PRAYERS ON GODS

We are where we are
Because long ago, guardian spirits went to visit the Gods
…on our behalf
…and came back to a locked door
…with alien chants at their hunt

Ib
Fearing demons had besieged their people
…they called on the Gods to save the people
…but the people called the Gods Satan
…and named the guardian spirits
…devils
Banishing them to the nearby forest
…and naming the protective forest “evil”
…the Gods capital initial demoted
…like a faulted soldier
…to a common
Human spirits gathering at their chase
…with hooting claps
…and deafening curses of prayers

II
The waters they protected
…were soiled with litter
…until aliens who had seen their glitter
…mined their piety
The freedom they gave
…soon deminished
…but the people were dedicated
…their prayers intensifying
…like the Job they’d been told of
…whose severe suffering gave way to happy ending

IIb
Soon –
…the people were hunted like antelopes and dears
…and bundled to strange lands
…some of their very own trained to be architects of their woes
But they still prayed

III
They were made to curse their ancestors
…and were preached to be non-resistors
They were made to curse their birthright
…and were made to see all of theirs as not-right
They were made to bow to nothings
…and were scarred to live like nothings
Their lasses branded crass asses
…needed for short relief
…and thrown into grief
They still prayed
…and proceeded to evict the gods from the evil forest
…caring not about their dwelling
As the new masters
…mastered the art of drinking their libations
…and killing many many many of them
…on the ticket of their laws
The people still prayed
…unfazed

IV
Now the gods are gone with their great spirits
…to Odomankomah knows where
As the people still stand on poor stages
…dancing to small gifts
…entertaining bigwigs
Their egos pounded with their pride
…and fed to dogs who act soldiers
…in their check
Yet the prayers intensify
…each day
There is no awakening
…that they murder their gods
…with alien incantations
…which has deluded them into thinking
…shouting prayers are all the hardwork needed
…for one’s own success

V
As selected few are fed on greed pans
Work for self growth
…sit lean by roadsides
…seen by visitors
…unseen by the people
As poverty carts them through paths
…and streets
…right to the highways

Vb
They still pray
…they still turn their ‘awakened’ evils
…and sit by as they are hunted and killed
…their deaths celebrated
As their prayers thank in ironic magnanimity

VI
Prayers still fill the land
…deafening poor ears whose fear
…push them under beds of discomfort
Yet only the burns in the sun intensify
…only the drowning of the rains visit
The air acts gentle
…but spreads unknown illnesses in vengeance
None sees the wrong of the gods
…none wants to notice the sadness of the spirits
As prayers pile on prayers
…in the belief of the murders of the protectors turned devils
…as years pile on years after years
Such a sorry story!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 18, 2019

LECTURERS, NOT GODS

Ia
Like staircases
…they carry hearts with minds
…to the rooms of self realization:
Lecturers
Poor staircases make climbers dizzy
…and pose the danger of caving in
…killing the climbed
…bruising their grounds

Ib
Lecturers are neither gods nor lions
…who order and bellow
Feeling like the only keys to bright Zions
Any –
…swimming in the gods description
…is an ignorant bomb
…on the road of knowledge

II
Lecturers are not bosses
…sowing seeds of dream losses
…in students
…to turn dragons into horses
…to run their wish chores

III
Lecturers are security men
…who open gates of expert knowledge
…for their followers to explore
As they act shapers
…instead of whippers

IV
Lecturers are like flowing rivers
…their waters of thinking must flow
…with their subjects’
…to let them know the good and bad paths
…of their own thoughts

V
Lecturers are challenge embracers
…freedom enhancers
…boldness planters
…fairness operators
…with democratic hearts
Their respect farmed by their deeds and honourability
…in the hearts of their audience
Not those with egoistic wings
…flying in ignorance and shabby lecturing
…insisting on their follies as fairness
Blocking their own sanity with their prejudices
Lecturers hold no marks as guns to threaten the lives of the passed
While chasing unreachable dreams
…neglecting their duties
…and using flimsy excuses as their alibis

VI
So put on them fair supervision
Check their wrecks so they can clean their specs
…put them on their toes
To do as they must
So as to kill the growing gross gods
…weeding their effectiveness
…before their subjects
…with lazy hoes
Do so,
That questioners
…challengers
…fiesty developers
Can go through the road of education
…without tasting death of strong will into graves of subserviency
For that is the yearning of development
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 17, 2019

SWEAT BEFORE SHINE

4
Claps rap to trap warm wraps
…for your presence
…a celebration for your living
…at your every appearance
Many going miles to grow suns
…on your face
Your mood being the hood
…of all seeing your good
Slaps checking out craps walking
…in maps of your enemies
Yes, you’re the sun at its peak
…being tapped by loved ones
…burning your foes

3
Your works act magnet
…to trap eyes for your viewing
…giving words to mouths
…for your praise
…giving awe to ears
…in itch for your mention
Planting covetousness in the insecure

2
Your struggles strangle your climbing angle
Your sweats staining their thirsty pores
Your needs seen as walking bothers
…to close hands with wealth
Some onlookers using you
…as a comic relief on stages of ridicule

1
Your idea screaming in your dreaming
Your fear holding the reigns of your determination
Most confidants wetting blankets
…few urging a market

0
It works not that way
It never starts from the shine
…to end with the struggle
When that happens
…it is an odd falling
So start from 0 and normally end at 4
For that is the climb of the hardworking:
…sweat before shine, from scratch to most
…to dig the boast to call the toast
For it is a climb
…not a slide: This life
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 16, 2019

THE PERFECT GARDEN

It looks surreal
The bright colours
…of the flowers
…and beautiful butterflies
…are oh so real
From afar
…planting jealousies
…until eyes travel close

II
There are visible spiders
…hitherto unseen
Waiting to hunt the dancing butterflies
…which also busily steal
…the priced nectar of the flowers
Alien birds hide within
…pecking on the flowers
Air blows its seeds onto distant lands
As worms chew on its strong roots

IIb
Hawks hide to hunt wise chickens
…pecking the worms beneath
Wandering cattle disturb its flowing rivers
…stepping on fingers to break promising hands
…working on weeds
…watering the flowers
…and advocating for the use of the dung of the intruding cattle
…to enrich the land they are destroying
As age waits to tell on the failures of the wilting flowers

III
So yes
…it is a flower garden at its full bloom
…beautiful from afar
…horrible and fearful from within
…and in close watch
Such a sad state of fate it tastes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 15, 2019

TAKE ME TO YOUR HEART

Bags are packed
…with clothes of patience
…undies of curiosity
…shoes of excitement
…armour of compromise
Waiting for your cue
…to board the vehicle leading
…to the airport
…for the begining of our journey to your heart

II
I am ready to embark
…even if a dog with rabies searches through a scare bark
I am ready to be deafened by your take off
…dizzy with the sky bumps
…taste flight fear of hurdles
Even the fear of a crash won’t trash the flush of my crush
So hurry
…take me to the land of your heart

III
I need to explore all the caves
…visit your beautiful waterfalls
…and know their sources
I need to know every part of your hidden forest
…to know the most dangerous
…the mildest
…the scarred
…and vulnerable attitudinal pets
…and their needs
So I can prepare their feeds
…should they visit us in physical

IV
I need to go to wish land of your heart
…to study every detail
…in order to plan them perfectly
For I want to spare no strength
…in working smiles to shine the sky of your face
…and moons of satisfaction
…to light your face in the dark
…to lead my happy tours

V
I need to know your empty space
…to fill them with flutters
I also need to know your shattered parts
…to fix them with positive flattery
I have the perfect glue of admiration
…to stitch all torn parts
So take me
…take me to the land of your heart

VI
If you’re comfortable
…you can sail with me
…to visit your spirit
…and your soul
…to explore your fears
…on the boat of trust
Of course, mine is there for your exploration
…anytime
…any day

VII
Just know,
…once we decide
…I’ll never let go
…until the spear of death splits
That is how far my thoughts have traveled
So let’s do this
…take a leap
…through hard work
…to blend our hearts
…into a companionable new nation of one
…one that only the knife of death
…can split
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 14, 2019

FEAR STAINED

Our yearning calls for explorations pelagic
As fear hangs surrealism on a wagic
…stick while we hope for magic
…fearing we’ll turn tragic
So we pray for magic to fix the tragic and dispose of the wagic
When the inevitable swoops like a hawk
Always asking why we can’t freeze
…the now into a static

II
The feelings we’ve so easily gained
…are fear stained
The wings we’ve so blessedly grown
…face fears of being destructively blown
We’re like kites flying a star-like sky
…eyes watching out for our lie
…through a bye
…as we fly
Why is the hope of a never ending die
…cast on a maybe?

III
The world gets darker with every day
Foods eaten in one life bowl now turning a sharing
…a little taste in this
…a little taste in that
Still, a tasting never ceases
…until we lose our taste
…reaching threats of frets-
…then regrets

IV
Let’s not lose it
…our present pure possibilities
…to the fury of a flawed future through today’s fears
For everything life
…everything in life
…everything around life
…everything beneath life
…everything above life
Is fear stained
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 13, 2019

ACCUSATIONS

Check the neck you peck to wreck
…with your beaky specks
…you sheck looking like a steck
…needing a wash in a beck

II
Throw the stone
…if the mistake bone
…is not a clone
…inherited by every gene
…from the first homo sapien

III
Abuse the accused with the excuse of fallible confusion
But know fallibility is a huge tree
…shedding leaves to fertilize the soul of every being

IIIb
There are those caged in lies
…with rage unstaged
Judged by crooked sages
So break no bones of will
…with the whip of your tongue

IV
We trip to be experience equipped
…we’re stripped to notably dipped in remorse
…or thrive on in shameful stubbornness
So why not throw second chance cards
…in multiplicity
…to help save the drowning
…whose mistakes are visible
…compared to yours under your skirts
…and trousers?
This life swirls round and round and round
…with trying times
…which can bring out the worst
…when we’re put to the test
So let care drive your judgement
…on others’ mistake routes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 13, 2019

KƆNTUA

A twisted tale stales history
Fuelling the dreadful victory
…of a storyless country

II
A passionate need for relevance
…fruits no reverence
…even eloquence can smoothen not that arrogance

III
For hard earned glories
…bubble into no sorries
…no matter the lorries
…of lies driven on the stories

IV
In competitions
…the first is named in repetitions
Even in foul play renditions
…of submissions

V
Let us be not like hawks
…catching success chicks
…of hens whose struggles still provide
…for a whole household

VI
We’re not kɔntua
For ropes of deceit to lift us
…from the success story of a martyr
…to the lies in a mirroring satire

VII
Honour is the birthright of the accomplished
…not strugglers who perished in a race
They who have ears…
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 5, 2019

Edited by Koku Dotse.

LET’S TURN SAVAGES

We have been on this battlefield
…for too long
Enduring torture through fears
…and hurts and pain
…tasting shameful bites of sand
Today let’s turn savages

II
Stone down your doubts
…as David stoned down Goliath
…and walk into the gate of confidence
…for a fresh bath of your spirit
…and a fill of can-do
In all your endeavors

III
Get your knife
…and stab your debts
…twisting it to totally destroy its internal
…until it breathes its last
And becomes fertilizer for your growth

IV
Get your pistol
…and gun down your past
…which has arrested your future
…through cuffs of present opinions
And walk straight to the station of relief
…to clear yourself of all guilt

V
Get your bomb of strength
…and blast off the chains of your enslavement
…walking into the street of freedom
…with hopeful feet
…and a determined spirit
…to start the growth of yourself

VI
Kill all your enemies of progress
It is only this savagery
That will water progress
…and fertilize your image
…to grow in happiness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 11, 2019

AUTOMATIC SCANNERS

They move
They move like automatic scanners
…to register the front
…and especially the back
No matter the hard hitting bricks
…that prick their dicks
…to prompt a trick
They can’t help it
Such is their wiring

II
Let the goddess of beauty be in arms
…a demonic spirit
…dressed in dying plantain leaves
…in passing
…will get the quick scan
…blanking seconds into minutes off their time

III
Let the queen of love be on laps
A shaking behind will get the look
Even if there are known awaited slaps
There is no fear in the look book
Such is the wiring of predators

IV
Perhaps, Odomankomah might have made them
…automatic documentors of our kind
Checking the front and measuring the behind
Mostly thinking so loud about their lustful grind
…and sometimes doubting the artistry
…of the Most High

V
So look when muscles ring in walks
Enjoy when chiseled-sticks bell their fronts
Take pictures of the best of them
…to build your fantasies
…instead of fighting a lost battle
For those eyes are trained helpless
…to check out all curves and mounds
…shapes and sizes
Whenever and wherever they see warm
…and pliable beings
Yes, such is the wiring
…of eyes of men
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 10, 2019

I AM ERICA

I Am Erica
Snow blissed but cold hissed
…divided into different earth in the nick of an unpick

II
I Am Erica
Wearing fate of hate
…in an own turning alien bait
After greedy passersby
…uprooted other rooted
…into savage replants
…knowing not I am compatible
…with their fertility
Time is belling the shift of ownership
…in the ears of their unrested spirits

III
I Am Erica
A woman who has married many a ruling man
…but yet to taste the touch of a woman
Although fem-fem is now norm
…in my various dorms

IV
I Am Erica
Now ridden by a bully bull
…whose fingers walk the world in folly
…with negligence overriding their intelligence
As frightened hair stare from a Korean candy head

V
I Am Erica
A divisive diversity cut into many voices
Those with power swallowing
…those with less or none

VI
I Am Erica
I have long tasted supremacy
My head-swelling, fushing down like liberated air
…from a high handed baloon
As Chin Chuns now battle me fair and square

VIII
I Am Erica
My reverence waning with my aging
…like tooth after tooth falling out of the lions mouth
…with every turning of years
My sneezing affecting less and less
…of my subjects
…who used to catch cold at my sniffling

IX
I Am Erica
Owned by a dying skin
…owning a rising skin
What will be the fate of my states
…in fair rates
…on future plates?

X
I Am Erica
Guns at my beck and call
…bombs on my trail
…drugs burning my reasoning
…into avoidable shootings
Boosting careers in imprisonment

XI
I Am Erica
The ever greatest!
The ever beautiful!
The ever magnanimous!
Ever the Knightess
With cancerous intestines
…threatening a tell on my body
…with every second time travels
I still wear awesome
…in eyes of many?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 9, 2019

TRAUMA

Trauma is like stroke
It strikes at once
…but heals
…if it will
…like a star famished conceited bride walking down the aisle
Hanging breaths with the rope of anxiety

II
A brush of hardwork
A clash of fear
A rush of impatience
A flush of hope
A gush of anticipation
A hush of pessimism
A push of will
…are all options served
…with multiplicity of choices
When trauma is on the seat of a body

III
For it sits not only on the body
…but footmats the spirit
…and spits on the soul
Writing on their visible boards
…fright of the unknown

IV
An overcomer climbs to gain its worship
…and is awarded with a badge of strength
An overcome turns sheep
…hanged and dragged to the abattoir of failure
…beheaded by a knife of shame
…as pity watches with happy enemies

V
Varied traumatic hits
…with its varied wins
…create a fearsome spirit
…and a soul worthy of reverence
So know the foe
…called trauma
…and fight it squarely
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 8, 2019

SAND IN EYES

Sometimes truth lies in deep forests of lies
…calling great hunters
…for their find
Praying voices of lions of deception
…scare not rightful hands
…in their fetch

II
Sometimes truth hovers
…around lies like a bothersome fly
…wishing to be seen or heard
…but mostly drown in power frowns
As raindrops drown in rivers

III
Sometimes truth sits and stares
…daring the fair in a sensitive chair
Flanked by fears so ferocious
…with bullets in hands of bullies
Causing eyes to concoct lies
…in their cover

IV
It is sad that in my realm
…truth mostly walks its talks
…preceeded by whirlwinds of lies
…which throw sands in eyes
…blinding
Making lies our focus
…as truth loses its identity
…in total blindness
This is our sadness in madness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 7, 2019

AN INKY WARRIOR AT REST (For Toni Morrison)

When a big tree with strong branches
…and healthy leaves
falls
The earth shakes in fear and sadness
…not because of the weight and bruise
But in mourning for the many beaks
…the many mouths
…the many buttocks
Who have been stripped off their benefactor
…with all her healing touches
The more we wail
…the clearer our reason of loss
Damirifa due Maame Morrison!

II
As we mourn your loss
…we know your horn of felicitations blow wild in the yonder world
…leading your martyred spirit back home
…birthing your immortal soul here
…here- where blacks lack less because of your crack
…on unreasonable reasoning so dark
To reach parked consciences
…backed into dark quarters of humanity
Ayekoo our Dear Dear Blessed Beloved
…turned Saint in love

III
When humanity suffered a coma
…and blacks suffered the trauma
…of the inhumane hammer
…nailing them onto woods of animals
Pairing prized ebonies with monkeys
…making them donkeys
…and locking them in murderous rooms of slavery
…with no known keys
You were one great manna
…which fell amidst the non-empathetic hunger struggle
…and told the world with words
…which painted clearer pictures than colours
…of the poison of cruelty
…dressed in slavery
…overlooked by supremacists
…as it consumed souls with its gluttony

IV
You’re one of the topmost Iron ladies
…who wielded a real sword
…in ink
You’ll forever be that beautiful brain
…who fought on the field of slavery
…and conquered more soldiers of hate
…than many pious soldiers with great ammunition could
Only with your words

V
Goddess of literacy!
Sun of fairness!
Moon of clearer perspectives!
Ɔbaa brane a wo fata nsamerane!
The woman with More Reason well parcelled as Morrison
Get your pampered rest
…as we continue your noble quest
You did do more than your best
…and deserve a fulfilling crest
…worthier than your imagination could fetch

VI
Nnaase o!
Akpe o!
Oyiwaladɔɔn for the eighty eight years of living which will last through all lifetimes!
Thank you warrior extraordinaire!
For all you were
For all you’ve been
For all you achieved
For all your wealth of knowledge
…which will protect humanity for all lifetimes
Damirifa due
…due due ne amanehunu!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 6, 2019
In honour of Toni Morrison (February 18, 1931 – August 5, 2019)

Photo Credit: Google Pics

IF YOU WANT ME

There are many shiny glasses
…showing me in cool classes
Acting editors of my reality
Ably aided by clothes of my smiles
But be not fooled

II
I am a garden
…a garden with varying tenders
…who left dents
…which their followers rent to further dent
…and soon register their can’ts
…leaving close watchers with swearing shan’ts

IIIa
My seed of trust has been brutally butchered
…like the meat of a ruthless butcher
…working in a tight deadline
…killing its germination prowess

IIIb
The new shoot of my care
…was chewed by an ungrateful goat
…which strayed in
…when my fence of defence was broken down
…by a mischievous bull

IIIc
The maize of tenderness
…which grew to a level
…has been pushed down by mean winds
…its roots almost destroyed
…by a murderous rain
Leaving it gasping for breath

IIId
The tree of my love
…has not fruited
…since vultures developed taste for them
…and feasted till all leaves and flowers
…were completely chewed
When they wanted to upgrade
…from scavenging
Should I mention the many farmers
…who cut deep its vital branches
…in the name of parcelled greed called pruning?
Funny, they complained of me not providing shade
…afterwards

IV
So unless you’re a skilled farmer
…do not attempt my venture
For bees of bitterness have built their homes
…at all the comfort zones
…barely providing honey
…and feeding on even legs
…who just pass by

IVb
You’ll have to be a rainmaker
…a sun moderator
…and an air host
To be able to recover anything
…from my farm
The only side to my attraction
…is the fertile land
…covered by all the destruction of thorns
…with the hovering beastly bees
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 6, 2019

TASTE A SINGLE 30

Immaturity is poison
…to reason
Inexperience is an axe
…which cuts the tree called Relax
…forcing a fretting failing tax
So greens must grow their buds into queens
…to up their knowledge genes
…in order to clear their eyes to see
…differences between noble frees
…and unworthy fleas
…in the garden of choice
After training their hearts to walk side by side
…with their heads

II
Every woman must taste a single 30
…with a notable accomplishment
…blowing a rating indicating a standard
…before approach

III
Every woman must taste a single 30
…with a worthy aura
This is the sphere where
…she wears the skin of a boss
…throwing many in worded loss
…at the thought of her approach
She has no rush
…even as chasers run
…like best athletes onto her compound
…clashing in crushing
…with different approaches and reactions
…acting comedy on her free screen

III
Her only problem will be daydreaming
…in perfect scenes
…as to the where and when and how
…her knight will grace her night
…in a perfect rite
Because even in lonely haunts, seeds can be bought
…or gotten in free lots
…from the best of choices
…if she chooses to plant in a sole proprietary farming
She sleeps when she wants
…wakes when she wants
…eats what she wants
…buys whatever she likes
…with no one demanding a proposal
…for every detail
Oh just taste a single 30
…in self accomplished womanity

IV
This is where she drives her independence
…like a V8
…attracting jealousies masked in many shades
…without a care
…knowing they have no warrant to cause her arrest
…as she drives on the road of peace
…glowing tastefully as wine does with age
As she receives applications

V
She needs to see the tears from some eyes
…whose knees bend in a begging
She needs to watch as some mouths
…congratulate themselves
…after their ears hear their shaky proposals
…to her
She needs to see the intimidated
…fidgeting to draw a plan
…to her understand
She needs to see the lowest souls
…set traps
…to her attention catch
The jokers will of course
…play the sun setting card
…in hope of arresting her with self pity
…and fear of loneliness
But her perceptiveness sees through the end
…of their plans
The bitter will bring on the bitch card
But the ditches such bitches fall into
…include the peaceful riches that stitch
…their itches into dream-like wishes
Trust me –
…every woman must taste a single 30

VI
Every woman must taste this single 30
…lying on a bed of comfort
…bathing in a tub of freedom
…dining at the table of open mindedness
Her sparkling enchantment
…affording her a bite of appealing fruits
…without a charge of commitment
…with fantastic expectations
While watching the Pick Me channel
If she likes
…she can even choose a toy
…as cast in her hobby play

VII
It is the best gift of nature
…to a flower at its blooming apex
For her nectar is sweetest
…and well filled
…and oh so protected
…but well scented
And needs nothing less than the best bird
…for its partnering harvest
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 5, 2019

THE HELL FIRES OF RELIGION

There was a lamp
…which was made to stamp
…the moral directions of man
It worked well under a ban

II
This lamp gained roots
…after tasting negative boots
And upgraded into electricity
…seeking to brighten many a city
…but now sells them pity
…through flawed supremacentric equity

III
It drains, from heads, waters of discernment
…by twisting the initial commandments
Leaving beneficiaries lost
…at their own cost

IIIb
It turns its shine off in dark sins
…giving some followers bold bins
…of shamelessness even when day wakes
…celebrating with extravagant cakes
…bought from the sweats they rake
…off the naive who believe the road to take
…has shines they keep
…under their dubious beep

IV
Now they have hidden the right poles
And are murdering tiring soles
…which trip on stones
…and break their bones
…of piety
…knowing not their light workers have turned many a deity
Using high voltage
…to their own advantage

V
Their dum has given wings to immorality
…which dresses like morality
And parades in the day
…arresting those with something to say
…with spiritual fears
…and sometimes traditional spears
…hidden in their covered rears

VI
How boldness has climbed a tree
…in all that horrendous be
Beats my imagination
Today, Mathew marks John to kill
…as Luke looks on
Today Joshua judges Ruth
…at Ho sees to Haba cook

VII
A day will come
Hate will be the Psalm
Due will be thrown into an enemy
Gen will walk with nemesis
Jee will sue in stress
And Mo will harm through meds

VIIb
A day will come
Lamentations will lead to revelations of doom
…and water the land
…through the very light with wires believed
…to lead straight to a being
…beyond the sky
If mouths continuously close
…to its electrocution of greed
…and barbaric need of opposing their appointer
…in the guise of His clothes

VIIc
A day will come
…the little left commune vinculum in humanity
…will be broken
…none will be spared the burn
…in the hell fires of religion
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 4, 2019

WHEN A TRACTOR KNOCKS OUT YOUR FACTOR

Sometimes there are many winds
…that pluck all our leaves of confidence
…break the branches of our support
…and leave us empty of pride
At the centre stage of the sun

II
Sometimes
…things that hit us
…can take the sound
…out of the throat of a singer
…and drain all words
…out of the ink of a writer
They can be as severe
…as clearing the thinking tools of philosophers
…and as intense
…as uprooting our will to live
Yes, it can be as serious
…as a murderous tractor
…knocking out your hopeful factor

III
On all hurtful seas
…with their angry boats
…and chasing sharks of taunts
Say nay
…to decay
…that stray
…into your day
Rather lift a yay
…in hope of a bright ray
Even clouds tire
…when they stay too long
…on the face of skies
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 3, 2019

ORGAS MIC

For those who raise their rods
…as Moses did
…to part the red sea on their best halves
…and just walk through
…caring not about the delicate grounds
…they stump on
…going forth and back
…until they shed their semenic enemies
…caring not about the beautiful rains never unshed
You’re horrible hate harvesters
…in your beautiful human farms

II
How can you not pray
…by weeding stress and duress
…calling seeds of care to grow
…on skins you’ll wear?
How can you not work their rains
…to bless your digging
…with moisture?
How can you not be a fence
…to hold onto your beautiful farms
…after your planting?

III
A good farmer harvests great yields of respect
…love
…care
…satisfaction
…tenderness
…and becomes the precious star
…of his farm

IV
This is an advice from Orgas’ Mic
…to all forceless farmers
…facing frights of chaotic homes
…neglecting good play in the fore
…and knowing not why they harvest defeat
…in their farms of love
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 2, 2019

MISSIONS IN VISIONS

There is a rainbow of cheer
In every noble thought
There is a golden line so rare
In every impactful lot
So work your vision
Through a thorough mission
With noble precision
For greed will lead to unfavorable collision
Through to shameful derision
Never before envisioned

II
If you take out the comfort you perceive
From the vision you wish to achieve
You will clearly see the path of success
…and follow to the road of achievement
Right to the stage of celebration
This will lead to an elevation
…worthy of ovation
A great thought
…is the nisus of positive impacts

III
Working heads need no deep carvings
…to see the writings on workable walls
…of success
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 1, 2019