LADYBOY

Ladyboy
Are you not under the umbrella of pressure
Having to hide your he in clothes of a she?

II
Ladyboy
Do you not feel the pain of your cracking ego
When you lie beneath for a pounding
Hounding your rear hole?

III
Ladyboy
Even with lubrications
Your rear might have altercations with pain
Oh is it the rule of pleasure parceled in pain?

IV
Ladyboy
Don’t you mostly feel like a toy
Having to act queer to steer
When some fem craves you in a kingly stool?

V
Ladyboy
I know insensitivity has crept into this ink
So punch me not with your sour wits
These questions can just hang on the ropes of my curiosity
So go on and shake those buttocks
Raise your pretty fingers to throw off those non existent hairs from your face
Lilt your voice to seduce your target
And leave this inquisitive ink to dry in no-attention
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 23, 2019

TELL ME WHAT I NEED TO KNOW

Tell me
Tell me what I need to know
Break the ice of secrecy which burns my heart’s core
Please tell me

II
I can’t tell you I saw you lovingly kissing her lips
I can’t tell you I saw how you happily unzipped her zips
I can’t tell you I saw you skillfully unstrapping her bra
So annoying how she cunningly called you “Braa”
I can’t tell you the goosebumps that grew on my skin
As you dug deep into her to fetch her scornful mourns from her whoring in
I don’t know what pains more
Her happy cries or your proud cheating?
Her taunting beauty or my starved bed?
Whatever it is, do tell me

III
This chirping bird in my mind can work my hands into harm
So tell me, even if you hide under the cover of her charm
My chest has climbed jealous mountains higher than Afadjato
Still, it runs up and down in fury with no tired traits
So tell me
This face which pretentiously smiles
These hands which with a little shiver serve
These legs which move around
All call for your head
So tell me
Leave not my mind to host dialogues of veins
So tell me
So I can fold my mat and leave your hut
Hearts after all are like boiling water
Once they are taken off the fires of bad love
They simmer to cool
So please tell me
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 3, 2018

THE STATE OF FATE

This is the state of fate
Where every second hang foot-wears and paths
For naked and blind feet to step into
Knowing nothing that awaits
Not thorns nor sticks
Nails nor smooth roads
Trees nor shrubs
Rains or sunshine

II
This is the state of fate
Where every day holds spectacles for unsuspecting eyes
Who like blind folks wear what is to be worn in a higher script
And play parts on stages which arrested their control
Long before their births

III
This is the state of fate
Where own will was colonized before conception
Beautiful lies!
Handsome deceptions!
Pathetic boldness!
Slaves in a make believe apparel of royalty!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 25, 2019

BEASTS IN FLOWERS

Only a devil will push his tail in a nation
Forcefully
Only a pig breaks into a temple to leave prints of dirt
Happily
Only a coward chases to have what is not theirs
Possessively
Sit, take out your consciences
Polish, clean out the monstrousness
And put them back
If you can’t, just cut that tail
There are tailless ones who leave this earth unstained with blame
Think, rethink and choose
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 28, 2019

APPEALING FOR MURDER

There is a cave deep down this mountain of chaos
Sewn with stones at its entrance by the thread of greed
In there are tears of the broken
In there are the songs of those dumb by fear
Therein lie the youth of troubled children
Oh in there lives the hope of the poor
Their pride hugging their humanity there too
Please, send no vulture to tear the thread of the stone
In spying if they still live
For they have been there too long
That their owners have already performed their funerals
Too bad their dignities also live in that cave
Making their mourning a public affair
To the happy eyes of they who left their consciences as skilled guards
To the precious parts of my beloveds
They who revere in their own strength in hunting humans
And taming them into their faithful dogs
They who are protected by the famished barks of the hungry
Loved by the blind sight of the lost
Worshipped by souls who have lost touch with discernment
And so their perverted laughters walk the street and roam the caves
Butchering maimed souls

II
Send no hawk in spying if the precious parts of my beloveds liveth
I fear they’d also see the hopelessness and come back
To hunt their chicks
Who are born dishonoured
Send no ant in spying too
I am afraid they might find a little hole to crawl therein
Stealing in bits bites to save for their rainy season
Just send your sword to relieve their necks of the burden of carrying their heavy heads
Heavy heads filled with mounds of tiredness
Sand of shamelessness
Mountains of unrecognized hard work
And sealed with skulls heavily built with metallic manipulations
To believe what once was as what never was
And what is as the norm of chains necessary for ghostly freedom
There will be no blood for a blood bath
So worry not Mantsɛ
You know they’ve all been drained and replaced by diesel of religious dementia
So they will fertilize the land
And the happiness will be in seeing the lords hunger like slophs
As their untrained hands rebel in working
Their currency-pampered feet demonstrate in moving
And their egos cry their fall from crowns to their own feet
End this eyesore Onukpa
And let the land die to live
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 22, 2019

TO THE POINT OF GUILT

This space
This space beyond fear
This space drained of tears
This space with no claws of penury
This space where different colours of freedom pimp my ride
This space opened to curiosity of carelessness
This space where arms of start-overs stretch
This space debtors slip off to their far falls to a never rising end
This space where ropes for my roboting cut themselves loose
This space where all paths of deceits are blocked
This space where mirrors of pity are extinct
This space where true independence befriends
This space where no eyes hang on skies of superiority
This space of no restrictions
All opening up to a fondness of your gone
Drives me to a point of guilt
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 18, 2019

MY FIRE

Not every bee around honey is its producer
Some look to steal, acting among
Not every raised hand is for praise
Some are up to act as trap cues
I can see the mischievous fans
Hiding murderous intentions in fanning
While parcelling love with smiling
Oh you fake fans!
You can try all you can
But the air to kill my fire resides not in your fans!

II
If my fire were yours to take out
Your sweats wouldn’t need to shout out
Your wrists wouldn’t need to think bouts
Your eyes wouldn’t cry to red out
Your smile wouldn’t brighten to crack out
Your strength wouldn’t rebel to die out
Say what you may
Eyes of your dark record your struggles

III
It is laughable you know
Strong trees have connived with bored air
To get this fire out and failed
Storms have flirted with seas
To get this fire out but failed
Typhoons have acted foxes to try their luck but miserably failed
Tsunamis have broken seas, killed many important fishes
To get this fire out but oh so failed
Do you think your common fan can out
What its heavenly superiors failed to?
My chuckle hides in sympathy for your pain
Oh I hope frustration tears not the veins of your sanity
In my chase

IV
When I fall looking at you, it is out of my charity
To see you at least feel better
But these bones malleably made will never die in a fall
Not your fall
So fan a whistle with killer rumours
Fan little fires in dry grasses under my care
Try to block my angelic air strengthening my fires
And see if your fan catches not fire
To lynch you out

V
I am fire only the Lighter can quench
In own day and time
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 15, 2019

FEAR

If there is a fire that lights the path of mistakes
Surely, fear is its lighter
If there is a wire that electrocutes dreams in pregnancy
Surely fear constitutes its positives and or negatives
If there is a chair in hell
Pushed thither in swiftness
Fear surely has a hand therein
For farfetched fumblings felt for forced fainting is
Feasibly fenced by fear

II
It hovers
Hovers around wishes like dogs
It hovers
Hovers around hard work like famished lions
It hovers
Hovers around success like untamed monsters
It surrounds
Surrounds will like prison for hardened criminals
So break free

III
Don’t you?
Don’t you want to open that fearsome gate of your fear
To see what lies within?
Don’t you?
Don’t you want to walk across the threatening fire
To see what lives
What lives and breathes so guarded?
Don’t you?
Don’t you want the freedom of cuffing fear and throwing it
To the jeers that you pursue?
What will be the worst in your trying?
Even death is a cocoon of freedom
Fenced tightly by daunting fear
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 27, 2019

CRACKING THROUGH (For the depressed)

Winds of confusion snake through unseen corners of minds
Throwing dust on enthusiasm in the darkness of loving eyes
Breaking dignities and will to live
All the while working from within to without like a bomb in a living being
Without showing signs on bodies
So let’s beware
II
Look beyond smiles
And listen through the fine
Care for the supposed cared
And speak to cankers hidden miles within hearts
Take walks with shining stars
To squash lonesomeness hidden in reverence
Hug unreachable souls
And seek some help from psychological experts
Pray only for faith and let God help experts work to save bodies
We need to be alert like hunting lions
To protect our own and help us live
To help us live
Live with each other to our lives fullness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 9, 2019

THE AMMUNITIONLESS WEAPON

Aminata thought and thought
Is she to give her youth to this brown leaf
Ready to fall off the tree of life
And watch her green Musa in another’s arms?
The thought brought shivers down her spine
But which weapon of a mouth does she have
To stand on the battlefield of parental war
To reject Mba Salifu, her father’s chosen?
Marry she must but a plan must save
So she did think

II
The night saw no sleep as she all of it planned
From beneath to the top
Swinging to flinging
Doggying to standying
Fucks after fucks after fucks after fucks
Mba Salifu thought it adorable at first
Then skeptical, then frustratingly fearful!
His home became his hell
Always tiptoeing never to be caught
To be sexually flogged
For there were no mornings in Aminata’s dictionary
She knew not the heat of the afternoons
The serenity of the evenings gingered her on
And the thrills of the night energized her
She was like a bull overworking her master

III
Wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi!
This young lady can push this old tree down the tip of death’s cliff
“I must free this bird so I can peacefully sleep on my bed”
And so it was
In a week plus its second subordination
Blaming his ill health for a parting
She led her like a lamb
Home to the bosom she cherished
To be able to blossom together
Aminata’s mischievous smile hides her answer today
As Musa still questions how she did it
A kiss clears his thoughts always
She will never tell him
She will never tell him about the ammunitionless weapon
Which secretly fought the society and won for them their love
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 3, 2019

THE BARE BRUTALITY

(Written at the Genocide Centre in Kigali)
There is a bitter taste in my mouth
Sitting here
Here, where spirits of innocent Tutsi’s fight back tears of their loss
Here, where their few leftovers go and come
Like struck sheep
Still knocked out by degrading shocks
Even after years are nearing their thirty steps
Only my fingers obey my thoughts
My mouth refuses to open

II
What is this?
Hands of brothers acting on voices of sisters
To murder with clubs and machetes and guns and ropes and fire
As pious rivers were forced to soil themselves by swallowing the innocent?
What brutal forces forced grown men
To throw children like unwanted fruits
Against walls to be horribly deceased?
What deadly seeds grew that anger
Which made sane men hunger for blood of their neighbours?
Which deadly waters served an unquenched thirst
To a point where men took the dignities of women in eyes of carers and
Planted AIDS to germinate bitterness and disgust?
What horrid pills drugged consciences into deep sleep
To create a mess that makes many weep
Just so some egos could dust their needs?

III
I am torn
Torn in pity
Torn in annoyance
Torn in minds oh so vulnerable
Torn in hurts
Torn in pain
Torn in manipulations oh so insane
Torn in bitterness
Torn in shame
Torn in pieces of climbing shocks
Torn in tears
Torn in fears
Torn by years oh so bonkers!
Weeping for my Africa slashed and butchered
Raped and gunned
Spit on and burnt
Slapped and hanged
My Africa nurtured as brutes and made to work
To dent a history
A history of love!
My Africa whose breath still works even through the torment!

IV
I pray for a border to stop the bother
And a sanity to cancel insanity
I pray for happiness to burn the pain
And a peace refreshner to kill the rage
I pray for a haunting to chase farmers
Of cruelty of us against our ours
I pray for immunization of this hellish genocide
For love to thrive in place of hate
I pray for baits knotted by mischiefs
To turn around to bite hands of their masters
I pray for us to guide our ours
And kill our hunters so known as sires

V
Never again must this rope stifle us into shedding our greens!
Never again must those machetes
Butcher our fathers and pierce hearts of our brothers!
Never again should we be compelled
Like impoverished merchants
To buy bullets for our firing!
Never again!
Never ever again must we turn penises to rape our women and unright their fate
Never ever again must that dark drown our blackness with its beauty and dignity
Tribe never defined but refined and must so sit to better us in dynamisms
This scar will forever be but must actually remind us
To be soldier ants
Guarding our safety through brotherhood and sisterhood and motherhood and fatherhood
Long live Rwanda!
Long live the continent!
Long live the Africa who has seen and felt it all!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 7, 2019

THE PENSIONER-TODDLER

We are here
A stop from the suppression there
Like the lost freshly liberated
We are here
Knowing not what is fair
Like a set of fowls in hungry-hawk-city

II
We are here
A hop from the crying square
Like bloodied and maimed warriors
We are here
Still fumbling and walking bare
Like toddlers

III
Through storms of hurricanic dollars
The cedi battles
Through fits of political schemers
Our peace wins on tickets of democracy
Through tornadoes of academic manipulation
Our scholars soldier on
Isn’t it great that we are under our loving umbrella
Whirlwinds before storms before tsunamic corruptions?
Oh we are loving
Loving through it all
Our memories acting as temporary slates
Our dense problems always fading like sick entertaining jokes

IV
Today let’s celebrate
Kente on Kete
Fugu on Jera
Skilled muscles on agbadza
Mmari-ntama on ahenema
As fufuo and abɛnkwan wait on mastery stomachs
Tuo and ayoyo wait on warrior intestines
Ampesi and abomu wait on skilled teeth
Ɛtiw and mfantse-mfantse wait on brave throats
As akple and fetri-detsi look forward to smooth rides through happy throats
Forget not the nsa-fufuo
Nor the pito talk less of brukina and lamugin
Oh we’re so winning so let’s so celebrate!

VI
We know we are pensioner-toddlers
Biting ourselves where it hurts
Mishandling our flowers of development
And squashing fruits of our success stories
But we’ll figure all out
And get there
There
Where sense stubbornly dwells
We will adorably get there
Through dreams and hurts
As fleas or eagles
As dogs or lions
We will figure it all out
As we journey through
Just as Gold Coasted us into Ghanaians
For we dwell on freedom
And ride on justice
Long live Sikaman!
Long live Ghana!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 6, 2019