fear no fall
To stand up to the conscienceless heads that fear dirt loss
We need the weeds out in order to tend to the needed plants!
We need the filthy rivers redirected
So we can clear our only sea hosting and feeding us into generations

IV
They can start with slaps of self awareness!
Then punches of mental fixation!
Then kicks to free the numbed pain veins
Which make it impossible for the their rotten teeth to feel the hurts they inflict on their own selves
If nothing works, they should seize their breaths in ancestral prisons
To clear our paths into tarred roads
To aid our growth

V
How can we be stumps forever
When rains of blessings fall from our sky in their seasons
Into our blessed loamy soils
Feeding our blessed roots?
What will be in our keep vault
When our drinking tanks have been replaced with baskets
Hidden in our many pored earth?

VI
So help call them to come
So we start the wailing
To draw our ancestors’ attention
To the imminent death of our little freedom
To avoid a future of mourning our only torch
Which leads in our days turned nights
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 17, 2019

YOU’VE BEEN ATE A LION’S EATING

You’ve been ate a lion’s eating
Your pot licked clean like an asanka of a famished seer
Even the veins in your womb have been drained of blood
Which shares your hope to other parts of your emaciated body
Why won’t every child come sensely vacant?

II
You’ve been ate a lion’s eating
No wonder your bones of failure
Precede your little flesh of freedom
How will milk in your breast not travel
Through dubious tunnels to be suckled by children of over ambitious schemers?

III
You’ve been ate a lion’s eating
Oh see how the pain makes you immobile
Sitting like simpa panyin as your exploiters
Dig your gold in the shine of your eyes
Moaning at the pleasure of your aiding leisure
And thanking the chains of your imprisoned mind for their treasure

IV
You’ve been eaten a lion’s eating
You’ve been licked a dog’s licking
You’ve been chewed in absurd kissing
Oh mother in whose womb the rains of need flood
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 17, 2019

I OWE YOU NOTHING

There is a laughter building up in the grounds of my stomach
Laughter which needs thousand voices of lionesses
To bring its intensity to ears
Whose mouths are shamelessly asking
Asking for a family building when they know
I just arrived from a war after losing a castle
A castle which was bombed after a fierce and long struggle
And I thought they’d know better

II
I owe you nothing!
Nothing at all
Not my pleasure and my time
Neither my winking nor my tickling
Not an announcing belly talk less of a tiring weakness
Neither an expected cry nor an honouring suckle
I so owe you none
Nothing at all!

III
I have taken the reigns of this horse I see in the mirror
This horse ridden by opinions into unions which bore nothing but pain
I have taken the reigns of this chariot
This chariot which carried more burdens than it could take
I am taking my time to wait for death’s call
Attending to cravings of delicacies hitherto neglected
Attending to yearnings of travelling left in past skies of fantasies
And gathering drops of pure laughter to use as makeup
When hidden challenges punch in unexpectedness
I owe you nothing, you and I know
Nothing at all!
So stop pestering!
You nosy trouble makers
Whose footsteps vanish after your handiworks!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 16, 2019

WISDOM

Educate your root to groom its tree
For the tree will in turn groom its flowers
And the flowers will bloom fruits in the grooming

II
A strong foundation is the trusted seat
Of a good building
So dig well with best pickaxes
Clear well with best shovels
Mix well the foundational mortar
A good blend of cement of responsibility, sand of respect, stones of care and water of love

III
Many empty vessels roaming in the name of beings
Would have transformed better from their fragile spermatozoa
After meeting ovaries
If these basics were solidified
So groom well your roots
And be sure to strengthen your foundation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan 15, 2019

I AM A WITCH

I am a witch!
Yes, a witch!
That witch who flies on the broom of hard work
Through canoes of the night
Paddling with rumours of the bored
On rivers of the covetous
Hoping to reach the sea of success
Without your sweats of bother
So hide not in calling

II
I am a witch!
Yes, a magnanimous witch!
That witch who attacks with claws of kindness
Heads filled with guns of hatred
In baffling shadows of keen watching sunlight
Excelling in hard tests in classes of unseen teachers
So fret not in my addressing

III
I am a witch!
A very shameless witch!
One who murders wickedness with vampire teeth
In beautiful hearts in surgery beds of hope
Dripping with blood of love to charm the indifferent
And singing devilish songs of praises at my soul winning abilities
Am I not a super witch?
So why hide in calling?

IV
Call me in dignity and show your reverence!
Kneel in a call and bow in politeness!
Serve my every need and be my every feed!
You have made me superior to humans
And so I deserve the stool of your heads!
Lest I kill all who dishonour my super powers without mercy!
I did come well! Ɔ-baa-yie-foɔ!
So why shouldn’t I ride in my queenly palanquin while your eyes shiver?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 13, 2019

MENZGOLD OR MENZZERO? (Crazy Stanzas)

There has been a huge rain of evidence
Spelling FACT in bold
Of the rot that pilolo as myth in this nation
What does it take to buy the land?
Stamps of high stools bought by currencies without solid roots!
Pictures of first personalities whose camera is set
By fundings whose stem dazzle to blind at the sight of rotten roots!
And you call this a nation?

II
There is no way tree tops won’t know the plans of naughty birds!
There is no way the grounds of the wicked
Will know not his steps even through a tiptoe!
There is no way a danceable sound can come from Fontomfrom
Without skilled hands or well shaped sticks!
If you hear a moooo, know it comes from a cow!
Oh so praises bought with rot eventually stales to stink?
Nana o! Nana nieee! Ɔkronfoɔ no wɔ he?
These two are separated by just a thin line!
It is funny, how money bought appellations of handsomeness for a normal name
Which now stands naked with a dumpster hole
Receiving curses with tears
Over-stored urine of anger
Fecal rots of insults
Painful reactions of suicides
As security eyes of millions look through even needle holes for his body!
Tweakai! Agyawaadwo!

III
How did this Jesus example pull through this modern time?
Hailers turning jail callers? Oh Judas and the cocks! Chai!
This time, look out not for an awakening of redemption!
Just ask the right questions of the how
How did this come to be?
I will say greed used as bait on mousetraps of bought validations!
From Dumas to Buari!
Vicker to Dumelo!
Stars have brightened a stinking deal to milk many dry!
Shame on you!
Shame on us!
Shame on he whose bigger plan made fools of more nations than two!
Shame on money!
Shame on fame!
Shame on intelligence whose biggest formula
Flaws many an elites in revered seats!
See how many wear masks of shame like badges of honour!

IV
We now know how easy highest beings
Can fit into pockets of the ordinary!
Nyantakyi! Bɛgye wo boɔ ɛ!
We now know all twinkles brighten not in fair shine!
Seeing as apopobibire has been mistaken for a well maintained lawn!
We see how one man has bought skirt of disgrace for our nation’s grace
Yet we sit as though we know not the stench of corrupt farthing!
Aniwuo nie!

V
I clap for the genius
Who can get another face
And live in our midst like one without blemish!
I clap for his deeds which have made a statement
Of how wealth ignores even shouting facts!
Now let us all use our little fingers
To touch our rears
After staying without bathing for a whole week and over
And smell it
For we made it possible!
Possible for NAM to make us ɛnam on his ridiculing meal!
So our canes must go for those in our mirrors
Looking deeply into our eyes!
Look not just for him in far and near
Look for him from within
Within you who are tickets for every corruption
Through trains of bribery in your deep pockets!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 11, 2019

MODELLING UNSEEN PAIN WITHIN

I look at the grieving me in any mirror
And see the monstrous horns of horror
I think about the remaining you in the cold
In between the teeth that earth crush in fold
Then I remember I was told
There was a concrete with cement sold
To the mouth of the earth through the cold
Still I think, will you be served to the moth
Who will enjoy you with a ketchup of rot?
Always at that point, this your earthly maker, feels caught
And extremely tortured by fear that conscience bought
From even the least mistakes that contributed
To your transformation into the dish of death
Then she detests her legs for stepping on the earth
And her body for riding on its legs
Knowing you are in there
Oh this is so unfair!

II
Cruelty is missing a dear
Whose voice you can never hear
Though the distance is only six feet deep
Deep loving’s machete is definitely heartbreakage of parting
I am butchered in so many pieces
Pieces of disdain
Pieces of insanity
Pieces of fretting
Pieces of regretting
Pieces of hurting
Pieces of stressing
Pieces of disbelief
Pieces of psychosis
Pieces of hate
Pieces of bitterness
Pieces of blame
Pieces of begrudging
Pieces of God taunting
Pieces of loss
Pieces of self pity
Pieces of slugging
Pieces of devastation
Pieces of cursing
Pieces of pleading
Pieces of praying
Pieces of fear
Pieces of tears
Pieces of the clumsy
Pieces of burning
And pieces fighting for calm
All beaded and adorned on the bones of this ghost
Which parades the me which hypocritically lives like an unharmed
You are in my blood
You are so in my veins
You are engraved in my bones
Carved deeply in my heart
Hanging as a huge portrait in the chamber of my mind
Never ever to be forgotten
Kwadjo Opoku Ahwinie!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Dec. 31, 2018

NOTHING MOTHERING ALL THINGS

I have been following your mythical silhouette to find its owner
Living like a leaf carried by air in the sky of uncertainty
Anger mixes frustration and disdain
As something seems like anything
All in the can of nothing
But then again
Nothing is the mother of all things
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 10, 2019

WONDERTROPIS

We have crossed the seas of wonderment
To the shores of no surprises
Overlooking waves of bizarre shocks whose lost electricity
Have turned bubbles, foaming tongues of the ever licking waters, flirting with sands
And succeeding only to open and close onlooking mouths
Without waking any sound from their belly beds

II
This is an era where relationship experts hide foot rots of hurts
In socks of personal relationships in shoes of secrecy
This is a realm where he is no barrier to a she and vice versa
This is an era where perfectly happy and parading teeth
Hide behind nosy tongues in a bite
Protected by aiding lips
All on heads made functionless by ropes in the agony of suicide
Leaving fanatics dry with unanswered “how comes?”

III
This is a realm where the robe of celebrity
Is painted with many surprising colours
The colour of vulgar fooling
The shade of horrendous stupidity
The brightness of tactless blabbering
The darkness of no decorum
The deepness of no respect
The chaos of picking on others
The annoyance of supporting the wrong
With pornographic embellishments on costly stages

IV
This is the era
The era where scammers hold the keys to doors of academicians
The era where great musicians stand in shadows of noisemakers
The era where good hearts drown in oceans of artificial advertisements
On televisions of attention seeking
This is the era where all that abomination entailed have evaporated
Into the sky of fearlessness
Letting loose every darkness made to sleep in the deep caves of man
This is an era where children school their fathers
Scold their mothers
Beat their elder siblings to fan their egos
We are in an era where pride sits in falls
A realm where sinners preach to saints
Soon, sex will be determined after juvenility
And original bodies will merge with the made believe
Making it difficult to tell this from that
Policed by laws in gloves of rights to live without enquiry
Very soon, lenses of blindness will be the clearest goggles of safety
In this space called earth
Soon, very soon, that is, if the dawn of soon has not yet landed at our ports
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 9, 2018

REMINDERERS

There are sounds which are better not made
There are scars better left under skirts of decorum
Just a stick prick, and an infection occurs
Old songs of sadness are best left unsung

II
Care is knowing the hurt path
And leaving it to grow weeds of forgetfulness
Love is seeing the painful clothing
And covering it with wool of laughter
Tenderness is wiping off pity makeups
Upon seeing a troubled soul
There sure is no grace in acting reminder
Of a pain struggling to be forgotten
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 9, 2019

WOMANOCOOLTASIES

There are many noisy drums humming definitions of women
Abena Amoafowaa Jemremedua
My ears have turned bigger than that of the biggest elephant
Hugging the ground in listening
As oceans of chaotic banter battle winds of infuriated ears.
Some define a woman as a bottomless hole meant as a collection bowl by Odomankomah Nana Nyame
Ɛneɛ sɛ ɛɛgyeaaa nie
ATMs of pleasure; palm greasing, pleasure pounding
How I wish I can turn spectator to see the mortars and pestles at work after payments!
Oh no, don’t get me wrong, I am just a reporter of the gods
No mischief intended

II
Some define the woman as hands blessed to wash like machines
Wombs imperative to host and produce children like incubators
Owonta a w’asan agye Badu guan de, na w’awei koraa
Bodies needed to nurture like hens nurture chicks
And they must have fingers whose magic transform cooking ingredients into mouthwatering delicacies
Ɛneɛ nkate nkonto eei
Ɛneɛ lapiiiwa ne abɛnkwan
Ɛneɛ nkwan pa, ɛnaeehuroyi o
Wei deɛ Papa bi nnwom, ɔse:
“Ɛtɔ ne paya, ɛyɛ me dɛ o papa bi, ɛtɔ ne paya, ɛyɛ me dɛ o papa bi”
Eeei! Bɔyiɛ bɔi!

III
Some believe a woman is a goddess to be worshipped
On her buttocks, a stool of pampering comfort
On her feet, ahenemma of the right attention
On her head, a crown of praises shining on stages worth noting
On her body, clothes of respect on pomade of prestige
Even to open her mouth for a sound to kro-chia through her throat
There must be appellations of love
Ei! At this point the art of farting and hwiiitiming beg me to ask how they come in?
But Eno Abena, I value my mouth which enjoys its kontomoa without wailing like an abused dog

IV
Some use hot punches to define a woman
They say a woman is she who can battle in intellectual rings the other homosapiens called men
Winning by a unanimous knockout and taking the belt of superiority to create change
That Va-kuhukuhuu-gi-huhmmhmm-na-eeetien
Who puts a “pain-is” on the carpenter’s table
Saws, polishes and remodels into refinement
To see no inferiority in the mirrors of their eyes
A Boss’ own boss!
Bɔyiɛ!

V
Me I know no plain words and care not for definitions
I believe a woman is she who knows what she wants and works towards it like all humans
Not an eagle who acts chicken to cuddle
Not a goat who acts sheep to belong
Not a porcupine who acts dove for praises
Not a python who acts like a water snake for validation
Certainly not a sky which acts ground to please
A woman is she who knows her and her desires
If she is an elephant, she shakes her ground with each of her coming
Breaks trees which catches her fancy
Whips idiots who try to toy with her with her trunk
Bathing in any water she deems fit to cool her temperature
Knowing none can battle her in running.
If she is a bitch
She knows how to eat rich
Barking to scare her haters
Biting to tame her chasers
Protecting her lovers even in their lows of sleep
Satisfying her passions not caring eyes in watch
Serving her masters even in plasters
So yes
A woman is she who knows her body itches and definitely scratches to feel relief
She is no woman who tries to fit into tight clothes of obligations
Set by standards to kill her real self
She is no woman who puts handcuffs of opinions on her wings
Through norms to sit on trees of stagnancy
Only to pass her bitterness on as inheritance
I definitely am a woman
One whose corner enjoys some peace by living quietly
Let the definitions go on until sense settles in unbrellaring all minds
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 4, 2019

ANEW

We have crossed a bridge of a year onto another
Another which needs no bags loaded with problems
Dragged into its realm
Another whose slate can accommodate no old news
Let alone entertain old sentimental views
Shed it, we’re birthing ourselves anew

II
Our past can only be the fertilizer of our present
The more rotten, the better working
We are shedding the productiveness of our hard work
On skies of daydreams
Shedding the poison of self entitlement into gratitude and open mindedness
We will see no successes on trees of night dreams
Via forced wishes garnished with bitterness
There will be no monies hanging on phantom trees
We will plant seeds of money no matter how little,
Water them through self motivated hard work
Nurture them through dedication
Protect them by clearing weeds of greed
Until they grow to feed us
We are birthing our zeals anew

III
We are never reheating problems of our yesterday
In our vision pots of today
When we can get no nutritional solutions by feeding our minds with it
We are wearing clothes of positivity
Lenses of objectivity
We are wearing boots of determination
Holding bags ready to host laurels oh so attainable
Unnecessary feathers weighing us down
Will be carefully plucked to help us better fly
If we were chickens, we’re now eagles
If we were dogs, we’re now lions
If we were donkeys, we’re now wild elephants
We won’t sink low and kowtow no blows
We won’t nurse fears and rain no tears
We won’t hold each other in a pull-him-downs
We are helping each grow, hand in hand
This is the resolution
The resolution vehicling our actions to our successes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 3, 2019