TRUE WORSHIP

Fellows finally find freedom
…in feeding from fem-pots
With no fear
…of being tagged failures
Loving their forms

II
It is better to show the “sins” snowing within
…than wrapping it up
…and tanning your outer with piety
Real talent is eating from a good bowl
…and licking it up in worship
…caring not about fingers in pointing
…thoughts of anointed shaming
…mouths carrying for a selling
…Ears waiting for a hearing
That Will is praiseworthy
…on the fearless, oh sons!

III
So man up even before God
And live like the wolves you are
…instead of sheeping in self deception
Sins are mere clothes of fallibility for humans
Our real works, should suffer no judgment
…for our flawed personal choices
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 20, 2019

HARD TIMES

Tit bits of hits
…have bitten into cultures so deep
That even animes have become enemies
…gunning down innocence
So guard hard your planted
…lest you grow the bad to live in a mad place
…where consciences are without traces

II
Choosing to
…house
…inner monsters
…locking learning with freedom
…damning the good to pat the bad is a human crime

III
Choose to grow
…hearts which
…ink honour in your
…line and not
…dusty drums which hurt eyes and dig curses

IV
Our hands have no time
…to stay for long to mend our wrongs
So start now
To leave a regal legacy
And not a lethal wreck
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 19, 2019

MPRƆYƐ MU

Nneɛ ɔkaa sɛ bebia abɛ bɛtɔ biara yɛ mprɔyɛ mu no
…yɛ ɔbadwenba a adwenehare kyekyere n’aniso adehunu kakra
Efirisɛ abɛ bi tumi tɔ egya mu
…ɛhye
Abɛ bi tumi tɔ ɛboɔ so
…ɛwo
Abɛ bi ti tɔ fɔm ma mmoadoma we
Abɛ bi tumi tɔ nnɔti bi mu
…ɛmmim a y’ɛnhu n’adwosuo koraa
…na y’akohunu ne prɔyɛ
Enti tɔ baabia wo ho bɛtɔ woɔ
…ɛnyɛ baabia wo bɛfiri atɔ
Hunu sɛ
Ahodwoɔ adanseɛ
…y’ɛgye no wɔ akoma anum

II
Nnipa bi hia wo ahoahoa wo te sɛ akyɛdeɛ papa bi
…nso ebinom anya wo ɛtiatia wo te sɛ akoa
Nnipa bi ɛɛpɛ wo de wo ayɛ wɔn abasobɔdeɛ
Adɛn na wo tena hɔ ma nkrɔfoɔ twi w’ase wɔ nkoasom mu?
Wo nnyɛ mpapa dua
…na w’atwɛn okuani sikan ano ya
…ansa w’akɔ si kapenta anaa adefɛnyunofo bi nsɛm
Baabia abɛ bɛ kɔ tɔ no yɛ n’ahyeaseɛ
…aweiyɛ no gyina n’amunimuni tumi so

III
Enti bɔ wo bra tesɛ nkontapa bufoɔ
Wo nan si ha
…n’ɛpatri a
…fa mmɔdimmɔ yɛ adwumadene
Na hwehwɛ agyinae pa
…ɛwiawia kɔtɔ
Efirisɛ ɔbra deɛ
…ɛnoaa ne nea wo de wo wediɛ apre abɔ akɔduru
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 18, 2019

For foreign followers:

(This is an inspirational poem encouraging readers to work to be in places where they’ll be needed, or places where their worth will be appreciated)

THE WAY FORWARD

Brushing rotten teeth
…bleeds out rotten blood
Fire roasts minerals
…to burn out hidden beauty
There is no great results without tiresome beginnings
Same goes for development

II
1. Results
2. Obese
3. Exercise
4. Fitness

III
For the 2 to attain total 4
There is a need for a rigorous 3
Which comes with
…tiredness
…body aches
…stress
…sicknesses
Before the 1 of 4 can be achieved

IV
Development is like 1
It takes the determined
…brave
…hardworking
…fearless
…and many sacrifices
To birth

V
So let’s cut off the yearning for imported luxury
Let’s kill all our unhealthy relationships
Let’s hold our hands to strengthen our stands
Let’s begin a suffering that promises jubilation
We have crawled for too long
…at the feet of beasts
Who love seeing their towering
When we know our height will dwarf them
Even in a sitting

VI
Arise
For a
Revolution
In
Can do
Appeals

VII
We need us to chase our ages
…to equalize development
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 18, 2019

THE CABLE OF TROUBLE

The cable of trouble
…ably enabled by labels and gambles
…which wobble legs of the stable
…even on a comfortable table
…is no fable to play with like a colored bubble

II
So sit
…seek
…study
…store
…to strengthen your senses
For the land of temptation is like a slippery slope
Every feet is susceptible to tripping
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 17, 2019

FAR APART

If cold winds can call your presence
…from your absence
..to my presence
And stop biting me with longing for you
I will live better
…without feeling the miles which knot like ropes
…to hang our lust in our days apart

II
If nights will stop the frights
…of the emptiness that this huge bed poses
And stop showing the thorns of distance
…between you and I
I will cherish the memories
…which turn channels of unfulfilled needs
And have my shadows play your company

III
But time talks touches
…which can tickle giggles
The dark ghosts a host
…who can work a boasting
Silence whispers a voice
…which can smite boredom
The ceiling shows visions of actions missing
Closed eyes open the cinema of my mind
…which shows videos of our missions
…being murdered by time
Miles pile vile dials
…which never get you here

IV
So I keep staring at your imagination
…on the ceiling
I keep seeing your pictures
…on the bedside table
Your form keeps forming
…on the floor
It gets worse at the empty side of the bed
…at the doors which promise your production
…by lying through their keyholes
And when I look at the wardrobe
…it plays tricks of hiding you
I keep staring
I just keep staring everywhere
…like one freshly admitted into the dorm of insanity

V
This is what miles have piled on me
As we live under same suns
…same moons
…same skies
Holding onto the rope of love
…far stretched by distance
Placing us in two worlds
…far apart
To feel the unfair burns of loneliness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 16, 2019

WHERE DO I GO?

Where do I go from you?
When your looks
…book me confusion
Your smiles
…blind me in illusion
Your hugs
…buy me commotion
…of loss in your warmth
Where do I go?
Just where do I go from you?

II
Where do I go from you?
When you are the house
…I hope to build
The home
…I wish to return to
The hope
…I need restored
The heart
…I yearn to live in
Where do I go to?
Just where do I go from you?

III
My heart is no student
…of my head
…to sit and listen to its reasoning
My eyes are no slaves
…of my mind
…to bow and close to your presence
Even my thoughts
…pace like cars in races
…in the mind that should be ruling
All in demonstration to have you
Where do I go to?
Where do I go from you?

IV
I may be a mate in your bait
I may be a lie in your sly
I may be an ant in your can’t
I may be the ark in your dark
But I am a beating heart
…with heating hopes
…lured by your charms
So where do I go to?
Just where do I go
…if you push me to the land of rejection?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 15, 2019

CHA TO CHA

Preacher –
If my mama couldn’t reach me
And my papa couldn’t teach me
Please don’t preach me
…and turn around to act leach
…to bleach my pocket into tatters

Ib
If you need a socket to charge your pocket
…bribe me with no locket
For I am a rocket which blasts such pockets
If you need a dam to source your electrickcity
I am a harm which lights no such city

Ic
The world was better until your cluster
Which now litter to shatter
…thanks to your brain batter

II
Culture –
If you can’t nurture me
Then don’t torture me
Your punctures and ruptures of lectures
…build no structures of mine
Nature’s stature sprinkles freedom in growth
How your gestures restructure
…minds to torture
Model beasts in carnivorous feasts

IIb
So Culture
Tame your nature
And respect your stature
So I can grow my stature through my nature without your preacher’s risky reach
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 14, 2019

REST THEM BREASTS

Buy them breaks!
Block not their breathes!
Beast not their betters!
Bake not their best!
Rest them breasts to bless them chests!

II
You who stretch them
…like wretches needing a squeezing assembly
You who stand them
Like falling plantain needing soldier sticks stands!
You who suffocate them
…like naughty twins needing mouths in cover!
You who poison them
…like energiless youth needing some dope!
You who hold them
…like life prisoners needing no release!
Rest them breasts to bless them chests!

III
Panic not to bother them in shame
Let no fear blast them like stones in quarries
For the young will definitely grow
…as the tick tocks
The standing will sit in rest
The sitting will sleep in rest
Life’s stages should call no rages of cages
…for those orangey pots
Rest them breasts to bless them chests

IV
And oh –
…do check them
To know if a foe has thrown a bow
…of cancer
…in their hearts
Do inspect them
…to clear all threats
…playing some stunts
…around and in
You can cross out a cancer
And protect your babies
So they can age in grace with you
Just rest them breasts to bless them chests
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 13, 2019
It is Pink October. Be sure to get a check up. Sleep in no braziers and free them tatters

LISA’S VISA

Lisa thought she had gotten a visa to riches
By wedding onto a comfortable bedding
Her bragging and doggy greeting
with fingers acting pianists in the air
…could be seen even by the blind
Driving all spinsters mad with bad jealousy

II
Hers was acting boss to clean
…and taking off dross to dance for daddy
But daddy’s okro
…couldn’t do foko
And his time allotted her
…was nothing even Ananse’s binoculars
…could see on a pie chart
Still, she tried keeping her sweats
…in the fur of riches
…reminding herself of the security it brings

III
A year hopped onto its quadruple next
No seed sent a text
…talk less visited her womb
Her expensive make-up couldn’t cover
…the tensions from corners
In laws screamed and threatened
Hubby puffed and shrugged
Friends teased and gossiped
Doctors assured of her function
Until she hatched a plan to redeem her face

IV
Lisa visited Koo Mpapa and begged him to act farmer
…to plant just a seedling in her garden
As the planting was nearing the end
A thick tall soldier woman walked in on them
And beat the hell out of both
With her bruises, Lisa went home with a red lie
“Some thieves attacked me o
Yieeee! Aoooo! My ribs”

V
Hubby called in a doctor
But before he could come in
The soldier woman dragged Koo Mpapa to her compound
To announce the sin and to warn
Lisa knew her fate could not be saved
With her things packed in a modern suitcase
She was thrown out without a pesewa
The cloudless sky compounded her plight
…by raining cats and dogs

VI
Having no where to go
She decided on visiting her Maame Sɔfo
…to intercede on her behalf
She met hubby’s car at her compound
Thanking her stars, she walked into her hall
…without a call
Hubby was using Maame Sɔfo as his hobby
Waist play on display
None bothered to panic
…her presence exaggerated their fake moans
Agyawaadwo!

VII
Even tears deserted her
She decided to go back to her village
When she reached home
…everyone had gathered, crying their hearts out
Lisa’s mother and father had died in an accident
The car her ex hubby bought them collided with a Tipper Truck
Lisa collapsed

VIII
Three moons walked past her
…pushing her troubles to their peers
With no skill and more bills
She felt like death could fix her
But cowardice dangled pain in her mind
With just two mud houses and a shared plot for farming
Even one meal posed a big deal
Until she felt dizzy and fell one afternoon

IX
The area nurse was called
…she pronounced that Lisa was
…with a three moon seed
She had not known her hubby for five moons
Koo Mpapa’s planting planted the fruit
Ei!

X
With society pointing their fingers at her
She began thinking so hard
…until some of the wiring in her head snapped
Taking the burden of dressing
…and begging off her
Affording her smiles and laughters without causes

XI
Take heed and learn from Lisa’s visa
You who want short routes
Of being swallowed by a waist python
Thinking its womb a bed of roses without thorns
Your sweats’ breath will yield and equip at you will
…no matter the trouble
“Ours” seldom rushes to save
…in troubled waters
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 13, 2019

EGOPRIDIC GHOSTS

We are in this doom fence
Nursing fear of separation
With rains of vulnerability falling into the konkura
…of our heads
While our faces mask the opposite
…in deviance

II
We’re in these emotional whirlwinds
Digging dust to blind each other
…in our troubled tracks
When unspoken words ghost our unhappiness
…with heartbreaking sadness
How crumbs of dissatisfaction piled
…into heaps of filth
…to clog the flow of communication
…in the gutters of our pride
Still baffles me
Why can’t our mouths speak the truths in our hearts?

III
Your ego eggs my pride to the happy view of others
My pride stones your ego to the chatty excitement of others
But we’re the ones who’ll lose the kisses
…feel the misses
…and face the hisses and their attending disses
Why can’t we see?

IV
There is no delicious dish egos and pride cook
…in relationships
There are no real wishes I-must-win grants
…in love
There is no bliss at the end of embarrassing schemes
Why can’t we see?
Why can’t we see?

V
What will be more painful
Will be the needing of each other
After we ruin us in front of all
With our eyes sent by our hearts in calling
Our bodies weak by the whips of yearning
As our relations battle in an unmendable war
To bomb all hope of revival

VI
Still, we’re here
A place so unfair
Knowing the ditches our bitching is digging
Seeing the culture of a future of rupture with no promising rapture
Knowing we’ll be consumed
…so consumed
…by the fire that the fuel of pride
…and the flames of ego
……lights,
…but still walking into that hell shell
…knowing so well the lack of quenching well
…thereof
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 12, 2019

AKUKU-ADAMFOƆ

Na ɔmama abɔ mma
…ama ɔnam a, na n’abati ɛɛto ahantan nnwom
Efirisɛ na obu ne ho okukudam
N’ɛnso wɔn a wɔhyɛ n’ase nyinaa buu no okuku-ɔdamfoɔ nnyɛ nɛ

II
Wo bisa sɛ ɛdeɛn ntira?
Ɛneɛ tie ɛ
Ɔde suahunu ɛkɔtena suatera dua ase
…de pia pia nsukɔnoma kɔ dua no so
Ɔfaa nyamberansɛm yi so kenkan wɔn nhweneɛ
…san de kukɔɔ wɔn adagya mu nsrahwɛ wɔ ehu hyɛn mu

III
Nnura yi a,
Aberantipa no kyeree Akuba de no tena ne tiaseɛnam mu tesɛ Bronya akokɔ
Wɔn duru ne nhyɛsoɔ kokomu hɔ no
M’enfrɛ hɔ efie da
Ɔwɔ no nkonsa ma no kɔ si ne nneɛma
Owie yɛ no
…ɔsan nso si n’agegemu kosi sɛ Akuba atufokɛseɛ no dwo yɛɛ traa
Aa ɔnyɛ n’asiwa
Ɔde nsɔhwɛ mu ndiguo na ɛdane etuo
…de bɔ no ntrɛne

IV
Ɛnɛ yi,
…ɔde n’asɛm kɔɔ Abaawa so no
Ɛna n’apaawa abɛtɔ animguaseɛ gya so no o
Enti wo te akuku-adamfoɔ a
Na ɛyɛ wɔn a wɔn de wɔn sɔsɔ
…eetu mmaayaa ayaase wɔ suapɔn abodin mu
Wɔn kɔfabae ɛne “Okukudam” a n’apaawa da so yi
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 11, 2019

WEIRDEST WISPS

They met daily on Facebook
And shared jokes via Twitter
They saw each other on Instagram
And chatted seriously via email
While walls were their only distance
A walking sadness on unfortunate path

II
And so the child grew by the teachings of the net
And fell into its wreckless bet with life
His fingers talked for his mouth
His eyes thought for his mind
His body always needed a ghost to represent in all congregations
Such a walking sadness on an unfortunate path!

III
The heat of awkwardness piled up
Home schooled
A human fooled
An internet made
A rope talked to his problems
And offered transportation to another realm
Where the body could not follow to hurt
And so it was that Kobby did leave
As the Mensahs cried their fate in hate
It was a walking sadness that walked an unfortunate path

IV
I hope many will learn from their tale
So as to unstale their tales
In this world in a crazy vehicle
…on a weird road chased by hypocritical wisps
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 11, 2019

PILLS OF QUILLS

If you’re still ill in will, with worries piled bills
The pills in quills will still your will
…so find words waiting in closed books
They’ll give you thrills which will shrill your ills
…and fill your chill with goodwill
Just kill your ills of daunting hills with stories
Waiting to shed your worries

II
You can meet a brute who crudes a cute
And an angel bright to smite the brute
You can swoon at noon like a moon afloat
Just by some hopelessly sweet romantic vibes
You can be with a ninja who gingerly snaps
And get all lovers in your wraps
What of cursing outloud and crying the shrouded?
Be a read who reads to live
Just kill your ills of daunting hills with stories
Waiting to shed your worries

III
All that is hidden can be ridden at your bidden
If you just open those books
…to explore
Lives in books are worth our booking
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia October 10, 2019

BASICS OF ETHICS

1. Priorities
2. Honour
3. Patriotism
4. Double Standards
5. Groveling
6. Sovereignty
7. Oppression
8. Expression
9. Impression
10. Favour
11. Saviour
12. Behavior
13. Cages
14. Slavery
15. Justification

Ib
1b. Knocked up
2b. Fucked up
3b. Strapped on
4b. Preposterousness
5b. Cracked in
6b. Searched
7b. Wiped out
8b. Sanity
9b. Nonsensical
10b. Grow weeds
11b. Development Farm
12b. Global Village
13b. Power
14b. Gobble
15b. Powerless

II
I didn’t know our 1 were so strange
I didn’t know our 8 could work to our advantage
Let alone cause our 9 to battle our 7

III
I didn’t know our 6 was this revered
Until it was used as 11 to check some’s faulted 12
To save their falling 10
What selective emancipation
In the 13 of our 14
And demented queers cheer with horrid 15

IV
Where stands our 6
When our 2 was long slashed by 5
In a 4 which stamped our 7?
Why do we now think 3 when our 1
…have never been straight?

V
Goats chewing on grasses fear weedicides
…and poison
Suited pigs are now modeling eagles in mmeri-ntama
Forgetting the kneeling of their 2
To beg for even things communualism can cater for

VI
Wisdom has been 2b and 1b
5b and 6b in an unfortunate 7b of our 8b
Why else do we 3b this 4b
In a 9b of 4?
Is it to 10b in our 11b to force us to mark time
In this 12b where 13b 14b the 15b?

VII
We’re a bunch of sorry laughters
Using our own minds as equipment
To entertain happy spectators
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 9, 2019

SEXCAGRADES

Ugly luring
Ugh lusting
Untoward loving
Uni-Lords
Luck will lock on all your clocks
…to cork the pens you use to fork
…your victims
Reversing trends of shamed victims
…and famed predators

II
You’re lions picking on cubs in nursing
You’re like umbrellas suffocating noses with fake protection
You’re staircases crippling legs with hidden tetanus nails
Oh you pathfinders turned murderous ice
…to overturn healthy ships dangling tips through lips to feed snakes in zips!
You’re unjust beasts who’ve lost their home forests
…of evil
Deviling in paradises and creating hells
…in innocence
But your luck will lock on all your clocks
…to cork the pens you use to fork
…your victims
Reversing trends of shamed victims
…and famed predators

III
The power you use as bullets
…to shoot down prides, egos and dignity
The honour you use as arrows
…to pierce through the helpless to sorrow
The respect you use as knives
To blind and bind all eyes behind
Will fall in a call so raw
Trust that luck will lock on all your clocks
…to cork the pens you use to fork
…your victims
Reversing trends of shamed victims
…and famed predators

IV
For manipulation is no matriculation
Which needs watering through to thigh graduation
And intimidation is no seedling
Which needs planting in our fertile landucation
Minds are not your toys
…for your ploys to coyly play
…to get you bodies of shoddies to muddy
Luck will lock on all your clocks
…to cork the pens you use to fork
…your victims
Reversing trends of shamed victims
…and famed predators

V
For sins have tins
…whose bins of wins fill up
And time coughs dimes
…whose crimes in mimes speak up
Oh luck will lock on all your clocks
…to cork the pens you use to fork
…your victims
Reversing trends of shamed victims
…and famed predators
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 8, 2019

This poem is dedicated to all those who have in one way or the other suffered molestation or abuse in an educational setting. Justice will surely be the norm someday.

THAT DUDE (A Fantasy Tale)

Ia
Stories……Interest…… Needs
Worries……Filters…….Deeds

Ib
I heard the macho had come to town
His history hopped out from the past
…flipping itself like an interesting script
…in the library of my mind
Forcing smiles long on vacation
…to return home to the mouth of my face
Mischief playing dondo, mpintin and atumpan in my head
…as my feet danced in can’t-wait-to-feel mode

II
He was to grace the climax of the festival
And my pretty and awesome mind
…was to lay the perfect trap
…to arrest his attention
…and subsequently his body
…to the bed of my thrill
…armed with a naughtiness born out of my devilish side
…making sure no corners sat for a hide

III
The D day came
…with many buttocks competing to stand out
Mine, not capable of a somersault
…let alone an earthquake that will break him in
Like an ebony, his skin shone with the sun
…his dark hair still guarded his hairline
…like disciplined soldiers on guard duty
…none out of line
His eyes swarm in flirty waters
…black in brown in white
Mouth like a womb I needed
…even if it could drive me to the tomb
Tall body that looked like an electric pole in my mind
…then
…legs and arms well proportioned
…chest lying like the best football park in the world
I could swear his fingers called for my kneading
…I didn’t mind being dough
His flat back side promised a handsome harvest at the frontal
And the muscles!
…Oh the muscles snaked like wild cobras
He was everything that spelt the warrior long spoken about
Yes, he was fine
…so fine I needed him mine
…even if it was for an hour

IV
He broke the bones of his competitors like lonely broomsticks
And the crowd-
…both men and women
…screamed his name
Humans choked the Hantrase Square
…making me a dot in the lot as the dark curtained
…but I was confident

V
The bonfire went out
…according to plan
Darkness wore the place like a whore on known chores
…which paid well into satisfaction’s core
The rope housed by my hands
…readily went to tie his left leg
The pole which could not be broken
…being its support
…in a nyansapo which even the wise
…will struggle to crack
I then stood close
…watching him struggle to break free

VI
“Fight me…
I purred into his ears
…as he struggled for an untie
“or grant my wish
…of being my night dish”
He smiled
“Sure, the second will be a pleasure
…so help me out of this rope”
And I did

VII
The mat rustled in complaints
…of the new load
Sweat was a delicious light on
…for the horror need that chanted a feed
The lantern struggled to picture his shadow
…and lost me in him
But my hands had long been explorers
They searched all caves to get the snake
…and wake it live
…from its slumber to play
It was not a cobra
…it was a watersnake to my surprise

VII
“No Warrior Kumnipa
…I need the snake that has cultivated many songs
…from satisfaction of women
…not a water snake which only pinches in self defence”
A snore insulted my bore
…and sent hungry emotions
…to fetch angry ones
…from my mean vault
But reasoning came in their stead
…to whisper his humanity
…and fallibility of tiredness
Sleep still stayed far from me
…till dawn

VIII
He did wake
…and I thought my brakes could break
…in his shake
But he couldn’t beat the record of Kwaa Appiah, the village drunk
His fingers lingered on his side
His eyes played pilolo with mine
His legs shook like a hook afraid of a shark
…far deep in waters from its owner
His mouth closed and opened in panting
Little by little,
…his greatness broke down like the Walls of Jericho
Leaving him naked in strengthlessness
Right before my disappointing eyes

IX
So he was a little fante kenkey
…in huge big beautiful brown plantain leaves
I fetched his togas
…and opened the door
…for his squeeze out
He promised a come back
…but I wasn’t enthused
He did come back
Every Memeneda
…which I made to swallow his almost dead neck
By fastening the door at the back
…and killing the light out of the wick of the lantern

X
For a month and a half
…he tolerated
But decided the sun needed a sitting in our setting
He met to his horror
…Kwaa Appiah in his hardworking stupor
And was not pleased
Warrior Kumnipa lived by his name
…snapping Kwaa Appiah’s neck
Turning him instant ghost in my happy host

XI
The extraordinary him
…immediately showed his ordinariness
As many gathered in my compound
…due to the shrill in the sounds
…that bolted from the pit of my stomach
Funny, the sweat from human and spirit together
…had not dried
But I cried
…for the run which did not take me to the peak of pleasure
…for losing the best gem which only I knew of
…for the many pleasure climbs nights will taunt with memories
Till my well painted whore life ended
…in Kojokrom
This is the tale of that dude
…who still chases my unwilling
…and uninterested slit
No matter how loud jealousies of people here haunt
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 7, 2019

FASHION RUNWAYS

Clothes to shada so all can yada
Hair to pair so it can fata
Footwear to match so atanfo can shiver
Makeup to fit, to look the perfect diva
God’s temples have turned runways
Agyawaadwo!

II
Whispers tiptoe within church walls
And turn bold talks after with shouting balls
“Did you see Awo Yaa’s duku?
It looked like the head of Obosom Bruku”
“I could fit into one of Agbozo’s trouser legs
He was a perfect stick in the agbada trousers!”
Many others will add to exude self importance
For the happy miseries
Who pose relaxed
…after turning God’s churches into fashion runways

III
What gave to level the poor with the rich
Has today become classist
…milking the poor as desperate shepherds milk lean cows
And buys body shaming
…to gift their horrific struggles
The Bible now dribbles the poor
…sip their blood to turn users tipsy and greedy
…like abɛnom
To continuously model vampires on pulpits
While wearing refined sweat like decorated pigs
Why have churches turned fashion runways?

IV
If the end times exist
It would have come to resist
Insisting on the right
…to refresh the frozen horrors

IVb
Which hell is greater than a brainwashed head
…on a suffering body?

V
Now none searches for real churches
…and fetches no wretches reaching for the unfortunate
Real churches died long before now
With none knowing how

Vb
Some may call for hedging
…claiming others are still living true
But which wise pauper acts elder
…even in true churches?
Face it
All you attend are fashion runways
…which turn hypocritical networks after closing
…and metamorphose into gossip palours at home
OH, forget ye not the models posing on internet streets
…faking thanks to the almighty
It is really a runway now
…exhibiting clothes and money
In Sunday showdowns
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 6, 2019

LOUDEST

They all scream to title the next
…in my head’s nest
Hatred screams on love
Love adorably stares
As heartbreak rears it’s head
…to force love to close its eyes
Religion calls for sanity
But sins stamp their ink on their leaders
Politics reads its provisional manifesto
But disappointment laughs loudest
…shutting in all screams
Peace makes a sign
…chaos calls that it is king
Until the law hits its gavel on the table for calm
Immediately, bribery and corruption glare their “hey!”
Reflection walks straight to the highest seat
…sits and wins the audience’s calm

II
So reflect to correct a defect
If this space has given you a chance to direct
…a task
You’re like a plane
…hosting many in your womb
To be flown down in life jackets in your lifely crash
To always be known as one of the best carriers
…to generations you’ll never see
Reflection is the most important ingredient
In our developmental cooking
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 5, 2019

AYASE NTƆKWA

Akasa akasa bebree yi fapem ne sɛn?
Yɛse yɛse mframa ɛɛkeka ammodin dɔ ho asɛm
Bɔyiɛ!

Ib
Ano jejejeje bɔ awerɛfie
Sɛ sɛbi, yɛ nto ɛdan akyi pono mu
Paapa,
…ansa na wo bɛ bue w’ano no
Hwɛ hunu sɛ
Wo dan akyi pono mu ato danwee
Efirisɛ ɔdɔ mu akronfoɔ kyere woa
…ɛɛdɛ sene deɛ ɔdɔ mu kyewpafoɔ abasobɔdeɛ
Ɛdeɛn na nananom aanyɛ anfa abosomsom tumi gyina ho?
Nanso ɛnɛ yi
Halleluya ntiamu bɔ nananom abosom asasa
Ɛnkyɛ na abufuw adane bɛfame mpaebɔ

II
Ɔdɔ mu nsɛm nsɛm nyɛ me Abena Tawiah Amoafowaa dadwene
Efirisɛ obiara akuma ne ne nan
Ebi nanti kɔ wɔn anim
Ebi nanti kɔ wɔn akyi
M’entumi nbɔ me deɛ adwaa
Na m’akɔ fa obi deɛ asua akɔ kyini
Sɛ anim pono ne n’akyi pono wɔ apue yi de
Abɔntene kwan yɛ efiewura nkoa tirimusɛm

III
Ɛwɔ mu sɛ nnipa su ma awufo deɛ
Ɛno nkyerɛ sɛ efunu nkɔ mprɔyɛ mu
Enti mma nnisuo hunu nsɛye w’aniso adehunu
Ano ka nsɛm a aduru n’asuɛye
Nanso akekakeka bebree bɔ tirimu pɔ asesa
Wo deɛ na hwɛ
…na w’akoma akɔso
Ɛnɛ asetena pɔnkɔ nte fo
…na w’afa ne ho akonya menemukro
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 4, 2019

AN ODE TO YOUNGER SELF

I stand here and turn back
To look at the you who fell into the rot of poverty
From a pot that needed you not
…and a rain which only fell for pleasure
…and fled to hide into some small pores on the earth
Today I marvel at your strength

II
I stand here and watch you sent off
To an unknown house hosting cold hearts
Who turned you into a little dog
Always to obey lest you forgo even the unneeded bones
Fear, always your companion
Shivers, always your friend
As witchcraft described you to their unkind content
And I wonder the star that filled your shine

III
Need I mention the hunger
…that wheeled you from one sleepless night onto another?
That you only thought of the pangs of others
And not the roars and bites in your grumbling stomach
And stood like a knightess
…to work even in your pitiable frame
Is only a mystery!
Abena Amoafowaa, you are one of the mastered made mystery
…ever to grace history!

IV
The cold whips of street air
The hunting fear of street monsters
The heavy weight of minerals and malt
The heavy taunt of servitude
None broke your resolve
You were firm like Afadjato
And wise like no other
You wandered in wonderment
Dragging your weight and all others
Through the desert paths of enlightenment
Paying your dues and theirs with your sweats
Until Agowa held you from a fall of breakage
One would’ve thought your peace was born
But you knew a beginner’s path when you saw it
How intelligent you were!

V
When the winds of sicknesses bit your seed
Even before your merits coughed little fees
You stood taller than all
Adding to the weighing burden that already existed
Mothering a set through, watched by betters of dirts
Can any measure your coolness Eno Amoafowaa?

VI
You fought like a lioness
Traveled like an eagle
You indefatigably worked like a multitude
Shedding drowning tears when need be
Beating sleep and its rule breaking sicknesses
…to save
Although you lost in a painful blow
You won the admiration of the heavens
The earth and even the hells
For going through it all like a born soldier
Never giving up even in a day
Yours is a bigger heart than all!

VII
This refined me
Sailed with the winds of your pains
This almost accomplished me
Swam through the seas of your tears to the shores of fascination
This respected me
Healed because of your torture
This comfortable me
Traveled through your war with clouds
How can I ever repay the warrior
Who served, pushed this queen here
…and is left in the past?
If any mouth can put words together to spell your awesomeness
Young Amoafowaa,
That mouth will deserve a medal of honour
From non less than Odomankomah himself

VIII
I’m fed thanks to your hunger
I can laugh because of your fountains of tears
I am revered thanks to the many struggles you suffered
I’m studied thanks to your diligent studies
I’m well dressed thanks to your tatters
I’m everything fair humility offers
Thanks to the nothingness you rocked
Wow!
Ɔdɔ, is there any like you?

IX
You’re all the awesome words a great dictionary holds
…and will forever roll in
You’re all the stars the brightest night sky can host
Added to its moon
You’re one of the best suns the world will know
You’re evergreen and ever bright
Your fiery spirit and your fearless soul,
Your determined body and your brilliant mind,
Your awesome discernment and your loving heart
…even in your many storms,
Gifted me this peace I feel today
Abena Sefa Amoafowaa Jemremedua
…Mansah Tawiah
Receive all your accolades for the great work done
For you’re a stone child and you’ll forever be the basis of my greatness!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 4, 2019

MY TOKLO

You say I’m selling
But you are yelling
Calling for customers sleeping and traveling
In a badness of madness in searching my shaming
When I’ve never signed any contract of marketing
…with you
What is your own if I am selling my toklo?

II
While you light the fires of gossips
And pour your sweats for earth’s sips
I go on insomniac trips
And take all of tiredness’ whips
…day, night, dawn
Though my bedroom is not your market
You still bark like a desperate atufoɔ boɔ marketer
To sell me in disgust to the world
What is your own if I am selling my toklo?

III
I thank my stars if I’ve a hot spot
…ready to be bought
…by a lot
To raise me from poverty to wealth
Since I’m your work
Keep being my guard
I’ll occasionally throw you some words
When I pause selling my toklo to rest

IV
I’ve nothing to fear even if I’m selling my toklo
Is it society’s path to their potable river?
Is it the society’s ceremonial mouth?
Is it your not-to-be-tainted fetish shrine?
Or you consider it your golden farm?
It is my toklo
…on my body’s kro

V
I pity the pious who stop creating paths
…from their toklo to ahenman mu
To blabber about those who use theirs
…for earthly purposes
How sad will it be
…when your God calls and your pious path
…is a desert of thorns?
Continue selling my toklo on your time’s market

VI
We all thread on roads of our choices
After following our inner voices
So you continue to make up noises
Expecting gracious invoices
…for my pay
Ha! My toklo will at least pay me
Yours?

VII
Time is a cruel boss to mankind
There is no word like kindness
…in its wicked dictionary
So continue selling my toklo in your freshness
But don’t bemoan a loss
If you wake to the arrest of wrinkles
Having used all your time to help sell my toklo
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 3, 2019

TILL THE EXIT

There were dead men before us
Oblivon was a hunter who had all the games of life
Not anymore
Not in our lives

II
For our present can be frozen like ice
To locomotively flow like rivers
On a save-forever realm
You think I lie?
Google Mugabe
Google Maya Angelo
Google Atukwei Okai
And they will stand
…sit
…laugh
…shout
…discuss
Like you
Like I
Like all
None dies today

III
So don’t be a bee who stings itself and becomes
So crippled that it’ll need another’s nickle
To wriggle out of its hurts
Always looking like an errand dog
At the meeting of grand animals
For there are eyes with unblinking lenses
There are ears with no blockages
And there are mouthpieces with no brakes
We sure won’t die
But so will our deeds

IV
So live the reasoned
Work like a biblical ant
Be selfless like the Samaritan
Giving your all to the call of playing the ball of development
Into the success goalpost
For the unbirthed who’ll be watching you
Years after your bones are droned to extinction
Even if you can’t
…at least exist to assist
…and count in the makers list
…until your exit
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 2, 2019

EDUCATIONAL SOCCER

Old voices die amidst young voices
No matter how loud or shrilling
They are like plantain leaves
…no matter how beautiful their stretches
…they dry up and fall only to be replaced by a higher new
With every height of the plantain tree
…comes a new sect of accompanying leaves
Such is the moulding of society

II
Watching education become a park
Where culture battles foreign donors as they play sexual curriculum
…in this modern exploratory world
Hoping to score the winning goal
…while the referee and line referees
…have already signed a mental gain bait
…with the latter
Mixes excitement, laughter and fun
…in a sour-sweet Martini
For this spectator

III
It reminds me of a story an ancestor told in a dream
About a man living on a loamy land
…overtaken by an explorer looking for loam to better his land
The stranger dug the loam of the native while he slept
And forced him to sprinkle clay on his over fertile land with occasional fertilizer
So the healthy plants started losing weight
…wilting in fruit before their harvest
Still, the native saw nothing wrong
The stranger proposed to dig almost all the loam to his side
…and replace it with his sand and clay
To kill any fruit that will try growing
…on top of all the plants of the native
The native helplessly battles an agreement
…as his family asks that a mixture at least be made
Odomankomah watched the playing comedy in a sad tragedy
…and cried
Each and every tear drop
…flying him farther from the native

IIIb
The ancestor should have finished his story
Before my spirit nudged my body in a wake

IV
Whichever side that wins
…will just become an interesting blabber
…that will blow over in days fewer than three rice grains
But why do I see holes in the backyard
…getting pleasure keys in cherished unlocks
…openly in multitudes
…thanks to the absurd calls of shouting commentators?
I also see mortars pounding mortars
…and building cucumbers to reach the cassava of pleasure!
Agyawaadwo!
Why wake one faking sleep to keep wailers quiet
…through an emboldening chaos?
No matter the resistance of statics
I’m sure their hearts know
…their loss
As what they fear is already a built power play
…needing just an unveiling
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 1, 2019