I AM A STUDENT

I am a student
A student is I
Who dresses like a brushed kangaroo
With eyes of a determined eagle
And the spirit of a meek sheep
Hoping to be strong in mind like a blessed ant
To grow in wisdom as giraffes grow in neck

II
I am a student
A student is I
Who fears the scent of dangerous smoke
Abhors the curiosity of treasures hidden in skirts as a he
And fertile trees hidden in trousers as a she
For I know hidden treasures for the former
Are traps of eternal doom
And fertile trees as the latter
Are nothing but dangerous snakes

III
I am a student
A student is I
Who is like a learning lawyer
Practising what is preached to me
In annals of guidance
Obeying voices of the siren
Going when it instructs
Coming when it says so
Eating when it orders
Sitting to learn when it commands
And sleeping when it barks
For only in that do I see a future
Where I climb mountains of success
To have the power to attract minds
Like the siren’s voice

IV
I am a student
A student is I
Who burns oil of sleep like thinking sages
Letting my mind travel through mating words
Arranged horizontally into verticalism
Searching their voices through pages
To light the bulb of enlightenment
In my growing mind
And learning from the mistakes of leading feet

V
I am a student
A student is I who knows
The future holds blank vacancies
And my acts today secures for me my deserved
So I could be a black sheep if I act like a goat
And could be a nation’s knight
If I act like a sheep hoping for wisdom wings

V
I am a student
A student is I
Who blesses family
To bless a society
Blesses a society to bless a nation
Blesses a nation to bless the world
Blesses the world in my breathing time
To guide the future of tomorrow
When the lids of my eyes
Taste moths
And blends with earth
I am a student
A student is I
Who cares for all students to be students
To make our future the brightest stars
The world has ever known
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2017

FRIENDS

They act like foes

Hitting truths like nails

They hug like bears

Chasing pains and fears

They share the weight

Of sad and troubled thoughts

They compliment without prejudice

Play without attitude

They laugh without the weirds

And care without much stress

Real friends

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

PAINT US COLOURLESS

DSCF1115

Paint us colourless

Former and builder, please paint us colourless

Let us be like water

Seeing each of our shadows in us to the latter

To make our hearts reason better

II

Paint us colourless

Master Craftsman, oh Great Artist

Let us be like mirrors

Seeing our reflections in each other to the latter

To make our judgements objective and better

III

Paint us colourless

All Knowing Seer

And trash the theory of labelling and racism

Let us be like each other, bouncing hurts to make senders taste

To make peace the king  in this realm

IV

Paint us colourless

Make us colourless

Mould us colourless

Colourless is what will shave our claws

And make our hands shaking-worthy

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

MANDELA’S MOSQUITOES

I think a mosquito bit Nelson Mandela
An anopheles mosquito
He caught it
But saw it as waste
If he killed a mosquito which could not give him back his blood
And so he let it be
Such a mistake it was

II
So this mosquito went ahead to breed
And bred barbarisms
Lazy cocoons who blame everyone but themselves
For their woes
And so repulsively rebel

III
They demand for knives
Of those who hold their lives
When all they’ll do is butcher
And can’t save a rat
Oh how shameful

IV
To think that those contouric heads
Have nothing better to show
For the blood they took
Who peacefully let them be
Could it be the mosquitoes are on ganja?

IV
Look at the parasites without plans
Acting like Egyptians hurting Israelites
When they know they have a Moses
Whose ordinary stick can plague their land
Ignoramuses!

V
They are breaking their foundation
What will become of a bowl
With a hole so big?
Like owls feared in superstition but mortal
The south mosquitoes will realise too late
Their flaws when the potent mosquito sprays are set on their territories
Too bad it will bomb them
Together with their regret
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

THE RUTHLESS POLICEMAN

panpan.deviantart.com
panpan.deviantart.com

Who gave it breath?

To eat and live

And act like the wolf

Which eats beings without fangs?

II

Who gave it eyes

To see all colours

To judge and harm

Souls of beings with no known knives?

III

Who wore it clothes

To make it perfect

To taunt all beings

Who’re being flogged by poverty?

IV

Who gave it arms

To force and tie beings

With the aim of stifling

To seize most breaths?

V

Who gave it those unseen fangs

To destroy at a glance without mercy?

I just had to ask again

Although it does some good,

It is the ruthless policeman of all times

What beings call society

Is now the caretaker of all mentalities

Causing fear and panic among responsibles

Knowing not what troubles

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

PROTHIEFICS (TANKA)

images

I have thoughts to say;

Lion as chief of the forest

Concatenates to

Loss of smaller animals

In the forest of Hanah

II

I’ve more thoughts to say;

Leopards and hyenas know it

But are afraid to

Stir the nest of fearful bees

Others think their stomachs precious

III

I still have more thoughts

Coterminously, many

Are in cahoots with

The lion for some crumby share

And you’ll think it so unfair

IV

I dare you to step

In their shoes and know your fate

You will dance to tunes

Like fetish in possession

Now, tongues wag like mine, pretense?

V

We’ll all sit and wait

While the lion eats fat, too bad

We won’t live to see

The extinction of our peers

And the chewing of grass by lions

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015

SEASON VISITS EYES, POCKETS AND HEAT

ghana_flag_a

Who is there?

Oh all are here!

I see the things

Which Christmas brings

But my pocket cries out

And my mouth does pout

II

Who sees it?

Oh all feels it

Many are those 

Who’ll think of overdose

To end the shame

And get a loose name

III

Who is happy?

Oh the sit-and-eats

Who cares about money

When all they need is honey?

They sit and wait

To eat until late

IV

Who will enjoy?

Oh Pastors with joy

For all will give

And all will leave

God’s coffers sits

Crying to be liberated into their pits

V

Who will suffer?

Oh all will suffer

From the foot=mat wives

Whose meals delay

To the hungry child

The streets beget

VI

Who will feel the heat?

Oh all without generators

For ECG tightens his belt

Every watt for two dark pelts

Don’t be alarmed,

It is to check deaths

VII

So flow to the village

Drink from the Densu River

Eat from Assase Yaa

Inhale from the noses of green plants

And let the flies lick your buttocks

Who knows, the gods of your land

Might just reveal your heirloom

And save you from this misery

Or worst, make you a stooge master!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

WALLS

www.contemporaryindianart.com
http://www.contemporaryindianart.com

Beaming bricks bear balls of bests

Blistering bricks bear blows of bills

Brimming sorrows of loneliness and pain

Tears like rain in terrible torrents

Fall on the latter whose mouth is sealed

And has eyes which can’t be concealed

The former’s life is but a hall of smiles

Success reigns and honour calls loud

In its temple of happy memories

Sometimes tears seep from the bodies

Of the blistering bricks making them hard

I know my bricks blister in pain

But will surely bear the best when my body catches up with time

Smile, so will yours

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014

BLEEDING THOUGHTS OF CHRISTMAS

en.wikipedia.org
en.wikipedia.org

I

am shivering

thinking of the fowls

many will be slaughtering

forgetting the children hunger will be slaughtering

II

I

am crying

thinking about

boxing day of gifts

and the many children pain will be boxing

in a session of reminiscence where giving must reign

III

I

am yearning

for hearts which will

open like the lotus flower

to disinfect and embrace the pains

of others in this season of love and happiness

IV

It’s

Pathetic,

The many drunks,

Pervert swimmers

Chain smokers

Greedies

Who linger

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

MY CHI

BIRD

I live in that song

Among all who long

Up on the Pong breeze

II

Chi,

Chi chi chi chi

A bird is my chi

So there are many dangers

I can’t smoke like the gangsters

Lest the smoke brings in hunters

I can’t fly so high

Lest I’m shot by guns

I can’t walk long on earth

Lest I am caught by animals

I hang here and there

I sit here and there

Suffocation

Tiredness

Fear

Why

Me?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

AFRICAN BOASTERS (SUCCESSIVE CLERIHEWS)

map_of_Africa

Professor Yaw Darko

Hated Mr. P aul Arko

He claims he copies westerners

While he epitomises Africanness

II

He wears African colours

And hates all foreign “shudders”

He speaks in African tongue

And so feels among

III

He fights Mr. Paul Arko

Who is not like he Darko

Because he wears foreign

And drives cars like he is soaring

IV

Ei! Darko gets some money

And gets a car to get some honey

Before any African style could speak

He has reached his foreign peak

V

And so his people asks him

Why are you now called Tim?

He thinks aloud

And shouts, money maketh foreign

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

CORRUPTER’S PILLOWS

images

In the pillow of the corrupt are;

Tears of orphans,

Pain of unemployment

Harshness of depression

Sins of the unaffectionate

Aggression of the youth

Future babies of robberies

Future hardened prostitutes

Perpetrators of kidnappers

Negligence

Injustices

Bribery

Lateness

Deaths

Amidst others

In that pile, I wonder they leap sleep

To many mornings

Knowing their punishments await

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

INFANTILE STREET PRISON

orphans

In the silence of sound

I shiver thinking around

Motherless, fatherless

Infants dining with streets

Gaining nothing. Heartless

Vampires preying and feasting

As mosquitoes crave pounds

Of their flesh, bedbugs too feast

II

Some wombs cry for these,

Yet need those moulded from

Their haemoglobin. What is

The difference between them?

They are:

Fresh breakable minds left unprotected,

They are;

Hungry sorry stomachs left unfed,

They are;

Cold fragile bodies left unclothed

And are;

Homeless lost souls left unsheltered.

III

A hungry child, will be angry in future

If he rebels, many will fall at his hands

If she rebels, a whole generation would

Get mind viruses without antiviruses

IV

Mama, papa, brothers and sisters

Please open your eyes to arrest the street

Helping rescue at least one of these

Their souls call, from the dungeons of neglect

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

INFANT LONERS

tadpole

I am a tadpole

A tadpole made to be a frog

My safe place is a cave in some safe river

But I thread where sharks and cat fishes hunt

Just to feed

My pole can’t swim far

But what can I do?

I came from somewhere

I know I came from somewhere

Yet it seems I was thrown away like rubbish

I was never taught where the water heats

I was never taught where the river runs deep

I know there are sharp teeth everywhere

My only equipment is my size

Even sympathetics do little

And I know there are many like me

They feel cold

Hungry

Lonely

Sad

And searching for rare food

But their calls

Yield no results

I’m a tadpole

Given a frog brain

By neglect

I see painted frogs

I see frogs, fat from food

None seems to notice me

A sad world it turned out to be

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

NO CHRISTMAS FOR GHANA (CRAZY STANZAS)

GHANA PROTESTS

I

Light is a rare visitor

Money is a haunter

Hunger is the landowner

And pain is the comfy seat

Of Ghana, my Ghana

II

A Cedi today,

Ten Cedis tomorrow

A promise today,

A hiding tomorrow

Demonstration in succession

Courts and orders

There’s no Christmas for Ghana

Not for Ghana, my Ghana

III

Delicious foods

Have fled houses

To play on televisions

To flame hunger

Mouths are talking

But who is listening?

“Yentiee obiaa”

Lumba has sealed it

Who thinks of Christmas?

When the stomach rumbles?

No Christmas for Ghana, not for my Ghana

IV

Poor young souls

Think of nice clothes,

Think of sweet candies,

Think of nice meals,

Poor young ones

Hardly do they know

There’s no Christmas for Ghana

Not for Ghana, my Ghana

hungry

V

No Christmas for Ghana

Inflation of passions!

No Christmas for Ghana

Oh mixed reactions!

No Christmas for Ghana

Pockets with no actions!

No Christmas for Ghana

We’ve reached unfair sanctions!

And the real pure Ghana of the Rurals weep

Too bad, they weep for the Ghana few are keeping

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

BLEEDING MOODS

thoughts

I

When dogs bark at night

And owls hoot in support

And thunders shout in fright

Worry infested thoughts explain

“This is pure witchraft

How can this be?

Dogs are barking

Owls are hooting

Thunders are striking

They’re surely out to get me”

Interpretations about with mood

II

Let there be peace

Let there be health

Let there be wealth

Let there be a companion on the right hand

And happy possessed thoughts explain

“These night beings

They feel it all

Happiness

Love,

Luck and all

They surely smell from the night”

Interpretations about with mood

III

Don’t let your mood

Give your thoughts food

It might be good

It might be bad

When you are in a mood

Be sure to be a brooding brood

We don’t need our mood

Overtaking our good

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

MISSIONS WITH VISIONS

www.baylor.edu
http://www.baylor.edu

Hardly a day goes by

That abysmal suffering fails to make beings sigh

But you work and work

Uniting families

And fixing cracks in the lives of children

And those who need it most

A smile is your payment

Laughter is your per diem

A hug is your motivation

But God above sees it all

And knows your reward

More strength, I send your way

More blessings to make your enemies decay

More lives to make death delay

For your likes’ hearts are worthier than pure gold

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

My heartfelt gratitude goes to all people who go on mission to help the poor and needy, especially in Africa. May God richly bless you!

TWISTING TWISTS

twisted

I

A loan for your blood

Genius!

Unbuyable yet sold

Money beats blood

II

Food for your sanity

Amazing!

Abstract yet sold

Hunger beats thoughts

III

Love for your peace

Preposterous!

Precious yet sold

Loneliness beats peace

IV

We know not what we want

We sit and think

We think and regret

We regret too late

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

PURE ANGELS

orphans

“Kokrokooooooo

Ade akye oooo”

The static bell of the cock in wake

I ask:

Are motherless children happy?

Did they sleep well?

Have they no fears?

Fears of impending danger,

Hunger,

Thirst,

Loneliness,

Ridicule

Forced labour?

Are there many thinking of them?

Are there many wanting to wipe their fears?

Are there many to give them hugs?

I, one in their future,

Feel their pressure

Why did I have to have only two hands?

Why did I have to have only a body?

Not fair

These injustices

Against pure angels

Injustices, which make Satan possess the lot

To haunt the now and future world

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

WEALTHY HEALTH

health-promotion-industry

I

The poor cry wolf

And sees no wealth in health

The rich sleeps not

And hopes for peace like the poor

II

Two eyes

Walking legs

Working hands

Ungrateful mouth

III

Every blessing deserves a praise

Who helps an ingrate

Who sees not the little things

And nags as the wounded dog with flies wags its tail?

IV

Give praise

For health is wealth

Health with great breath is great wealth

Count it all in praise

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

UNFEELING (TANKA)

EYE OF THE LORD

I

Lightnings strike and bright

Thunders of  stomachs rumble

Drought mouths fight the breeze

As their eyes rain cats and dogs

Hunger gnaws at their in-beings

II

Weakness is their king

A look; all it takes to know

But none seems to see

Those who see, follow strict rules

Hunger must bite lazy hands

III

Can’t rules be bended

Where tiny hands are concerned?

Lord God have mercy!

Can’t collateral be age?

Some chests surely have no hearts

IV

Man-made machines drive

Their cause and numbs their feeling

Mercy! Mercy! Please work hard

Work hard to arrest these hearts

And let these life virgins be

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014

SAUCY STEW

 

stew simmering

Simmering stew stands smiling

Sending sweet scents

Scents sent as swords to silence stomachs

Stomachs scattered by scanty scoops of cereals

Scudding surreptitiously in outstanding signals

Sealing sadness like sexy serpents to unsuspecting stomachs

Stomachs seriously searching for strength to save

Searching seriously for a savior who comes with scents

Silly scoundrel! You simmering stew!

Sending signals which shatters the sane

While sitting soft spoken in a shaded sealed shade

Like a shiny diamond in the dark

Save the suffering!

Stop your scents!

Taunt not the haunted

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

HEAR THE CHILDREN WEEP

eye of the lord orphanage

A sponge for many bodies

A room for countless beings

Tea without milk

Fetched with fingers like soup

None waits for the train moves

And the latecomer is left hungry

No toothbrushes because none can afford

They are the children of the present

Unfortunate to have been left by their mothers

Unfortunate to have been thrown away

Unfortunate to have their mothers answer their calls of fate

Their classes are smoke’s den

Their classrooms, sand’s territory

Their pomade happens to be shea

Which sits in a cup

See them sleep with no age measure

As young ones pee on the old

Who but God keeps their hearts?

Sad how they smile through it all

As watchers cry tears of blood

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

(Wrote this after watching the children of the Eye of the Lord Orphanage and how they lived. This piece was written amidst tears. I could not share it then, but I’m sharing it now. Let all who can help get in touch with Utv and help)

THINK OF ME

poverty

Think of me

Me who sleeps

Sleeps in filth

Filth which reeks pain

Pain which kills

Kills innocent souls

Souls which help

Help in shaping this world

World of chaos

Chaos which makes way

Way for more suffering

Suffering of sadness

Sadness which kills

Kills the soul

Soul which leads

Leads to the spirit

Spirit of the ancestors

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

WILL THE POOR BE SAVED

hunger in Africa

Will the poor be saved?

No! No! No! And No!

They will never be saved

No matter their struggles

Most will fall at the hands of poverty

Because they are businesses

Businesses of some unscrupulous dudes

Who profit at their sufferings

And revel in their misery

The dirtier the better

The more pathetic, the richer they become

Children try to chase hunger in their stomachs

And fail miserably

While sweats for their keep are boiled and drunk by the satisfied

O ye helpers of the destitute from afar!

Please hear my pathetic pleas

See, touch and heal the poor

Never throw your sweats on dirty foams

A word to the wise…

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

HER BLOOD AS BONES OF THE GUTTER

street people

I

Her birth blood from the gutters scream

For her to all the filth redeem

Her blood can’t stand likes with her dream

And can no longer stand their scream

II

She can’t be called rich as such

In her wardrobe designer is much

All her looks have a Midas touch

And authenticity dwells in her watch

III

Her face shows disgust for gutters

Gutters which shielded with litters

All things culminating haters;

Her haters: her needful rapers

IV

What did the gutters do so wrong?

Making hatred for them so strong?

She looks like she doesn’t belong

To the sad gutters. And among

The things she wants to be known

The filth of the past can’t a place own

V

Her birth blood cries in the bones

Of the gutters, because of the neglect of her own

  Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

HOW ARE THEY?

CHILDREN IN NEED

The rude visitations of the rains

Touch my sanes

What becomes of

Those with unsheltered homes?

 

What happens to

Those with no mother’s arms?

 

Who tends to

Those with no towels of comfort,

 

Who feeds

Those who live from hand to mouth?

 

I weep watching their plight in my mind

Cooped in corners,

Hugging own legs,

Rain gutting the land on their skins as they shiver

With hunger gunning their stomachs

 

Do the eyes of the street see them?

Do the ears of the world hear them?

Can the mouth of the earth speak for them?

The nose of the slums sniff them, that I know

And knowing is like a thousand knives

Piercing my mind

Because I was part of their kingdom

Before the hands of years stretched

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

 

 

I ASK GOD WHY

 

As the many land

With golden spoons

And the many land

With silver spoons

With others landing

With a bronze spoon

How can you sit there watching

While I land with no spoon?

 

As the many reject

The many clothes in boos

And the many reject

The many shoes

With the many loving

Their precious shoes

How can I be left with nothing

While I came with them in the same cues?

 

If the land is left with nothing

At least the ant wipes its hands

To pacify the lands

Why do I have nothing

For the one who did my carrying

As she watches my empty hands

As they came to the lands

Remain same as she leaves for eternal touring?

 

Scrub and I scrub

Clean and I clean

Dig and I dig

Like a pig and its dirt

I live in work

Why am I left with nothing?

Why?

God I ask you why?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

 

MAMA’S SPACE

Mama’s space

Is occupied by air

 

Mama’s hug

Is always done by the tree

 

Mama’s voice

Is lost in the wind

 

So in my many nightmares

I have no voice to call mama

 

Because when the trees and the air

Run there, their scare will stop my heartbeat.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

(Wrote this after visiting the Tamale Children’s home and meeting very young abandoned children. Seriously, life is not fair)

THE HEARTS OF THE CHILDREN WEEP

abandoned

They swam in competition for the eggs

And won their race

Just hoping for some pecks

So they bore all the cramping and escaped from sicknesses’ chase

Only to come to the shore

To realize they boarded the wrong vehicles

 

 

Now what?

No matter the many walks one will take

You see some begging for labour shot

Trying to fake their ages in order to their meals bake

Their sweats cry for help

As their will conquereth their pain

 

These angels on the street

Trying to be on their feet

They gnash their teeth

In order to hunger beat

They strain their bodies’ meat

And kill their smiles

 

Let the vehicles that brought them here

Take them back there

There, where their struggles started

There, where their trust forced them to war

Seeing some lost their parts, others hungry,

Others suffering, being beaten and dying is horrendous

 

Please wake to feed the labour of your pleasure

Mother earth, please let them see the curses they’re incurring

Father sky, please help the pleasurers know their sins have no measure

These angels came to help us live on, only asking for initial caring

They do not deserve this? Please Africa rise

To get them off the street and out of their misery

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014

APES IN FEATHERS

Now in the arms of money

Lies the fairest of beings

Kwaa Attah, being a bird

Whose wings have been clipped by

The sharp teeth of money

What will be my fate?

 

I watch as perfectly painted beaks,

Claws and faces saunter  like

Angels  in perfect outfits walking on rainbows

into arms of apes in money suits

Why?

Nothing matters so long as the paper flows?

 

My grandpa told me of days

When little fruits unsold were all it took for even  

The most prettiest bird to swoon

So none had nothing to clip others

Except for rules of  abstinence from royal territory

 Why is my time different?

 

Walking under this tree watching

Many of the prettiest

Battle for apes who have fun clashing heads

I cannot fly, all I do is look up

In my unluckiest day, I could swallow faeces

Alien to my species, what unfairness!

  Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014