HERDSMEN

As you lead
…your flock to feed
And they follow
…through roads vast and narrow
Do you see their flesh as meat?
Do you think of them food?

II
They see only you
…and your moving steps
You’re their light
…their trusted guard
You’re their lord
…their hope restored
Still do you see
…them as your feeds?

III
They will eat
…even your poisoned food
…without a question
…or a drop of doubt
They will fight your fearsome battles
…and will kill
…in your humble name
You’re their emotional sky
…and a king so high
Still do you see
…them as your food?

IV
I so stand
…in questioning pity
But they don’t know
…or seem to care
I so see
…the tragic lead
But they live oblivious
…to the dangerous threats
…of your marked abbatoir

V
Why do I feel
…like your poor cattle
As I helplessly live
…in a chaotic lead?
Why do I tear up
…like a sad sad sky
As I see you relate
…to your subjective crew?
I guess I feel like a cow
…among the cattle of citizens
As we are led by political herdsmen
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 24, 2019

LESSONS UNLEARNED

Once a jackal traveled to the land of lions
…in search of secrets which made them strong
…because its family continuously complained
…about the shame of scavenging
…and the grossness of vomit meals

II
Knowing it is unwanted in the lions’ den
The jackal hid in their nearby bushes
…but time did not travel far
…before it was caught
…and like a strange meal
…brought before the lion king to be caged
The first lesson sinking in the fear stricken mind of the jackal
…vigilance

III
The lions sat together
…with their lionesses
…who were the best hunters
…and were so noted
Each day saw a strict routine
Day as night for rest
Night as day for hunting
They never missed
…they never complained
…they never lied to skip, rain or storms
…they never fought on whose trip
The second lesson fell into the mind of the jackal
…discipline

IV
Whenever there was a sign of a stranger
They all came together to bell the danger
And worked like bulls to protect their territory
Marking none out for death
After a conquer
…they all celebrated and cheered
Another lesson rained in the heart of the jackal
…strong defence

V
A lion got wounded
…and was brought in the den
All brought bits and pieces
…to feed the unfortunate
…tending to it, looking for herbs that worked
…until its fit
Writing bold lessons
…loyalty and intelligence

VI
They caged some of their hunt
…like the proverbial ant
…and trained their cubs
…like their tomorrows existed not
…they planned their territorial hunts
…and worked through their dangers
…before their hunts
The jackal saw many lessons
…future planning
…preparing young as tomorrow’s old
…tacticianism before practicality

VII
In the rain
…their caves never broke in
…in their play
…their practice never slowed
…a lesson of strong foundation
…and resilience

VIII
The jackal was seen as gross
…and was spared to go after vomiting and eating
Its family listened to all it had seen
…and learned
But were never ready to wake to work
…they pointed at each other for the start of change
…always looking out for a ready kill
…they continously fed their young their vomit
…and ate the rest when their young got satisfied
They were quick to push their own
…to be eaten by their gluttony, their corruption and their fears
…just to be safe
And their territory was never safe
…dangerous animals visited for their kills

IX
Till this day
The nation of jackals live on carcasses
…of the strong lions
…always crying for a future strong
…while sleeping on their strengths
…fingers of blame pointing at each other
…eyes of jealousy forcing legs to run into living
…within beasts for crumbs of carcasses
This is the story of unlearned lessons
…breathing in tears of dying
…into nonexistence
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 23, 2019

TACTICAL

Strain to gain
…or main to reign
Don’t-
…chain to cane
Don’t-
…drain to pain
There is a rain called karma
It holds a hellish hammer
It hits and hears no “Mama”
And pities none’s sad murmur
Know the end of a con is vain
…it is not like gold which refines to shine
…it is like food eaten into diarrhea-like defecation
Unpleasantness is its clothing
Shame
…is its make-up
Hatred
…is its cologne
And regret
…is its self lashing whip
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 22, 2019

GOD IN NATURE

The God in a bird
…is its singing
…its planting
…and its flying
The God in a dog
…is its servitude
…its protection
…and to some, its companionship
The God in fowls
…is blessings of bells of waking
…lessons of care of chicks
…and still, their delicious meat
The God in pigs
…is the lesson of love even in the gross
…the taste of heaven in filth
…and happiness in being loathed for dirt baths
God in the sun
…is its light
…its rising and setting
…its heat
God in the moon
…is its ability to conquer darkness
…lead the dark-blinded
…and rule the sky
God in beautiful flowers
…is their colour
…their nectar and fragrance
…their lessons of transiency
God is in every piece of nature

II
God is the smile
…which can light a soul
God is the feed of needs
…of one being by another
God is the hand of help
…for every struggling spirit
God is words of comfort
…for all weary souls
God is the seed of trust
…for those in self doubts
God is the healing hugs
…for every sad body
God is the pathfinder
…for the roaming lost
God lives in our goodness
…and our every effort of right
…even in the lesson of our wrongs

III
God is the cheer in every queer
God is the dear in every hear
God is the satisfaction in every food
…the quench-thirst in every cup of water
She is the life in all air
God is the fruit on every tree
She is the shade in every made
God is the take in every stake
The peace in every leisure
That is the God in nature
Not the tricksters on spree
…dancing to possessions
…on Satanic bonded magic flawing beautiful traditions
…their souls owned by their follies
…as they act like immortals with their breakable bodies
…killing the most high with crimes extreme

IV
By all means
…worship God
…the real God
Not any hiding in His counterfeit clothes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 21, 2019

BEYOND SAY

There is everything beautiful
…about a seed
…blown harshly from its mother tree
…luckily into the loam of stardom
And fruiting in abundance
…with capabilities of traveling back
…to help transform
…and feed the culture of its mother roots
…to the world
Beyonce has blown us beyond say

II
There is everything loveable
…about the seed forgetting all torture
…the history of hatred
…the choice of vengeance
…and existing differences
To help build her broken roots
Beyonce has blown us beyond say

III
She is now a moon
…travelling the sky with many stars
…on a beautiful road
…blessing all heads in turn
She is like a beautiful nightingale
…who has found the choir of her motherland
…leading as a mistress
And blessing the world with their soothing voices
Oh Beyonce has blown us beyond say!

IV
If all her seeds will toe her line
…and bless their stages with Africa’s fine
No continent will dare to touch the shine
…out of the progress of the stages of Ebonies
If all the stars will look back home
…and build a part to repair the loss
…of their foundations’ so broken loose
…by years of cruelty now smoothening out
None can parraral the growth of Ebonies
…on development stages
We need more Akons
…and many Beyonces
To arch us on
…and take us beyond say

V
For we will rise above our sinking
…and will paddle on our divided thinking
To merge into flourishing
Conquering bitterness
…and intimidation
To bring smiles to our rolling ancestors
…whose mourning still shine
…in our struggling whine
For we’re one and the same people
…scattered to own the world
…by successful replants all over
As time travels
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 20, 2019

LEACHES OF OURSELVES

All that far far call
…from our rich filled hall
…is what causes our fall
…as others stand tall
All the come go quality whores
…which are rooted at our shores
…eating deep into our own talents’ core
…is what is giving us incompetent chores

II
Why a Sikaman boss
…is made a horse
…ridden by disrespect
…paying for familiarity
…knocks the light out of my sun

III
Many on the land
…climb ladders and ladders of knowledge
…reach qualification’s dock
…but like cob webs
…are swept off lists
…and replaced with even nkyɛnkyɛmas from yonder spheres
…because nature’s natural colour difference
…make scraps from afar more attractive
…than prized minerals from near
Sad

IV
We need to plug our senses
…into a wisdom socket
To know where we stand
…and how to band
…in order to put a hand on hand
…to rise from our fall into a stand
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 19, 2019

SUGAR DADDY

Sugar is the home of sweets
And calls many feet
…at a sight

II
It is like a magnetic attraction
It get many eye fame
…leg fences
…hand worships
…and tongue adoration
Though too much of it
…can take stomachs to schools of discomfort
Sugar never lacks ant

III
That is why I laugh like a maniac
Seeing you clinging to that sugar
…already in a bought container
…with a legitimate spoon

IV
By all means lick the outskirts
The lid seems perfectly tight
…and will not let you in
…without a crash
So madam
…your happy harm
…which is a sham
…in your scam
…will definitely turn stray bullet to hit you
…at your sugaring road side
And daddy will not be in a hurry
…to turn surgeon in your save
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 18, 2019

SELF CONFIDENCE

There is nothing beautiful on a being
…like clothes of confidence
…in jewelry of humility
…and shoes of ambition

II
Low confidence in a self
…is poison
…which when left for long
…can kill opportunities
…and dreams

III
There is no human flaw
…without a brandable window
Self doubt is like bile around liver
…it has its responsibilities
…of balancing passions in ambitions
…and pointing to successful yous
…for your learning zooms

IV
So wear it
…your clothes of confidence
Enhance it
…with jewelry of humilty
…add some cologne of smiles
And face each day
…with its attraction
Pulling awesomeness to you
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 17, 2019

FOREIGN SOAPS KILLING LOCAL CONTENT

The fascination of Ghanaians in watching the Mexican, South Korean, and Indian soaps has gone from ridiculous to worry. It is laughable to see a country once colonised, in the process of development, and still bemoaning the loss of most of our cultural values sink so low, aided and abetted by the media which has decided to break instead of make up for our cultural loss. The movie industry is a very powerful tool in every country. It is the tool used to showcase a country’s culture, which include values, morals, language, fashion, beliefs,  beauty, to mention but few. Ghanaians however, have chosen other country’s culture over ours, stifling the Ghana Movie Industry. 

In today’s Ghana, hardly will you get a television station showcasing only one of these soaps, some run as many as four at a time and during prime time too.

The Ghana I grew to know was a place where decency was revered. It was an abomination to see couples kissing in public, married or not, let alone wearing inappropriate clothes in the name of fashion.

Now what do we see? Not only do women copy what they see through these telenovelas exhibiting their follies in the name of love, they also inculcate into their minds the low morals carried by these soaps. Now ridiculous happenings like two sisters fighting over a man, a father and son killing each other because of a woman, people loving their roles as antagonists caring less about what society considers ill, rule. I believe the most dehumanizing aspect is that people sit, with very prominent people who serve as role models to discuss these soaps. And oh the killer; some stations even translate into the local Akan language infusing our cities and locally made products into them in their bid for advertisement. What are we doing to our country? 

Why will a Ghanaian help another Ghanaian to see himself or herself in a white frame? The very frame whose major population considers us inferior? And oh sometimes, the hyperbolic language translations and the pronunciation errors  pollute students whose parents can’t control them because of the fact that the soaps are everywhere. 

I know the media is a huge factor and may not help out in stopping this menace seen as a money making venture for broadcasting corporations, but in putting a stop to this, the cost involved in watching these things online will make it decrease and with time, the generation polluted will fade out. 

I believe this is a national manipulation which fester on the needs of the lonely and fantasies of illiterates. I know some do have moral lessons but their way of living is different from our ways and this further deteriorates the erosion of our culture. Why do we still kick against homosexuality when we allow such movies on our national screens? Do we not know that homosexuality rules in Mexican soaps and sometimes South Korean ones? Some attitudes and way of life are picked from movies, a fact.

It takes a radical and brave hearted to put a stop to something that has already become the norm, but I believe if investors and the government come together to encourage movie makers to come up with series that will not be based on insults and horrific follies, and they come out like Shirley Frimpong Manson’s Adam Apples, Ghanaians will fully embrace and lift our flag higher on the international market. Loving everyone’s but ours is the worst form of slavery. A canker only the media can spearhead to move this nation forward.

THE LEAVES

The leaves walked from Tamale
…to Wamale
Shiiii, zzziiiiii, shiiii, zziiiiii
…like haunting ghosts in humming hymns

II
The leaves walked from Tamale
…to Wamale
…happily crying from tiredness and imprisoned hard labour

III
The leaves living like locusts in loss
…a beautiful sight for angels
…who have forgotten their God’s commandments
Billions of tears are carried in sacks of fears
…watering the grounds for hovering hounds
Suns and rains and harms and drains
…in worker droughts and famine
The leaves walked from Tamale to Wamale
…then Wamale to Tamale
…Sule sees the unending journey
…but keeps working
…knowing closed mouth means hopelessness
…till homegoing
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 14, 2019

THE HORRIBLE WIRING

The trick stands out in our electricity
The harm is boldened
…in our preferred pharmacy
The ligi, with its silent lɔgɔ, shines out
…in our religion
The cat in our education
…only purrs to manipulations
The con in our economy acts star
…on our impoverished stage
The fence in our defence
…has insecured securities
…who allow all our fears easy passes
As the polls in our politics
…use their cables
…to wire them all

II
Why do we keep the whips in our voices
…when our needs are sacked from our choices?
Why do we bark without biting
…when our teeth are made for protection?
Why do we easily empty memories
…when victimizers become bold
…with their every victory?
Why do we act indifferent
…when the axes in our taxes
…continue to chop off our trees of comfort?

III
It is time to tire toes
…of our thumb-sents turned foes
It is time to keep wake
…so none our development coffers rake
We are in the middle of the change we need
…and its devils in pampering
Let’s cut them down
…and battle through to change
To be changemakers
…for our coming young
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 15, 2019

HOW MUCH I LOVED YOU

I stabbed my fears
…and murdered my weaknesses
I suffocated my ambitions
…and poisoned my dreams
…clutching care like fresh eggs
…all to hold your life
That is how much I loved you

II
I climbed arrogance
…with the sword of insistence
I swam in pity
…with hands of determination
I flew in abnormalities
…on rumours of witchcraft
I trained like a soldier
…and buried all tiredness
Just to keep your life
That is how much I loved you!

III
When I thought of the culture
…which called many a vulture
…for your living structure
…because of your ill stature
I smoked weed of defiance
…killing all wicked thoughts around you
…with guns of law
…and emotions of common sense
That is how much I loved you

IV
I never thought
…for a brief day
That you’d be lost
…and I’d stay
I never envisioned
…for a brief second
That you’d be gone
…and I’d be here
I am now like a can
…with fountains of tears
…in bright bright clothes
I’m now like a lost lioness
…in a warrior zone
…without claws
…without teeth

V
Time is burying your memories in dusts of forgetfulness
…but a little air of rememberance
…dusts the pain and hurts clean
…with your giggles echoing sorrows
…in caves of loss
You’ll forever remain my cross of loss!
You’ll forever remain my emotions’ boss!
You’ll forever be that boy at the peak of my love
…one I spared no sweat to dig flutters
…at his sight!
For you made me
…and broke me
…and killed me
…and planted me
Only for me to germinate into newness
…your absence living in my roots
…never to part
…never ever to be forgotten
Aduse-Poku Ahwinie!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 14, 2019
In memory of my Kwadjo Opoku (Sept. 5, 2011 – Dec. 10, 2018)

HIGH HUSTLE

Harriet has heaped hits
…from her husband
…into houses of hurts
Her hostile home
…humming hopelessness
…in her haunted hawking heart

II
How hollow is her hugless heart?
How harmed is her hustling head?
Holler Harriet to hail her hobbles
…to let us heckle her horrible husband
…who has hijacked her happiness and is
…howling hysterically like a hurricanic horse

III
Hurts are no heritage
There is hired help
…in here’s honour harvest
…today
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 13, 2019

IF YOU MISS A NEEDED HIT…

She says “shush”
…when her side swerves
…the best’s serve
And claims a marked miss
…after her heart sinks in defeat

II
He hisses a diss
…if his target bounces to another
…in an obvious miss
Eyes see the shudder
…but only an insensitive chameleon
…hits hard a hurt in loss

III
It is a murderous fountain
…of tears
…from soul to spirit and shielded body
…in a cycle of time’s bridal walk
…when you miss a hit
It is a painful spat of insults
…from a doomed hurt place
…like an unfair cane sore in a salty rain
…when you hit a miss

IV
If you hunt a game
…and end with empty hands
…you surely pamper your ego
…with “stinky animal!”
But you know
…and I know
They know
…the burning po po po pos
…gunning your heart
…in echoes of disappointment
…shaming you in a merry go round
…of loss in a mourning cave
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 12, 2019

MIND FARMS

The mind is a fertile land
…in the head of every being
Plant weeds of hurts
…and reap seeds of hatred
…with its shadow of cruelty
…and spirit of harm
Plant loving flowers with caring fragrance
…and harvest nectar of faith
…scent of love
…beauty of tenderness
…colours of trust
…thorns of care
…providing fences for your safety

II
The mind is a most fertile land
Plant seeds of hurts
…and like false yams
…harvest a drum full of hatred
…with roots that never really die out
Plant seeds of love
…and harvest a drum full in return
Birds of circulation peck on each
…buying for you hatred
…or love in others

III
Like a skilled farmer
…looking forward to a bountiful harvest
…which will feed nations
Have the tool of care
…in selecting seeds for planting
…in the farm of all minds
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 11, 2019

GOD FOR TRIAL

You’re a God
…lost in gods
…now living in huge mansions
…looking down on the poor

II
You’re a God
…lost in waters
…turned clouds
…which only fall on roofs of the wealthy

III
You’re a God
…lost in soil
…gifting your fertility to hostile harems of cheats
…shaming the good

IV
You’re a God
…who has lost his songs
…in tongues of the innocent
…leaving the noise of deceit to roam wild

V
You’re a God
…who has lost his sword for the wicked
…and replaced it with a sword
…aiming at the pious
…your wind slapping goodness at your order

VI
You’re a God with blames
…from atrocious lies to sad sad cries
…ha, desecrating duping to unfair deaths

VII
You’re a God whose conscience needs a trial
Your love needing a revival
For your mirrors lie in lies
Framing your monstrosity as mercy
…making your loyals fall from royals
…into robes of servants
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 10, 2019

IF I WANTED

If I wanted your game
I would have more than that
…in less than the sweat of your hunt
If I wanted your game
…the game you so vilely parade
…trying so hard to cover the charade
…with my taunting,
I would never break so much as a sweat
…in fencing me with many
…better in parade
So hide your hideous finger
…wearing your tight finger cuffs

II
I know of your broken bed
…and your feelings’ death
I see the cracks on your mouth
…from the bad conversations gone south
I know the drought in your pocket
…because of the glutton in your socket
I know the fear in your heart
…because of the pressure from your prize
Interesting how great beads
…silently grace noble waists
…as those made by Chinese children in experimentation
…call even the dead
…to witness their walk taking
So be modest in flashing your finger cuffs

III
Like vultures without houses
…beaten by telling rains
Your problems are tattoed in your meanness
So cry out
…for once cry out and free your soul
…from the dark it hides
…pulling walls to shade the bright
…walls which annoy even angels sent to work solo
…on this twisted earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 9, 2019

WHEN YOUR BILLY TURNS SILLY

Your hop
…from down to top
Scratching itches in ditches
…pounding needs of hungry beads
…forcing paths in innocent deserts
Leaving no skirt towns
…trouser cities
…knicker corners
…and even jumpsuit capitals
…unexplored
Is a piling crime which will definitely meet
…its regret cop
…in a troubled future

II
You pick the best gems and flush
…them down ghostly gutters
You get angels and pump them with demonic hurts
…always soiling the pious into a coiling
I hope you know time’s footsteps are without
…remote control?

III
You are like a room full of grains that
…wandering peacocks come to peck
……and leave like wind carried leaves
…even those like Mahama’s Guinea fowls
……who swallowed millions
……and embarked on a one way flight to Burkina
…….have pieces of you
To your thankful thrills

IV
There will come a time
…your horn trap will only stop chaff
You’ll then wish time had a turning-back steering
But that lateness in your future
…is a bond you’re signing now
…with your wasteful chase
…and irresponsible craze
And that future will be when your Billy will turns silly
…even in your own remembering
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 8, 2019

GET THIS STRAIGHT

Goat
…get green grass to graze
…to get grace in your growth
Be no bird bedder
…begging births to bird your goat

II
You’re a goat
…whose wishes and gloat
…won’t grow you wings
You might see no wisdom
…walking in this caution
But be sure not to act like the cat
…which got caught in a bird moment
…and jumped from a tall mountain
…as its company-bird flew
…forgetting it had no wings
…and water was an enemy to its ears
It still hurts remembering how the waiting water swallowed it up
What about the sheep which also jumped in same situation
…and got shredded by fingers of the earth?

III
If there are sane ships in your ears
…let them paddle on to the thinking town of your head
…to deliberate on self care
…and work on the importance of this advice
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 7, 2019

THE CHAMBER DANGER (To our abled politicians)

None gives gold to a poor handler of silver
…just as none gifts a house
…to a poor handler of a hut so treasured
Are we over-blooded
…to have our little red rivers
…sucked from our pride and hope?
Definitely not!
This chamber will pose a danger
…which will call for a rememberance
…only worth anger!

II
We know your ears close
…when your mandate mate
…in a date
…promising high rate
…of your working state

II(b)
But acknowledge the many living in gutters
… Note the many living in ‘lavender’ that dignity shatters
… Know the many whose nights are spent
…in air spaces reserved for mosquitoes
… Don’t close your eyes to the many struggling
…under hot suns and murderous rains
Forget not those unfortunate thumbs
…lighted the fire of the power
…which makes you tower
…ferociously threatening in aim of our cowering

III
The voice of the people must push your choices
…and not a reverse
Servants serve their masters
…even if a nation makes them stars
…in revered skies

III(b)
The voices for elephants
…stand by voices for umbrellas
…with voices of coconuts
…with its significantly struggling others
In a NO you know should glow
So what is this deviance in your swear-in allegiance?

IV
Clear your mess
…or face a curse
We’re not twine you can roll
…around your fingers anytime your comforts
…itch for scratches
Don’t act kokuram
…germinating on noses
…thinking we’re too shy or too timid
…to battle with asaawa
Ears were made together with eyes
…and a working mind
…for the wise to use in productivity
…where caution and dicey issues wake
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 6, 2019

WHEN YOUR TATTERS CHATTER

You’re now new
…selected from few
…enjoying your mew
…as you, others chew
Oh, Today’s-Hot-Cake, change your view
For every dawn comes with its dew

II
If you think I lie
…ask the seamstresses
…about the beautiful clothes they made
…for their classy clients
…a decade past
You’ll know, the best turned rags
…because love took their shine
…their colour
…their beauty
…through their duty

III
Even goats now step on them
…in careless bleats
…as the dumpster awaits their rot
The new and loved today
…also doomed in the tatter cycle
So go on and blah blah
…your needed for another’s hated
…your comfort for another’s troubles
Karma’s hammer is a perfectionist
…so flawless
…in its carpentry time
…it will perfectly nail you on the cross of loss
When your tatters finally chatter
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 6, 2019

IN THE PROSECUTION BOX

I have reached this spot
…where my conscience fills a scrutiny pot
…as my head makes it hot
…in the prosecution box

II
It is all because of you
You who are like air I breathe in
…but can’t hold down
You who are like smoke that tears me up
…but can’t be embraced into reality
You who makes lots of emotional noise
…like a swift mosquito
…that always escapes a caught
It is all because of you
…yes you!

III
Why haven’t you shown up?
…Even as the clock ticks
…in announcing my womb’s closure
…and the end of coupling leisure
Why haven’t you shown up?
…Even as my needs roast into frustration
…and wrinkles haunt for an affliction
Why haven’t you shown up, you?
…Yes, you!

III
Where are you?
Are you hidden beneath my pride’s ride?
…Buried beneath the beasts of my expectations?
…Hidden in the parcel of my paranoia?
…Locked in the coffin of my peer pressure?
…Tied in the bus of my unlooking?
Have you been blocked
…behind the fence of my self defence?
…Locked away in the prison of my fears?
…Or gathering dust in the store room of my immaturity?

IV
Wherever you are
…try breaking through to this dunce
…who feels the whips of your absense
…but still stirs through the pot of nonsense
…on societal fires
…thinking her sense there dwells
Jump down, or hop up
…break out or break in
And arrest her heart
Until your reality dawns
…for she is a lost puppy
…searching for her happy
…in the smelly nappy
…of many foul judgements
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 5, 2019

GOLD BETWEEN MY THIGHS

There is gold between my thighs
…gold I will hold until I’m told of its shine
…by a giggling sun
There is gold between my thighs
…gold I won’t have sold to the cold to mould
…into having me poled in penury
There is gold between my thighs
…gold…

II
I will refine this gold with learning
…lighting the fire of knowledge to turn its colour bold
I will shape this gold with tools of patience
…and hard work
Until I learn to use it
…for the product of my fancy
It could be a chain
…to proudly adorn societal neck
…till all teeth get decked out in pride
It could be a watch
…to confidently tell the world how time walks
It could be a crown
…to be bowed to
…in honour and love
It could be handcuffs
…to arrest all follies in my bright corner
…pathing safety for incoming generations
It could be an armour
…to protect my nation
…from all that may mar its sovereignty
It could be a sword
…to kill off illiteracy
…raising the flag of wisdom in valour
It could be a pen
…to be an accomplished soldier in great books
It could just be a ring
…to begin a smile to birth greatness and happiness
There is gold between my thighs
…gold…

III
I am in no hurry to burn it black
… I am in no haste to waste its shine
I will swerve the bug of curiosity
…until I get to the city of maturity
Working on its shine nights after days through to dawns
Until it is ready
…to dine with the sun
Yes, until it is ready to dine with the sun
…this gold…
…this gold between my thighs
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July, 4, 2019
Inspired by Dr. Mrs. Georgina Oduro’s study titled “Gold Between My Thighs”. Dedicated to all girls around the world. There is a beautiful world out there, just work hard to blend the beauty of womanhood with respect leading to happiness.

BUS PREACHER

I don’t know the trick
…in your bus stage acting
Well, that is what this looks to me

II
I don’t know the import
…of your killer-eardrums-shouting
It is oh so a turn off
…selling headaches to many with hurdleaches

III
I don’t know the style of your hygiene
…your arm’s pit has a unique stench
…which is nose wrenching
Do we need to talk about the mouth
…whose spittle shower many
…who the fear of your God cower
…into shut ups?
Maybe not

IV
Please buy some sense from your knowledge book
Acting suntidua through a disgust
…on “anti-Christs” like me
…surely takes us
…to no roundabout of repentence
We don’t need a voice whip
…in this enclosed space
…where even a whisper echoes in multiplicity
Preaching should be like a soothing balm
…or a tutoring pointer
Not a wɔ-wo-kɔn-akyi-kɔ- tipae-mu

V
And oh, the call for offertory
…do it tactfully
…with less manipulation
We know it will all go to nourish you
…for selling us seen and unseen sicknesses
And “blessing” our noses with your fine perfume
You aim to preach and not to leach Mr. Preacher
…that is what you need to learn
…from your Biblical teacher
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©July 3, 2019

HEARTS FOR YOU

Get into hearts
…if you need to be in most chats
…as all hats
…fall for your congratulatory back pats

II
Do not hire a bulldozing force
…to break into hearts
…they’ll die before one of your big toes feels their lands
Do not use wool of pretence to cover your wolfness
…because of fame cravings
…to get into fences of hearts
No wolf survives a sheep filled fence
…for long
…embarrassment and or death, get them each time
Do not use a hammer of pity
…to break into hearts
…their locks once broken
…never get fixed by the breaker
…they will push you down
…at the slightest wind
Do not use a feeble lather of backbiting and lies
…to climb into people’s hearts
…creaks of truth will always oust you out

III
There are hearts for all
…hearts for wolves
…hearts for cats
…hearts for dogs
…hearts for frogs
…hearts for fishes
…hearts for lions
…hearts for ants
…hearts for snakes
…hearts for worms
…hearts for lizards
…hearts for goats
…hearts for sheep
…hearts for pigs
…hearts for eagles
…hearts for fowls
…hearts for vultures
…hearts for even cows and elephants
All you need to be is you
…at your best
…to open the hearts meant for you
…and move into them without breaking a sweat

IV
The best kind of heart ownership
…is that one where you get to wear yourself
…no matter your jurisdiction
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 2, 2019

BE RADICAL

Let
…let white supremacists sleep white
…wake black
…with their white winnership in mind
And let their mirrors tell them
…tell them about the change

II
Let
…let black stooges sleep with their black begging-pillows
And wake white
…with their marked hunt in mind
…only to be told by their mirrors
…of the change
…at the brink of stepping out

III
Let
…let these two meet
Each seeing what they treasure on another
…and what they fear in their announcing minds

IV
And let them view them
…let them feel their own heartbeats
…let them beg themselves to settle
Let them cry out loud to sorries
Let them tear up for each other on each other
So this label coloring will end
…end for real living to begin
…in co-habitation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 1, 2019