CLEANER

The fingers traveling through the Korley Gonno of the nose
The hand weeding through the hidden land of the waist
The finger sweeping out debris of the eyes
Those hands blocking guttered whirlwind of sneezes from the nose and mouth
Those same hands scooping sweats in rains to a skin dryness
Ah the hands getting wet from the parting and holding
…for your wayside weeweeing
Why do you extend that for a greeting
When you know many germs are home to our body shedding?

II
Be self aware
In this mingling midst
Be others conscious
In this polite seeking mode
Be considerate to others comfort
We are densely hypocritical
… I know
Because dirt is what we are
But dirt is what we fear
Still, dirt can drive us faster to tombs
Than we did get into wombs
So try a cleaner you
For a saner we
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 6, 2019

YOU’D HAVE BEEN EIGHT TODAY

With every tick of the clock
The approach of your birthday
Dawns and overshadows me
Like a cloud taking over a warm sun
Your deep dimpled smiles and giggles
Acting background song
Tickling my sadness
Wetting my pillow

II
You wanted me to be a me
Who smiles to let you see
From a distant world
I hope I am building that pride in you
In wherever fate keeps as your resting place
The tears have turned occasional
Flowing on a day like today
When your birth crumps cut through my womb
With scissors of rememberance
To hurt
A day like today, your birthday
When the throat builds a fence to block everything liquid and solid
A day like today
When sanity takes a leave for insanity to rule
But I still live awesomely
Like the proud mother you knew

III
I keep thinking about the height you might have attained
I keep thinking of the weight you might have gained
I keep fantasizing on the speech you might have added
Your gestures and your delays
But the many a pain that might have strained your gains
Brake with nostalgic gratitude at your rest

IV
I miss you so much
Though I feel lighter that you’ve conquered pain
I love you so much
But I am grateful
Thinking of the better place you are
Days stretch the ways of pain
And I hope to get there
To that place, where your thoughts dig smiles
Instead of tears

V
Keep resting well my love
Keep shining bright my sun
Keep watching over my knight
Keep keeping track of my deeds my teacher
As I work to brighten your smiles
And go miles to fetch your laughs
In felicitation
Till we meet on the stage of our world beyond earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 5, 2019

SHUT ME DOWN FOR A MINUTE

I have been on for so long
…ki ki kikim
…gi di gigim
My oil has run out due to friction
My strength has zapped due to exhaustion
With critics piling their meanings
…on my doings
I am back at zero in productivity
So help shut me down
…like a computer
…only for a moment

II
Rest is a healing for the bruises of the heart
Rebooting is a thrilling for the needs of the mind
Clicking is a filling of the feelings of our soul
…worn by their spirits
So help shut me down
…like a computer
…only for a moment

III
For I am drowning in tiredness
I feel empty of will
I am spent in love
…looking at the over familiar face of life
I am weary with work
…my boldness arrested by the coldness of hate
So help shut me down
…like a computer
…only for a moment

IV
Shut me down
…please shut me down
Only for a moment
So I can rewake in a remade
…of brightness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 4, 2019

HOW DID UBUNTU FAIL?

The world, God’s gift,
Was originally a dwelling for all
Without demarcation
Without ownership
How humans heckled hostage
And carved supremacy to draw lines called borders
Made a funny video in my mind
Sanity made it understandable
Development made it beautiful
Until ownership turned vindictive
Murdering beings
In a nice x word, clothing a devilish doom
How did Ubuntu fail?

II
I thought Ubuntu spelt out compassion and virtues in humanity
I thought Ubuntu could turn mother
To hug all black lands in its bosom to blossom
I thought Ubuntu could one day turn African Anthem
To unite the black continent
Into a contender unbeatable
I thought Ubuntu could speak to hearts
Knowing no differences between colours so varied
And will never see a difference in shades of black
But here we are
In a horrifying horror
How did Ubuntu fail?

III
I can see the spirit of Madiba
Wailing the woes of guttered sacrifices
I see the shape of Africa
Writhing in painful deformity as uniformity loses form in shocking inhumanity
I can see the continent on the stage of insults
As fellow humans queer us brainless
I see sluggish souls selling South Africa
In the parcel of Africa
To the world as animals needing buyers
I see African Bosiakos battling death for a comeback
With fists of unfairness and disappointments
How did Ubuntu fail us?

IV
It is a simple matter of living as others live
It is a common sense of one world for all living
It is a human knowledge of home being where the heart leads
It is a common love of neighbours
That waters growth in every positive way
In a day when humans are like porridge mixed with sugar
On all grounds
How can we get here?
How did Ubuntu fail?

V
This naked madness needs a stopping!
This naked hurting needs a sane clothing!
This modeling horror needs no stage
On this struggling continent
For we know the “I am because we are”
We know none leaves the other behind
We know all the faces of Ubuntu
All the fingers of Ubuntu
All the senses of Ubuntu
And all its dictates
Let’s not allow Ubuntu to fail
In this love zone with equal bones in a colour
For we lose it all
If one calls out hatred as the other responds
That contagion can cripple us
Into a never rising
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 3, 2019

PURE EVIL

You came in like a weevil
Wheeling my emotions in a swivel
Hiding your claws of a devil
Only to cage me in your evil

II
Now you, to my pain, dance
As eyes record me a dunce
When all I did was take a chance
…based on your deceptive elegance

III
You’re like the devil
…your cruelty his effectiveness enhanced
You’re pure evil
…your con cunning in nuances
You’re a billy wily
…hosting a body snake which takes cakes
…and fakes quakes
…to blame your takes on

IV
But I will train my drain to refrain from your strain
…and drain your bane to heal from your cane
I will feign the sane to wriggle from your insane
And will gain a lane to erase your tattoed pain
Because a rain waits to wash my stain
And hard work will make it wane
…your evil Zain fading into a comfy AirtelTigo
…to transition into greatness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 3, 2019

A DREAM TO CHERISH

I traveled to a tomorrow I wish for us
One far from our back-walking yesterday
Misconstrued as today
And I see the over-worked heart of my nation
Palpitating in prolonged perspiration of the prognosis of corruption
Sadness, raining on my prayers

II
I wish I could make patriotism into a pill
And force all to take
In order to –
…overcome the urge to give or take bribe
…overcome the need in harvesting praises for no work done
…cut off strings of whom-you-know
…banish all forms of modeling corruption
…and partake in mending the heart
…of this beautiful nation
By choosing the best to work
…in the face of intimidation

III
We have all the tools
We have all the people
We are like the blessed earth in sleeping hands
It takes no magic to stop this tragic existence

IV
Tuning our minds to the channel of Can-do
…is all it takes
To change our tomorrow into the woman we see
…and chase
…in other nations
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 2, 2019

FEAR CONVERTS

Days when fear marched many –
…like cattle
…into the fences of many Yahwehs
…are over

II
Days when hell’s description
…forced hearts into cuffs of religion
…just as innocent people are forcefully imprisoned
…are so so over

III
So tell me about hell
And I will show you a shell of thick skin
Which fears no fire and needs no requirement
…to pass to death’s domain
Tell me about revelations
…and I will refer you back to my forefathers
Who lived peacefully without a Christ
If you are able to bring them back
…with their burns and sufferings
…and their marks and regrets
Then I might sit at the crossroads of thought
…at your words

IV
In this realm where one God is divided into millions in equal command
…all working with different beliefs
Why must each try a boasting of the best?

V
Love your God through your angels
And let others love their God through their gods
Only in the bosom of death
…will we get the answer to the right and the wrong paths
…to God Almighty
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 1, 2019

LITTLE BIRD

Little bird
…you’re no duck
…you’re no eagle
You’re a nameless little bird
…blessed with wings
So fly easy
…fly slowly
…fly rightly
So you don’t get swallowed by the sky
Your swiftness in flying high
…might cover your steps
…making none see you
…making many forget you
…in your high loss
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 31, 2019

KƆ KƆ HWƐ

We have the stories
Which can cure the sorries
And grow our glories
But we still live in ruin

II
As we live in the fence of religion
Which prevents us from seeing the beauty of hardwork
…outside
The castles whose stories can rustle hearts
And build our economy to a golden height
Are fenced by fecal matter
And guarded by robbers
Kɔ kɔ hwɛ is a boost for every country

III
There could be hotels to decorate our past
And turn them seeings to get our growth
There could be boats
…to grow excitement and plant seeds
…of needs of human impact

IV
Stand and work
Let our wealth fetch us more
Instead of hurting us to the core
Tell
…Our ears
…Underworking,
…Resting
…In our ruins to
…Sail onto the shores of sense to
…Move us from here
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 30, 2019

A PLEASANT PLACE

I had heard of the Sakura Flowers
Trumpeting technology
And greatly maintained culture
Before many miles in the sky brought me to your very grounds
Just an
Appealingly
Precious and
Amazing
New experience!

II
Many fine hearts wrapped in shy clothes!
Many indigenous tongues
…hidden in traditional languages!
Many disciplined bodies
…spiced by courteous moves!
Yoko has hammered my thrill on a cross of interest

III
With fine fine personalities in awesome company
Great great thoughts in nightingale songs
Arigato Gosaimas is my heart’s message
…to this land of cherry blossoms

IV
Naze?
From the Minato Mirai Area enchantment
To my cultural dances on display
On Asian feet
My cultural clothes hugging Asian bodies
Like a proud bird
I see many express my all to impress me to fall
…into fascination
More awe to my grateful core
Daisukidesu!

V
You’re built on trust without a doubt
You’re adorned with beauty
…in your many a city
You’re growing in strength
…which can’t be measured in length
You’re all the dreams that scream to gleen
Oh you beautiful city in a strategic realm making a time traveler
Traveling back to my yesterday

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia August 29, 2019
Poem Title by Grace Ihejiamaizu

DETERMINED

I have jumped through the windows of my heart
After its doors were shut by pain
…and the keys thrown into the sea of disappointment

II
I have maneuvered through the ceiling of my mind
After its doors and windows
…were nailed unopenable
…by hounds of hurts

III
I have shed the skin of my spirit
…bleached the sadness of my soul
Scrubbed the pain of my body
Putting ears and eyes and heartbeats on each
In wait for you

IV
All you need is a little call
…a soft whistle
…a gentle knock
…a small wave
…a knowing smile
And one will join one to remain one
…blending heartbeats
…with the clapping of headbeats

V
So make an effort
And like a ghost or a spirit
…a scare or a fair
Appear
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 28, 2019

THE ME OF WE

Since I started withdrawing the me
…in our we
…I see the sea of tears
…whose sharks of fears
…stalked my growth

II
Since I started withdrawing the me
…from our we
The crocodile of nervousness
…which threatened my sleep
…has left me free

IIb
The crabs of hurts
…which migrated into my intestines
…magically sailed out
Leaving my belly bright

IIc
The cloud of jealousy
…which formed on my proud mind
…sometimes raining and flooding my heart
…into a sad drowning
As other suffering parts questioned its importance
…has cleared

III
Since I started withdrawing the me
…from our we
Unseen blessings have become like gigantic billboards
My grateful acknowledgment
…multiplying them in helpful folds

IV
So I am splitting a permanence
…of our we
…into a you and I
So you can pursue this bliss of your me
…on freedom grounds
I may get a me which will make the me into a we
…which will make me see and be a me
…instead of a we
That is the ultimate recipe for happiness
…in coupling
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 27, 2019

LET ME DRIVE YOU

I want to be your chauffeur today
I will drive you to the site of your flutters
…to dig out your shocking mutters
I will drive you to the island of your passions
…to gift you memorable reactions
I will drive you to the shores of your screams
…to fish out the wows in your dreams
So let me
…let me drive you

II
Let me drive you
…drive you to the church of your merry
…to bow to the Virgin Mary
Let me drive you
…drive you to the school of deviance
…to fetch your naughty tool
We can then play the bull
…I am a good rider

III
I will steer you
…steer you like the best of vehicles
Blasting your booms from your zooms
…putting all your specs to good use
…acting as your never failing muse

IV
So let me
…let me be your driver
From the ignition of your ears
…to the brakes of your waist
…right to the accelerators of your soles
I will work them all
…yes, work them all
If you put me in that seat
…your driver’s seat
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 26, 2019

CRUMBS FOR THUMBS

See the wealthy
…oblivious of their wealth
Wearing skins of poverty
…and acting poor
Dumbs beg crumbs to gift their thumbs
…ignoring the harms

II
Oh guinea fowls acting domestic chickens
…left roaming during the day
…and caged at night
Forget not dark holds many an ink
…to plan your harm
Stop being dumbs begging crumbs to sell your thumbs

III
I laugh in disgust
…seeing lions turn cats
…tigers turn dogs
…elephants turn mice
…eagles turn owls
All serving those who need to them serve
Why are you acting dumbs
…begging crumbs to stamp your thumbs
…for your imprisoning fence?

IV
In this case
…where prayers prey on the prayed for
…and sluggishness sells solutions in strong deceptions
…killing hard work in minds of many
As several creeping animals invade our anthills
We are in a well called hell
…where even the yelling
…of common sense will get no hearing
No wonder we’ve turned dumbs
…scrambling for crumbs
…to freely dish out our thumbs
…as mandate of our caging

V
As our seers have been painted blind
And our gods have been dressed Satanic
We are like lost ants
…guardless
So our eyes have been pointed
…to our self ugliness
Our ears have been tuned to
…others’ greatness
Words have been written on our tongues
…detailing the need for us to be led
…as we can’t possibly know our own lands
…talk less of leading by ourselves
So we live like chickens
…acting dumbs and awaiting crumbs
…even if those crumbs need the severance
…of our thumbs
A new awakening is clearing the dark clouds, excitingly
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 25, 2019

BODICTATION

Do you make up
…to shake up
A city
But end up
…a scare who flares human flight?
Then check it

II
It could be that you’re a lesser anteater
Whose body needs ash and lime
…to squash a stash of nose blows
So like an elephant
…be self aware
…and work to clear your demons

III
It could be that you’re a skunk
The fumes of your perfumes noses find inconsumable
Anytime mouth begins its work
Charcoal the brɔdeɛ ti
Scrub the hub to hush the harsh

IV
It could also be the language your body writes
On the screens of others
Pride fetching a hide
Ego?
…A hate bingo!

V
So let’s do a bodictation
Checking our wretch to stop our wrecks
We are afterall
…humans charting a path with forward eyes
…only eyes in watch can tell the crookedness of our bodiworks
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 24, 2019

WHAT IS FAIR

Feed the cattle back their milk
Give the dogs back their barks
Hand the silkworms back their silk
Give the trees back their barks
Put the carnassials back in the mouths of the pride of lions
Leave the blind to search their own Zions
That’s what’s fair!

II
Turn time into a truck
And drive back to the age of deceit
When cruelty struck
To innocence, like an armless dove, defeat
Charm those who caused the harm out of their graves
To sing a regret song that saves
…and paves way for a going back
That’s what is fair!

III
No matter how intelligent a mind is
…it can sit not on pate to receive greetings
Sins of the fathers scar their sons
…oh crosses no one else can carry!
So go back and place dignity
…in the bowl of history

IV
A dying peacock
…which inherited its ails from its parents
…can blame none other than its ancestry
So let them who sleep at the junction of their waist
…waste no time in accusations of extinction
Let them use their trees in between the crossroad of their thighs
To bear more fruits in competition
If the skills are lacking
Let them seek from the blessed abundance
…in humility

V
Fairness is paying a debt
…even if your head is the cost
Fairness is knowing the unfair
…and owning up to your share
There are roots easily uprooted
…after gaining grounds
Still, there are roots unuprootable
…when they gain grounds
So let barking dogs turn cats for a second
To help their ears work with their thoughts
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 23, 2019

YOU LOOK LIKE MY HOME

You there –
…looking so darkingly fair
Can’t you see my interest
…caught in the rays of your awesome shine?

II
You there –
…making me fidget like a bad queer
…looking like a treasure in a dream land
Can’t you see me searching your eyes
…amidst the many star bugged ones looking?
How are you doing this?
You sure look like my home

II
I can see the lawn of tenderness
…on your awesome frame
I can see the light of care
…in your gait
I feel the bricks of responsibility
…in your build
I can hear the sound of love
…coming from your home theatre
And I see a big heart through the bulbs
…in your bathrooms
Promising empathy for mistakes unborn
Pointing at flushing them into forgiveness
And measuring you with my perfection tape
The level of temperamental shakes
…is up to my loving level
So why are you standing
…staring around
…and frightening my dreams?

III
Look here and throw me the keys
Please look here and throw me the keys to you
All those keys to open every part of you
I’ve already extended mine for your fetch
Jump on the time
…and pull me along
In living us to the glory of our time

IV
Did the taillights just pass me by?
Sad
…that simplicity has been gobbled down by sophistication
I have to train to refrain from this main machine
…acting bane and running insane at your sight
I lose again in the world of beauty
Wandering on in hope of another spark
…like yours
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 22, 2019

CLONES

Sparrows wearing arrows
…scenting sorrows
…heading hollow zones
Force to be no clones

II
If the metamorphosis of snow
…into water
Is forcing possibility of a fish
…birthing a bird
…on a rope of deceptive analogy
Then wash your minds with spring water

III
Just as cats won’t develop wings to fly
…pigs won’t turn snakes to scare
…chickens won’t turn horses to gallop
A scarecrow can never run after thieves
…in a bush farm

IV
Even chickens flee
…when hawks visit with love
Will ducks prepare a meeting with eagles?
So sparrows will forever wear sorrows
…if they fly on skies
…fetching them arrows
And their destination will be a fated to fail horror
…in a hollow ground

V
Be ye advised
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 21, 2019

GODDESSES PAIRING GODS

Grow gutsies gunning gains
…in glad games of great gold
…to get the gifts of goddesses pairing gods
…and not goddesses pairing gross

II
Wing winners without wanes of wins
…without weapons to wrench wings off wins
…with no wickedness working a wreck
For wills work well with we

III
Bought brutality breeds bad bosses
…breaking bones of bests
…beating brains in bright
…beasting bears of bliss
While boasting betters of the broken

IV
Live and let’s live
…don’t live and let others leave
For living will be lonely
…and long
…if lifers cut loose lives
…with lurking loopholes

V
Grow the great to be greater
Wing the wingless to pair the winged
Banish brutality in broken brutes
Love is like light in the dark
…it works wonders in winning most worsts
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 20, 2019

SAD SIGHTS

Begin
…emancipating
…gross
…gainers
…at
…roadsides
…suffering

II
The dressing of the nation
…determines its addressing in other nations
So seeing buttocks turned legs
…as burdened hands beg by roadsides,
Seeing rotten eyes
…turning in eyelids
…as hoarse voices sing sad sad tunes
…like Job at do or die jobs
Being given notes that read a plea
…for feeding fee
…for a deaf and dumb
Are no beautiful clothes for a continent
…in sights of visitors

III
Care for the vulnerable
…is the first plus of every Supreme entity
Because vulnerability is a door
…which attracts pests
…when left ajar
Let’s not make these sad sights
…part of our tourist attraction

IV
Let’s think for those who have lost their thoughts
Let’s be the hands and legs of those who have lost theirs
…training the willing to be fed a fair deal
Let’s be the eyes of the visually impaired
Let’s be the voices of the soundless
To help repair our image
…on minds of the visiting
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 19, 2019

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, described now with the antonyms of perfect
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
Those 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 a lion’s 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

A BAD RUMOUR

It starts in the enclosed space of a mouth
…like stolen food munched by a skilled thief
Then it passes through the meandering contours of the oesophagus
…where ready way side ears wait with their ready mouths
…and ready plates calling for a selling pan
They follow in quadrupling folds
…by the time it reaches the first sphincter
…each grabbing a part to happily stain

Ib
The widening audiences
…embellish with gastric juices of added untruths
By the time it passes through the duodenum
…and mixes with the digestive enzymes of inducing anger
…from the pancreas
Sour bile will fry it into stew with added shocks of disgust
In preparation of your dégringolade

II
The good in your mould would be absorbed
…from it by the liver
…by the time it reaches the large intestine
And serve you through the rectum
…at the full glare of eyes you revere
Making you dine with noisy flies
Which will spare nothing to inform all others
…about their new addition

III
Like a surrounded soldier on a battlefield
…it takes courage to stand
…let alone lift your head
…to shoot your shame
…to maintain your dignity
That it is how it is
…a bad rumour
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 31, 2019

IT MUST NOT HAPPEN AGAIN

It must not happen again:
The barbaric facts
…of humans turning monsters
…to treat other humans like animals
…for their selfish mortal desires

II
It must not happen again
…the trapping and hunting
The catching the whipping
The painful transplanting and torturing
…overworking and murdering
It must NOT
It must NEVER happen again

III
It must not happen again
We must make sure of it
We –
…those who have gained roots outside our fence
…and those whose pain have watered their lives within
Like kɔtɔkɔ –
…we must rise in our numbers to combact
…the poisonous infection of drugs
…murder the degrading branding of crimes
…wash off the stunting appeal of laziness
…and switch on the light of hope
On our yesters’ stolen
While driving out the doom of corruption within our mother fence

IV
We must wipe out the characteristics
…of diasporean intimidation
And the Afri self righteousness
Which clash to alienate one from the other
Blocking hugs and togetherness
For a vice versaring benefit

V
For a body cannot run from its shadow
And no matter the dark that hides a shadow
It follows its body no matter its flight
Remembrance must only be a tap for hard work
…and not hatred
For hatred is like a full time job
…which can consume the time of progress

VI
We must bond in a fondness
That will fan our ancestral worries to wonders
We have to hold hands of our hearts
…and yoke words of our mouths
To light our many talents
For we are fire and fuel
None lights without the other
We are skies, suns and moons
…we will always need each other to shine
…on this here earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 30, 2019
Inspired by Mr. Andrew’s Kuusiemeh

IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Friction fires fights among friends
…and fuels feuds
Fickle fronts fume feeble fits
Freeze friction
Free feelings
…in friendly favours
For forces that function
…feel fevers of fiery-clashes

II
Defrost fury
…in a delightful hurry
Ditching sorry
…in dining worry
Drawing dears into darling dwellings
For loving swellings

III
Feed no fridge your feelings
…to face your fears
Write no rights
…to work your ways
Tongue and teeth
…are like trading twins
A bite, a breaking
…sell no abandoning
So thaw angst
…before it burst
…into destructing dumps
For immediate release
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 29, 2019

THROUGH THE GATES OF HELL

I’ve walked through the gates of hell
Without even a wailing well
Life, like a wicked trader, did me needs sell
In a struggling shell
Always rising through the fell
Heeding determination’s bell
To think I’ve lived to this tale tell…

II
Who am I to say
I’ve lived to dues on end pay
Before seeing this ray
…this day?
None builds it in a day-
…life’s notable hay

III
Now I fill my little purse
Beating the curse
…of tasting the hearse
…before my second but one less
…of decades mess
I am playing well life’s chess

IV
I have tasted different rages
…felt fears on many struggling pages
…cried in cringing cages
Been shamed on sorrowful stages
…told off by stalking sages
Living on next to naught wages

V
There was a time I nowhere fitted
There was a time I many things quitted
There was a time I tasted pits
…so dark that they wrecked my wits
I have felt torn in bits
And been asked, in high places, for permission chits

VI
Now I am here
A place with listening ears
A space with less fears
Having cried most of my tears
In mass arrears

VII
So live
…live through it all
…the rise through the fall
Till the cheers!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©July 28, 2019

BEARDY

Keep what you can tend to
…not what will turn you into a ball of madness
Don’t keep a zoo
…if you can’t do the do
…of caging the raging
…or killing the murdering

II
Your chin is like a forest
Where many little animals pop to live
Always hunting your skin
Hoping other skins touch to give
…if you keep a beard

III
So you need a bathing pesticide
…morn for day
…evening till dawn
To drive bold scents from the highway of your face
You need a potent detergent
To kill the unseen livers
…travelling through Jaws and nose
…eyes and ears to head
…chest to waist
…off you

IV
You need a trimming protector
To keep your style and beliefs
…attractive and tidy
All fear epidemic forests
None explores an ebola zone in self love
Burn or weed if you can’t neatness feed
None was born with a beard
…death without it is no crime
Owura
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 27, 2019

MOTHER IN LAW

Mother in law
Please be no monster in loathing
…scaring an innocent as cats scare mice
Mother in law
…be no bore
Your words cut deep into sores
Breaking the decorous bones of my jaws
Your claws in paws defile the law
…in your name’s core

II
Mother in law
…a first love loves a love from the strange
…to gift her seats of comfort
…to build a care umbrella
…to protect the centre of attraction
She is like the air in the heat of friction
…the heat in the cold of restriction
…making sure 1+1 remains one
…clearing distracting afflictions

III
So don’t be a tigress
…turning a beautiful home into a jungle
…chasing nothings into flaws
…and digging in with your claws
It is an abomination
…for a man to find pleasure shelter
…in a hole which pushed him to life
…night after day and before dawn

IV
Wilting flowers need to share their sunshine
…and rains and air
For the blooming to beautifully brighten
…to leave a mark of love
…and a cycle of giving
…watering love after love
…in a generational heritage
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 26, 2019

THE WAY TO RIGHTNESS

The way to rightness
…is full of sharp stones of hurts
…thorns of accusations
…broken glasses of queerness
…sharp nails of castigations
…haunting aura of loneliness
Its end is hell with fires of unbending tags

II
It could come with slaps of annoyance
…spittle of “the norm”
…urine showers of conceited name calling
…poverty’s imprisonment
…prestige’s banishment
With friendships turning bullets
…to shoot through gun relatives

III
The road to right deeds
…gifts hunger of weirdness
…thirst of shame
…baggage of tiredness
…with clothes of doubts
In bee stings of uncertainties

IV
Why choose this hard road?
Why put this fragile and tired body
…through this torture?
Humans are but replaceable mortals
…on this immortal land
This immortal land whose fingernails of change
…can be cut
…but will grow back long before rot touches a fallen body
…beneath the skirt of the earth
I guess a clean conscience is worthy
…compared to all the fears associated with fetching right waters into right barrels
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 25, 2019

HERDSMEN

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

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

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

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

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

LESSONS UNLEARNED

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TACTICAL

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