Like rivers travelling to sea
Like airs roaming with no fee
Like mountains sitting in glee
I need to be free

I am a river
Looking for my sea
I am an air
Looking to be good breath
I am a mountain
Waiting for that one climber
Just give me space
And make me free

Free to move
Free to dance
Free to shout
“O uu o u woooooo”
Free to laugh
“Ha ha ha ha ha”
Free to cry
Free to stare
Free to fly
Up, up into the sky
To be so high.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c)2015

Gerald Adjei ©2015


Gone are the days
When Ghanaian children feared ‘kakai’
Now only villagers, coastal children and children with naturalistic parents get to bath in natural waters
What was a swimming pool then?
An anachronistic thought

Now, ‘mpotompoto’ and ‘coco’
Are for the villagers and children with grand mothers
Ei! With the lac lac lac in milk and sugar
Abound on the market
Who wants to be primitive?
I shake my head

Even watching the stars at night
Counting them in childlikeness
Running in hide and seek
All are swiped by ‘Kojo-Televisin’
And its game friends

When teenagers took runs
As they went to the streams
Fetching and helping each other to carry their pots
Oh, that too is gone with the emergence of ‘Ama-pipe’

‘Jaco’ and ‘antowankyire e!
Obi nfere Nanasei mma me
Na me si obiba Abena, na me si obiba Abena
Na me si obiba Aaabena
Na me si obiba Aaabena…’
Oh! All those times are lost for modernity

Africa lived then
Ghana lived then
Nature’s departure is true happiness’ rapture
Well, a new form of happiness has captured
What can I say?
Life goes on
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c)2015



He has risen
He has risen to many cherry bosoms
Making sales on street beds

In the mouth of the Kwahu Mountain

He has risen

He has risen
He has risen to countless stinking pubs

On many holy grounds
He has risen

He has risen
He has risen to bleached bodies
On many Black heads
He has risen

He has risen
He has risen to huge mountains

In the middle of giants peeping through defecation holes
He has risen

He has risen
He has risen to mortars pounding their own fufu

Like absurd shadows trying to hug humans

He has risen

He has risen
He has risen like a conqueror
But His eyes just made Him feel like a chicken
Seeing as His Father’s men ask for freedom to concur anal doctrines
He has risen

He has risen,
He has risen to an internet world
Where money rituals possess hackers and innocents alike
To seek satanic sensationalisms for money extraction
He has risen

He has risen
He has risen to many thievery scenes

And many haramic bombings
On lands so sacred

He has risen

He has risen
He has risen to full churches
With countable pious souls
Oh what hypocrisy!
He has risen
Risen but considering leaving for the throne of glory

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

The Will.

I smell the spices on my body
I see darkness all around
I see myself in an enclosed place
That I cant turn my body here and there.

I see myself in front of two transparent doors
And all I can see is
Joy from one door
And wailings from the other

My child,
Come around.
I’ve to give you what I earned on earth
Just listen attentively.

You know this wooden structure
We live in is not mine
All I saved for you was the iPad
I spent all my life savings on.
I hope you do something better.

Gerald Adjei



Dawn’s whispers

It freshness and tears

Its soothings caress

Bodies smile and feel

Which arena can compare?



Morning’s massages

Its beauty and smiles

Its vitamins like potent drugs

Bodies smile and feel

Which arena can compare?



Afternoon’s strength

Its drying and heat

Its scares and energy

Bodies love in care

Which arena can compare?



Evening’s calm

Its gentleness and promising rest

Its breezes of healing heat

Bodies love and fear

Which arena can compare?



Night’s mystery

Its coolness, lurings, longings and satisfactions

Its clothes of darkness

Saintly bodies’ reliefs, curiosities and fears

Why won’t deviancies use her as a cloak?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Dawadawa and prekese
Are now ruled by curry powder
And white spices
Ghana men hide in masks
Thinking they are trending
And I ask myself why?

Days when our older generation lived
They lived on hwintia, pepreh and kakaduro
Adding mako, making sure akoko messa
Dance in soups with fowl carcasses in their rivers
Now many sicknesses abound in powder
Dressed in nice sachets, smiling in attraction to have us killed
And we succumb

No wonder hearts fail
Sighting many an ail
And bodies weaken
Always on healing seeking
We forget what we have thrown away
Culture and strength
Delicacies and safety
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



I am a bright star

I need to see brighter sun

Help! Help Mister Dark


I am a bright star

Sitting dazed like trapped by clouds

I need to see sun


With sun in deep sleep

While I am fully awake

How do I meet her?


Please Mister Dark, help

I help in lighting your world

And so that does count


I need to ask Sun

How she manages to light

The whole world at once


I am a bright star

Needing to hit the bar by

Being a future Sun

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015




When your hands do the mixing

And your heat cry for toasting

Do you get the body building

To feed them your soul’s shillings?




When you kill those trees

And you pay no fees

And you peel their skins

And maim their bodies

Do you serve as the nail for the hammer to force

Into them for togetherness?



At least drivers are fair!

Oh! They have no choice

When the cars are in pain

They leave them in their skinpain

And just stand, sit or sleep

Anywhere minding no ridiculous weeping

Of course I would do same after being burnt to fit!

Way to go, ones made by hands!


Know nature suffers

Know, death after death of foods are felt

Of course by them. Ridiculous?

Know trees have souls

When you cut most of them, their redless blood

stain their skin and you think you have won

As their scars live to reference?

You are no different

You and I are parodies of how we treat

Things under our supervision

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


If I step on your tail

Don’t ask for a bail

Oh time you rogue

You’ve swift tick tocks


If you’ve swift tick tocks

At least pause for a talk

You’re so under lock

And cares not for a weak flock

Oh time you rogue

You’ve swift tick tocks


So tick, talk

Block in your tocks as you walk and stalk

If your lock ever breaks

Know you’ll be among heartless freaks

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Trees placed bets on shoots

Which promised to climb their world

Still the young shoots aimed

But many died being crashed by

The feet of rain and hot sun


One tough shoot remained

It climbed the biggest, tallest

Tree among the lot

Which bragged it was the greatest

But the shoot held on too tight


When short plants asked why,

It replied “I need the strength

Strength the bragged tree has

Words of its mouth are worth naught

To a clutcher and stretcher”


And so it was that

The young shoot stretched in climbing

Until it locked lips

With the tree which bragged and went

On to sit on its bare pate

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Once a fisherman went to fish

He rowed his boat and started to fish

On a lonely sea with many a fish

Hoping for a sweet dish

Then he heard, “I wish you turn fish”

He looked round, saw none, and concluded it was a talking fish

He run home to prevent God from granting the wish of the fish


Once a farmer went to farm

He took his cutlass to weed and farm

In a very lonely area was his farm

All the while thinking about a bouncy harvest of yam

Then he heard, “Why do you always cause us harm?

I wish you would turn weed so I can cause you harm”

He panicked and made his feet warm

By running away from his farm


Wonder hides and scares

Anyone who dares

Sending love to a heart which cares

And to the doubter, some stares

None can these explain ever

Every natural earther has a heart

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Winter’s whistles are skins’ wrinkle

Their cold strolls do make skins wrinkle

Like caked-mud


They choose their lives’ early mornings

To sound their scary cold warnings

With body-marks


Waters rest from stinking bodies

Harsh sprays cry on shivering bodies

Like hard-cores


When the sun appears, bodies dance

Welcoming like mother in dance

With headman


Winter’s wrinkles shrivelled dribble

Send us not into a dribble

Like footballs

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Many talk of Africa

The poor poor Africa

The dessert placed Africa

Mother of bushes, poor Africa

The wild rearing Africa

The illiterate realmed Africa

The ill bred Africa

The jungle Africa


I am in Africa

Born and bred in Africa

Knows its boundaries, this Africa

Feel its warmth, sweet Africa

I have tasted pure seeds in Africa

Have sipped from pure minds in Africa

Where else can I breathe like Africa?

My sweet sweet Africa!

The winds are pure in Africa

Yes, there are scares in Africa

And there are problems in Africa

But which place lacks these under the sky?

I won’t gave a horror face to Africa

I see my Africa

My Africa is a woman

A woman discovered as a girl

A girl pure in nature

A bit mischievous, but serene

Even friendly dogs bite 

When they sense peril

So harmed by intruders

Who caught her young like goats

She rebelled, who wouldn’t?

With time she gained her freedom

And now she picks herself up

Saddled by the greed of her own

Her transition to refinement is not easy

But she lives through with hope

This beautiful lady draped in many colours

Is my Africa

So taint not my Africa

Know her before you speak of Africa

A hospitable fellow who has taken in offenders

And is treating many with hospitality

Everything tastes good

And herbs cure many

I love my Africa

If she is a lion

She roars to protect her young

This is my Africa

And the Africa which needs uncovering

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


Fireflies, save your glow

You capture my eyes in order to glow

Now the moon serenades the sky

Sending sweet light to you and I

Where is your mouth to brag?

Where are your wings to nag?

Look up to the sky

And hear darkness cry


Lovers of secrecy cry foul

Seeing as all eyes howl

The moon smiles so bright

The earth abounds with light


Now let all the youth meet for “antowankyire”

Let all the huge muscles bring their drums

Adowa will be in order

As the mpintin sings

And the Atunpan plays

Laughter and happiness must garnish

The dishes the moon has prepared in the sky

What beauty!

What a pathfinder!

Oh merciful moon.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



What if I say humans are fishes?

We are fishes with air as our water

Swimmingly walking with our hands as fins

Would you all say I’ve lost my brain buttons?


What if I say humans are leaves and fruits?

We are leaves and fruits according to our deeds

So the leaves produce nothing and the fruits are to be remembered

Would you all say I’ve lost my brain buttons?


What if I say humans are jungle animals?

We’re jungle animals with the strongest in power

So the weak gets eaten and beaten and the strong gets shot by time

Would you all say I’ve lost my brain buttons?


What if I say humans are lice?

Parasiting on the head of the poor, poor earth

Who catches the glutton and squashes it dead

Would you all say I’ve lost my brain buttons?


I’m the mad human of the land

Watching, seeing and thinking aloud

If that makes me lose my brain buttons

Then I’ll have to gladly accept your say

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014



When it stretched and stretched

There were complains upon complains

Why one unattractive plant

Could occupy important space

Beats the imagination of all

But time shut all mouths

As it stored in its huge body

Vitamins A, B and C

With potassium

Stifling fats, potassium and sodium

And also hoarding 91% of water

Such a helpful plant

Tasting so sweet

And giving so much

Deserves its huge territory

It can be chewed

Drunk with its rind stewed

What more can we ask of a fruit

Which is known to battle hypertension?


A melon with too many helpful properties

You are a selfish fruit

Wanting to be the only one walking in the body most of the time

But I know you are worth every space

A melon which is spot on

You rock!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



The sins of the fathers

Are crosses on sons and daughters

Crosses heavier than their shoulders can carry

If so

Why are eyes of fathers closed

To their personal sins?

The sky heats today

The handiwork of past, present and future fathers

It’s end result, sky blasting

On innocent children

The sins of the fathers!

Rivers are chocking

In future, they’ll be blocking

Causing drought for their own

The sins of the fathers!

Now I pray

For eyes to see

For ears to hear

And hearts to know

That the environmental sins

Of the fathers are woes unto the children

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




“Let’s talk about toys

And forget boys

Mortars do cover

Pestles never do” Akosua says


“But I do boys

And don’t like toys

What’s with all the coys?

They can’t produce any joys” Amina replies


“But think of toys

They never break hearts

And do as told

They never  break rules too” Akosua emphasises


“I believe in natural creation

Many drown but we still drink water

So I’ll chose the right norm

And face the storm” Amina concludes

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Seeing heaven open and close

In a sheltered happy home

Counting the stars lying on back

Feeling sky’s tears and its angry scratches

Are tucked safely in my happy  mind box


 Our farms gave us food

As streams quenched our thirst

The air had flings with the many trees

And whispered in the process

Goodness! And we were the beneficiaries of their passions


The farms had plants which smiled with opened palms

And had leaves swaying and  dancing

Even when we uprooted some

They served in diligence and love

Being the Boasiakos who gave their heads in loyalty to save mankind


Here I am

Missing their view

Missing their taste

Missing their nourishment

And deceiving myself of gaining class


I miss the scent of earth

I miss the scent of simplicity

I miss the beauty of the greens

I miss the times of young years

And I miss beings seeing me for me

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




A choice

To be the noise

The voice

Or live in the joys

And rejoice adds to his many apparels


The smile, could be a veil

The smile, could be a nice mask

The smile, could be a nice cologne

Hiding the scents of ache,

Insanities, yearnings for goodness, trials and tribulations


Most times, like a happy bird,

He chooses the veil of a smile

Most times, like a fiery bird,

He chooses the veil of smile

To pleasantly deceive not only beings but himself of happiness



Sometimes, like an outing clothe

He chooses the veil of smiles

Sometimes, like an expensive make-up,

He chooses the veil of smiles;

The treasure all need and some yearn for



Sometimes, as the comforter

He puts on the veil of smile

Sometimes, to relieve tensions

He puts on the sweet cologne of smiles

Sometimes to relieve the soul, he swims in the rivers of smile

He simply chooses that path to rejoice in the voice of smiles

Or like clothes, buys many facial coverings of infectious smiles

We can all take that path or get those fabrics to sow

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014

(Inspired by an owner of infectious smiles; Mr. Dey.)


Hunting Hawk


As fowls search for corn,

Hawks search for chicks

Eagles search for fowls

Some snakes search for eggs

Forgetting others’ search for snakes


As plants draw water, air and sunlight

Sheep and goats search for plants

Cows search for plants

Even dogs search for some plants

Forgetting others search for dogs


As cats search for mice

Lions search for cats

Tigers search for cats

All wild cats will never mind catching cats

Forgetting those they dread await


What’s the point?

Aren’t they all edibles of humans and earth?

Some saucepans boil most in their hot fury

For human satisfaction


If I consume you

What ails you ails me

Death consumes me

And the earth swallows me

What will be the point?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




The bald lonely tree 

Gets no sympathy from birds

Even when it is in pain


Birds chirp in dancing

Flying here and hopping there

No weather bother


The tree sits under

Be it hotness or coldness

No deliverance


Who sees its hot tears?

Who knows its coldness and fears?

Who can provide shade?


Poor, poor sad clothed tree

Sitting sadly solemnly

Take it all in faith


A saviour will come

One day when you least  expect

With pure protection

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014





Why will we work too hard to get cars,

Ignore walking

Thinking we sit in comfort

Think of our being

And pay to be told

Our prescription is walking?



Why will we throw away nature,

Taste every alien meal

Ignoring what it’s made of

Drink every alien drinkable

Think of our being and pay to be told

Our prescription is nature?


Now it dawns

Complications reign our nation

Complexities are hailed in cities

The life now is what everyone wants for a wife

Male or female alike

So we are homos in greed for the fashion of the day

Funny how to decay we say thoughtless yays!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



I am pepper

A red hot pepper

I can nausea repair

And can food prepare


 I am not dumb

So do not into me bump

Make me no water

To wash your dirty fingers


If I’m treated with respect

I’ll never you suspect

And my fire will be hidden

From your harm and make you warm

Amoafowaa sefa Cecilia (c) 2014












The earth sat millions of years ago

And ruled that he won’t take part

Of the competition between beings

And plants

And she resolved to watch


Then, the plants ruled

Their pests hunting beings down

Their trees killing beings instantly

Their leaves poisoning to depletion

And they smiled knowing they were winning


Fierceness like fire’s hotness

Possessed minds of beings

They brutally fell their trees

Killed their pets

And studied their leaves


Then lost in the wild,

The plant family are now getting lost in the sane

Their luck is their trait of beings’ sustenance

They would have been long gone

From this competition for real

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Once in the land of the wild

God staged a judgement in the mild

He called king lion

Who sought to sing to enter Zion

But sang the song of the murderous


The crowd cheered in happiness

Their terrorist has been fairly judged by His Holiness

They sang and praised

God’s name was raised

Until he asked for the judgment to continue



He called the beautiful peacock

Who smiled and hissed at the cock

She sexily walked and sexily talked

But ended in the books of the locked

For priding in beauty given


The crowd cheered minus the lion and her

The many boos was difficult for them to bear

Until God called the pious looking cat

Who went to sit on the judgment mat

He stole God’s meat and was immediately caught


Many cheered

Minus Lion, Peacock and cat who had erred

And so it went

Every animal was burnt

Until all was judged


At the end of trial

God became the villain of His own trial

All the animals who tried to his better judgment woo

Became the ones whose voices were heard in the loudest boo

Like the perishables, we all hide our dirt under our cover-cloths

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014



Croaking frogs sing in fear

Scared antelopes run to save their lives so dear

The pain in the owls’ voices, so clear

Nothing seems mere

In these times, in this jungle


Ants are hiding in their tiny holes

Snakes are hiding in borrowed anthills

The lions’ den is crowded by strangers

But the lions hunger is lost in fear

They hide behind their shivering meals


















Barks and many others collide

As darknesses run into darknesses

Shivering in fear


Fear of the earth which is shifting

Her body’s shadow squeezing

Her angry growl scares

Her class who have been naughty

Wish for spanks

But she has no whip, only anger

The most cowardly of her class;

Humans they call themselves

Have all collapsed.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014







I woke in the morning

To the calls of crowing

And loved the air blowing

And saw the trees swinging

I loved the birds singing

And loved the bush brushing

Happily, happily, to the stream I went singing


The stream kept waving

The rats kept strolling

The sun kept smiling

The dust kept dancing as mud houses kept perfuming

And when the clouds sought crying

I felt its blessings


Natures noise was soothing

Meditational moments handed on a platter golden

So how did I end up in all the hurting

Of noises and sounds made from chilling

And of pain made from hurting?

That was called village blissing

I do call this a city chaosing intp killing.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




Gentle sunlight tries hiding behind

The trees to no avail

Gentle rivers blow beautiful breezes

Which set the soul’s peaceful fantasy at sail

Breath in, Breath out and relax your brain

Worry is never in the land of this great read

Imagine the birds singing your lullabic chorus

And the air fanning your heat

And the leaves rustling to assure of their protection

A world where only you dwell


We are in the world of your thoughts

Guns can never chase you

Pain like a visitor insane

May try to stay there but chase it out

And it is out

The angels gather

Their wings are your shade

Close those eyes a little and think

Making sure you make the most beautiful garden

Where you can peacefully relax

In your mind, shhhhhhhhh

Rest there a while

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014




Streams sleep sad

Skies sit straight

Lands lie loathing

Our unthoughtful usage


Trees’ talks tell

Birds’ boos bell

Air actually angers

At our insensitivities


We destroy

Without thoughts,


Without planting,

We pollute

And laugh


We’re superior

To them



They say

Their renewed anger

May turn to collapse mankind.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014



Trees, trees

Family of trees

I wish you could live like bees

Together as one as each the other’s mind frees


Trees with leaves

Trees without leaves

Trees with flowers

Trees with fruits

Trees with colour

Colourless trees

Short trees

Tall trees

Please form a garden

By living as one.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




Leading to fashion



Leading to spending



Leading to thinking



Leading to sin



is neglected


While eating

Is imperative


Benevolent animals

With no sense, please help the ‘senseful’

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014





There is quietude in the midst of the noise

There is noise in the midst of quietude

There are humans amidst the inhumans

There are inhumans amidst the humans

No, there are the inhumans lurking in every human

Yours may spark with the light of materialism

His may spark in the light of the centre of women

Hers may spark with the quest for fame

Mine might spark with the quest to curb loneliness

Everyone has a spark of inhumanness stacked somewhere

A ball bounces back to its owner when it’s thrown to hit a wall

So wag the tongue in its enclave

If you know you will lock yours forever

One good turn deserves another, so does a bad turn

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


An oven when  the sun fumes

A freezer when the rain spews

Chaotic battlefield when tempers rise

Pauper worshippers without shame in the light

But true serenity stays in Tamale


Strong muscles dazzle at work

Loud voices call for customers

Angry consumers get into their own way

Fuming and cursing the patient ones

But affordable things parade at the Tamale market


Heads with strong paranoia:

Touchy about religion,

Touchy about ethnicity,

Manly minds overflowing with superiority abound

But one can touch humanity in the land called Tamale 


Tamale, my land of dreams

Tamale, where my hands are extended

Through the confusions of safety

I live, I breathe, I hope

Tamale, Tamale, I hope we grow.

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014





I’ll walk my life away

I’ll be seized from seeing day


I’ll shed this skin and bow

I can no longer chew my favourite cow


These bones, these knuckles

These stones will come off

This water

These nails

This blood will dry off

Some day

It will all make way

So why must I live with my thoughts slaying?

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


Technology has come to stay. Each day, there is a new invention, discovery, and history being made. Technology helps us, no doubt, but we agree it is one aspect of life which must be blamed for backstabbing and the ever increasing scamming.

Now families live in houses but their mouths have turned into their mobile phones, their hugs gotten from their soft pillows, their eyes always filled by the face of television and many of their friends found online. Many jobs are done haphazardly because even if there is a ban of mobile phones at work certain workplaces, minds still think of what could be going on in the world of the internet.

Now hands and minds well vexed in technology have the most power to cheat. Before your thoughts will settle, someone somewhere in this world might have stripped you of all your money. How do you beat that? Has the world created for itself a Frankenstein’s Monster which will turn any day to eat us?

I think we were better off when we were bush men. At least after hunting and farming, we went to our homes to eyes ready to look at us and listen to how our days went. We could get comfort by hugging real humans who cared and not mouthless and feelingless pillows, we could sit together, walk together, admire the world together without our lives being run by machines which we kill ourselves to buy.

I need to ask you these questions; yes you the reader, when was the last time you truly had a chat with someone you care about without letting some form of toy technology interrupt? Can you go for days without it? What happens if you lose your mobile phone or your tablet or your computer? When humans call, do you run as fast as you would when your phones ring? When was the last time you went out looking at the beauty of the sky, using your eyes to hunt for birds in the sky or looking keenly at the colours of the leaves which grow?

Now earthenwares have turned into blenders and firewood have turned into stoves, lanterns have the better option of light, advices are sought from television or the internet etc…

Sometimes it hurts me to live in this era. My addiction to the internet, my love for nature all mixed up in a conundrum of anxiety. As much as I try living in a place where my love for nature will not wane, there is this urge to stay indoors and cheat on nature with a computer. Well, my human relationships do not even ring a bell. I think this is not living. This is whiling away time until we enter the mouth of the earth. I just hope we will not regret then, because by all standards, being in the soil will come with its heat no matter the nature of our coffins.

 Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


 I have lost my way

I saw Ama

And I didn’t know what to say

She took Yaa’s man and made her single

Could it be karma at play?

She had her lips and cheeks

Soiled with blood

And her eyes blocked

With divided whiskers of rats

Her hands disabled

With claws of a tigress

With her head covered

By alien hair

Her skin was white

With drowning blackness

Fitted in a wool which hardly

Covers any of her assets

As she stood on a mountain

Of an uncomfortable wood

Holding a sack fit to carry a being

And acting like she owned the world


I looked around and spat

Hoping to wake from the nightmare

But she told me it was the trend

And she was at her beautiful best


I’m lost

When did madness

Become beautiful?

Oh poor, poor Ama

She must have exceeded

Bonkers’ line .

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


The same tick tock

Which grows the plant

Is the same tick tock

Which kills the plant


Every leaf, stem and stalk

Will dance to the tune

It grew to love

And learn to detest its hands and discipline


A time for one,

Tick tock will pass

And will never bother

To take a second glance


The plant which lasts

Is the one which boldly prints

And leaves its mark

For new plants to see


It doesn’t matter

The mode of exit

Tick tock will walk

Without a word

  Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014.#RIP ROBIN WILLIAMS



Exhausts venomously deplete

I cannot stand many’s tune as they fashionably compete

Unseen fumes from coolers happily maim

While inventions to revive crops have a common aim

Of hurting the rivers of my eyes

And changing its colours with their respective dyes

Bones of machines lie on my flesh and heavily pinch

The little hair left to protect, others lynch

Just to get my little pests which they deem sumptuous

They cut my precious horns without replacing, presumptuous?

You know best what I mean because you are the one they prune

You have your quick revenge because you give them your hot magic rune

Making them aware of your anger

My eyes sometimes swallow some of them in anger

Though I stretch and open my mouth to eat some in hunger

They care less about me and treat me like a stranger

While they live comfortably in my belly

They find ways to appease you and try to have my rivers as their ally

Greed for comfort makes them cut my body

Thinking they’re building palaces which are shoddy

I carry their load and their shoddy mansions

And give them no sanctions

But they still aim to kill me

What will their plan of living then be?

I am their vehicle

Without me there is no miracle

They will perish and vanish

Like the rain washes their writings on a board, “Your images, burnish”

I try to say but their excessive garbage they throw into my mouth

Static, I can go nowhere without them, north or south

They still remain in me

East or west in my belly they’ll forever be

But they really want to see to the end of our ruin.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


Here and there

We go

High or low

We flow

Winged in wizardry

They claim our show

But we are the planters

They chew

The singers

Who help their hearts soothe

And the beautifiers

Who fill their view


Our homes now keep them warm

Our foods they lick in pleasure

But have no pity

As they break our bones


One day we’ll stage a coup

With the help of the sky

To have them sleep eternally

To have our freedom

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


In your stead we stand

For your sake we band

To your satisfaction we hand

Our struggles with the land


For your healing we boil

For your effectiveness we toil

We make love to the soil

To make sure your mobility does not coil


So why are we shedding tears

At the hands of your machetes?

Why are we harbouring fears

At the tips of your inventions?

Why our fear of extinction

At your preferences of naught?


We are your foot-mats

And your sun hats,

We are your sustenance

And your breath

We are you, you can say you are us

Shall we hold hands to thrive?

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014.