If Jesus was bruised and killed

Then I think this is karma

Oh! What else can best explain this enigma?

Of sticks needing sticks

And mortars needing mortars?


If indeed Jesus was bruised and killed

And He was sent by a human-like God

Then who can stand and watch his own abused?

Oh! This is karma and it explains this enigma

Of sticks turning mortars and mortars turning sticks


With a snap, fingers snap necks

With a thought, weapons take lives

For just some papers, humans break trust

Deceit is hailed, pleasures of sins; the ultimate pageants

This is karma and it explains the chaotic enigma

Whoever killed the Son incurred the wrath of the Father

Now we reap the seeds of a long long revenge

Fasten your seatbelts, if I am right

We’re in for a long hard painful ride

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


“Give your life to Christ”
He writes boldly
“For even the love of humans
Can’t compete His earthly love”
I ponder on the three paged sheet
And wonder why I feel
I am being coerced, like a little puppy, into a cult
I know God creates
Who needs what he creates when he continuously creates?
He provides for what He creates
So why do I need to give myself to a son?
Isn’t he more like a brother?
I believe the creator lives
Is heaven a fazing kingdom?
Am I that much of a pig
That people need me washed?
All my clouds of problems
Will never rain
If I give my life to Christ
Abena, I really must be a criminal
That like a piece living in unmentionables
I am being written letters of love
Like a manipulatable little girl
Let my clouds rain
I say
My earth will soften to strengthen
He who creates is He who takes
He doesn’t need my permission to
He takes it at His time
And I am ready anytime
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Speechless, I stand before your throne
Speechless,  this short tree bows before your throne
It knows it needs no hugeness for greatness
Amidst the foes and the blows
Amidst the hurts and the pains
Beneath the shame in light fame
You knew who and what You needed me to be
You knew what training You needed me to have
You knew a taste of the fall would reveal the sweetness of the highs
You are wondrous
You are wondrous

I remember when my farmers cut my stem
Claiming my siblings needed the shine
You might have laughed when I cursed
And might have seen me
Like a rebellious fierce mighty soul
What in heaven you were thinking
When you sent a wind to break my new in teen age
While you held me back
And allowed others to pass, I knew not
But it is clear You deal with Your time

So I had to be dragged by You in twos
Going straight,  You chose for me the best frame
Which would break my soul
And give me a gift to break my heart
Still feeling broken, I know you have a plan
You are wondrous
You are wondrous
You are wondrous
You are wondrous
And I am done doubting You
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



google pictures
google pictures

Jehovah is my witness

He is my witness

That I do carry the right messages

But many want none of it

None, none at all


He is my witness; Jehovah

I went to Papa Ofosu’s house

Immediately he saw me,

He rushed into his neigbour’s bathroom like a lost cat

And asked him to tell me he is not in

When he knew I saw him

And could probably have heard him


I went to Shaidu’s house

And he brought out a machete

How my heart pounded!

Jehovah curses those who touch his prophets

But I needed to live to spread the word

So like a speed mortalised, I fled

Jehovah is my witness


Just look at Akosua

Girl as pretty as the rainbow

She is so lost and I had pity on her soul

I went to knock to give her the word

And she changed her voice ridiculously

And told me “please she has vacated this premises”

When I saw her the next day

On my way to work

Jehovah! Jehovah!


Just look at Mrs. Pabi

The woman’s house is far from mine

So I reach her for discussions when she is mostly cooking

Her nosy little brat of a child

Told me I was just a nosy and hungry old preacher

When I complained, she said her child had a point

What did she think I was?

A glutton looking for free meals?

Jehovah Jireh!


Teenagers kill me most

They flee like I am some sort of “kakai”

When they see me, while laughing

Their faces saying;

“Catch us if you can! You old nag!

I get irritated, but not for long

Jehovah cries, I know


Many are those who meet their deaths

Many are those who get injured

Fleeing from me and my family

But Jehovah is my witness

Jehovah is my witness

That I am spreading the word

And I feel very bad when others die without hearing the word

Shoes are buyable

And I won’t care even if my soles wane

I will continue my work as Jehovah’s witness

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



A man stood at the podium

Calling himself “the fire man”

Shouting blessings

Shouting cursings

Until the trial moment came


A child of eight, run to the temple

Panting in a frenzy

Shouting in fear

Of the unimaginable

So the audience asked

“What at all is it?”


Like a Satanic messenger

He unfolded his tongue

“Ei, a man is lying in a pool of blood

Outside the church

With huge blisters all over his body

Judging from his symptoms

A doctor run wild

Saying it is ebola!”


Before the members could sink it in

The podium fell

The fireman fell, stood, shouted and fled

The elders followed

The audience then knew

That standing by the podium

Was a mere water shell

If it had been washed in-shore

Then they too must flee

And so it happened

That the fireman ended up selling dog-chains

By the roadside,

None of his former followers patronising

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Could you be just name and fame?

Could your spirit be all fake and lame?

Why will you and your sons

Replace your taste form slaves to leopards?

Did you not know what leopards were

Did you not know leopards never give their paws freely?

Or did you plan a huge royal massacre?

Were the seers not able to see properly?

Could it be the communicators wanted a royal ridicule?

And supposing you were “tafrakye” drunk

Couldn’t the priesthood have hinted you in your sanity?

Who would atone for the slayed slaves of unfortunacy?

Penkye Otu, are you just a god who incites to kill?

Could you be all paint and weapons?


A god, a god you are said to be

A god who raises questions

Could it be you are what many fear to say?


Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015





I challenged a student who just completed high school to write a poem on faith. I am actually surprised she did this in a matter of 30 minutes:


Many find it difficult holding on to me

I am defined as the substance of things hoped for

The evidence of things not seen

I am the best companion in trying times

Yet you tend to be impatient when I am just what you need

My components are peace and assurance

But most importantly hope because without it I have nothing to give substance to

I do grow so like a seed

When I am nurtured

 I became a mighty tree

And provide you with shade under the scorching sun

Faith is my name

Love Nyaaba





Unto the Lord”

What is that man doing on my porch?

After his gossipy wife

Acted like a goat in sheep skin

Does he still have a face 

To show up on my porch and pace?



Unto the Lord”

Oh! I am glad Sister Akos tripped at the podium

What kind of chorister wears long heels

And short skirts?

And oh! Did you hear the pastors “concordal” errors? 



Unto the Lord”

Ofosu’s sickness is horrible

I sympathise

But sinners deserve to be punished

Do you remember when he dumped Ama

And made the poor girl commit suicide?



Unto the Lord”

Don’t say I am head of the women’s movement

I am also a very observant being

I say the obvious and tell no lies

Think what you like

I have to now go and tend to my guest

See you at evening service

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Walking through the doomy path

Of jumping in my final bed

I stumbled on a being so dirty

Resting on earth in clothes of naught


Funny how I saw the face of God

And felt what He really has in store

No words did come from the mouth so sore

But his posture did ease all my bore


I am that one who has it all

Beauty, smartness, lovers and all

Even my ridicules wear heavy smily masks

Why will I jump when a pawn does live?


I really did see the face of God

The face of God in a loco head

Someone might say he does live not

But his life has saved a wretch like me


I know his life is a testament for all

All who seek to take  the final fall

I have seen God not in the sky above

But in an uncanny way carrying a crazy head

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015




Croak, croak croak!!!

Instead of cocks crowing,

Frogs’ croaking have become the wake call

The breezes act with decorum

Blowing north, south, east to the west

It’s as though they’ve been schooled

Schooled for evenness


This day,

Beautiful birds glow

On centre stages of muscular and firm trees

“Pi, pi, pi ri pi

Kwi kwi kwi, kwi kwi kwi kwi,

Fi fi fi fiii, fi ri fi

Ta da tadaa ta da daaa”

Beautiful undecipherable lyrics dance in their tunes

Promising a wonderful day


Like an expectant ant, 

I crawl, mostly unseen by eyes

waiting for the mannas while searching for food

This Sunday must live up to its name

Let it be a sunny day

Like a Fanti soup maker,

Sieve all chaffs out

Receive the cleanest worship

And light this world with some sweet answerings

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



The radios blasts happy God’s songs

The folded clothes cry iron long

Discarded Bibles now belong

Some high heels will sing sensual songs

To get to hearts of the many strongs

Still, the church’s bell rings, digi digi digi digi dong!


I know heart clothes many will wear

Those needing good husbands to stare

Those needing poverty to clear

Those needing sicknesses to stay clear

Those needing goodness trait to come to bare

Those who need relationship repairs

Those who are starers to gossip stir

Still, the church’s bell rings, digi digi digi digi dong!


Like the boss of God

Many go to show they can afford

A few do go because they are bored

Some do go to sell the hoards

A few do go to feel God’s rod

And a few more to hear God’s word

Still, the church’s bell rings, digi digi digi digi dong!


For those who go to correct words

Your pens are no God’s wordly swords

Murderers of saints

Do wish to cleansy angels acquaint

Need I say more?

Still, the church’s bell rings, digi digi digi digi dong!


When the skies open their gates
And give the sun the chance to light
Earth beings, some, thank their makers
Others, think of their intakes
So brains bless and or curse
But Abena, I worship your Highness

Through the nightmares
Through the storms
Through the dilemmas of my dreams
Through the runnings
With close chasings
You are the one who tamed my screams
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



The foot mat of the heavens

Shows its grandness

The capable hands of the earth

Shows God’s magnificence

“Ahunuwo abobirim”

This is your exaltation

“Tonsuo bↄ awia”

I do thee worship



Like the cock and its dawn praise

I do your great name in gratification raise

You are the greatest thought

One without a money slot

“Daaa Agya Nyame

Ayeyi nka wo din”



You are a mysterious pleasure

One who knows no corruption

One who is merciful without measure

One who deserves adoration

If every breath had a cost

If every thought had a cost

If every blessing had a cost

None would have been able to buy

“ↄprekese Gyaamadu a wo hu bↄn afie mu”

You really are the “Great I Am”

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015




I hear the praises

Of all daisies

I hear the whispers

Of windy winners

I hear the clappings

Of stones being stepped on

How can I sit like a caged doomed man

When life smiles through my veins?


Here is your praises

Here, your exultation

Here is your adoration

Sit comfortably and receive them

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Spirits standing in stupor

Selling saints for shillings

Scrape the scripts at the storehouse

See the sorries of the Supreme


Silly sayings

Sorting sufferings

Simple stabbings

Stills of shouts


Speed to seats

Scam to shams

Stealing to stifling

Stop! Sinners of sainthood

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Through sin’s sweet bosom

Many hurts did blossom

Gaining roots

Acting as boots

And in cahoots with punishments


We cherishing

Though perishing

Sweet peas

In acidic seas

Bubbles of heart ripples

Weapons masked in angelic pebbles


Sweet hurtings

Like peace’s chaos

Soul’s dirt bowl

Like heavenly hellish creation

Sweet Lord

Please come on board

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Many will be stranded

Being left empty handed

After enjoying the fat Lamb killing

And being shamed with a resurrection


Many will sell their talkers

After being drained by suckers

Many will pawn their shoes

Just to get a place on a troski


Many will turn to beggars

After being the money taggers

Many will see their empty coffers

After drinking their hard earned like thirsty beasts


Amazing how fun goes crazing

Amazing how minds go bonkers

Amazing how days of One’s suffering

Now goes with great jubilating

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



No matter how beautiful,

Flowers in the dark are never noticed

And risk being trampled upon

Please All Seeing

Light my path


No matter how beautiful

Foul scent will scare audience

And be abandoned when uncorked

All knowing 

Sweetly scent my tunnel


No matter how sweet

Poisoned wine will lose its drinkers

After few fall

All merciful

Cleanse my scares


Life without light

Groping in darkness like a lonely blind

Arrest my darkness

Unleashing it only when I lie in rest

At the open of lid of eyes

Put it back into its chains

To make my journey smooth

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Death for freedom

Freedom from evil

Freedom from pain

Freedom from fear

Freedom from principalities and powers

Freedom for sainthood in happiness

Now that freedom’s head is in the armpit of chaos,

Enslaved by brutality

Being beaten by atrocities

Spit on by materialism

Stamped on by selfishness

Being slapped by earthly ticklings

And insulted by bonds of Satan

Did Jesus go wrong

By shedding his precious blood like a sheep

On the cross of Calvary?

Mary’s womb churns

Pinching her and cursing her pain

In the soil of her eternal rest

Because time’s travels are rendering her seed useless

Oh she too travelled nine moons!

It is an Easter to feaster

An Easter of beasters

An Easter of leasters

Trashing the gesture of the Holies

Which aimed at an earthly heaven

So so sad!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Serve someone special

Sacrificial sacrament saddles salvation

Serenading sweet scents to sour

Surreal sustenance stays though svelte

Saintly sailors are sages supreme

Stone sorrows to stupor 

Stallions support stables to stand

So sweet sleep serves not in stumbling

Sagely sayings served in stern


Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Folks climb tall mountains

With their voices as day wakes

Pledging commitments?

Funny flaws’ flaked forces fan

Into action when day smiles


What are we on then?

Noise pollution with no track?

Time’s irritation

We may hear the earth shout “bue!”

Like ones whose ears itch and hurt


In wake of that time

Our dragging drums would open

And pour as souls run

None can hold noise to ransom

Because then, it would be late

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



After the ticktocking into days of seven

Bodies so comfy in sinful clothes think of heaven

And wear clothes of purity which is a burden

To crying God’s houses whose mouths are deaden


As if white masks are cold and heavy

They act like sheep when their wools are wavy

And after the heavens’ meeting, like a gnashing guy done pleasing a lady

They come back tearing those clothes, so shaddy


If eyes of the sky is up in high

And the all seeing story is not a lie

Then the heavenly tongues always shout fie!

You know you’ll never taste a heavenly pie


So tigers in domestic wools

Get your fake heavenly cools

As you lie like ducks in your dirty pools

A day will show you mirrors which will show your fools

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


easter defaulters


We are all there

Arrival of spirits before bodies

Hark! Glory to the dead

Umbrellaring our sins


Even in sadness is happiness

Although He died

Servants must drink

Thankfuls must sin

Empresses must dance

Revolting the favour


Core of celebrations are pushed in ovens

Over happy thoughts rushed to the fore

Ringing breasts call for many rounds

Eateries of folly, the body of salvation


Raising of hands for sniffing and buying

Entertaining undies as they skimpily clad

Armouring covery organs in teasy kills

Serve and be served, the bacchanalian orgy

Onward in centuries after precious blood washed all

None can remember that one took the fall


Fie on the jumpers

Ooh you adulterers

Run you defilers of decorum

Get some reasoning

Overlook the happiness

Tear your hearts from the tattered reign of sins

Totally submit to what you’re celebrating

Empires await in the narrow or broad

Never think worldly celebrators made this celebration

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 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



Great walls of churches

Throw shadows on the unsaved

Why is sin reigning?


Great mouths of prophets

Use energies to nourish

Souls, so why the filth?


The many dirt soils

Sit on the few righteous deeds

Strainers fail to see


A small world consumed

By a bigger realm, pity,

End times cry comings

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



In all my trauma

You promise me my manna

You preach to me of Karma

And fan forgiveness’ aroma

Please listen Elohima


To you I look

Hoping to be in your book

I know a great life you took

To this hardened heart of mine cook


My heart runs high

Like a fish in the sky

My soul cries your hi

But my body cries fie

Hoping my problems say bye


I still know, to you I look

Hoping to be in your book

I know a great life you took

To this hardened heart of mine cook


It gets so hard

When I need worldlies bad

Foes hit my sad

To try to force me to faith discard

And I mostly go mad


But I still remember, to you I look

Hoping to be in your book

I know a great life you took

To this hardened heart of mine cook


To you I look

Hoping to be in your book

I know a great life you took

To this hardened heart of mine cook

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Fiery fire!

Fall on fake farms

who feast and feed forests fantasies

which fume fecal forces


Fiery fire fall fast!

For fermentations feel fabulous

as fabrications shed clothes of facade

and few faultless feel fear


Fiery fire flip fences!

Fan the few and fall the fakes,

fire facelift facetiousnesses

as you flame all fake farm factions

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



When I think of churches,

I think of their riches

and all their ungodly breaches.

Why do riches make some men of God

“sɛbi” bitches?


They must cherish all paupers

But they live for only the “shadders”

“Witchising” all poor mothers

Whipping under all weathers

How money develops wings

To fly nicodemously into secret coffers

Gives me all shudders

So I say:

Take the riches to the streets,

Use the riches to wash street feet,

Make some dragging buttocks a seat,

Then your godliness will be Godliness and neat

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Peace amidst chaos

Helpful amidst helplessness

Healing in murder

Embracing ruthless shooters

He must be a good woman


Climbs against advice;

He holds hands and drops gently.

Bad demonstrations;

He protects, love and give all

Why is He not a woman?


He acts motherly

So He must be a woman

Catching all our falls

Loving despite all errors

He sure is a woman; God

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



God, I need a date

A date which cannot wait

So I can show you my plate

Before I become late


God I need a date

A date to strengthen my fate

By knowing all my baits

And securing all my gates


Oh Lord give me that date

To know the root of all hate

I don’t want to end up like my friend Kate

Who wondered until she became late


Oh Lord give me that date

So I can share with my mate

And hit cruel liars pate

After I, their sermons rate


If I get that date

I know I’ll save my state

So we can graduate

From this state before we’re late

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



The church calls

Won’t you heed to the call of change?

The church calls through the voices of cocks

Won’t you wake to the sounds they make?

Wake to the sounds  of the fashionistas

Wake to the sounds of the “lusters”

Wake to the sounds of pastors who mentor on beds with passion

Wake to the calls of the stooges who hold the legs of the church

You can also wake to the sounds of the pure hearted who prays for peace

In a church with many groups

You have a choice to join any

That is what modernity has done to the church

Divisions in division

Like a little potato shared among the countless

Oh wait!

Wake or they may crush like they crashed the gods of indigenous Africa

Just a naughty thought

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015




Fears now walk on metal legs

Holding huge metal pegs

Pegging hearts through words

Spewed from mouths of math phobias like flawed surds




They walk on minds like end times

Wearing clothes of signs picked from Holy Books which rhymes

Using the gateways of ears and eyes

Confusing minds against the lies



Even a mulatto’s car

With a beast tag has long horns which bar

The minds of the ’Deity’s mouthpieces

Making them tear hearts into pieces




What is the truth?

What can you say to my heart soothe?

What can melt these irons

Which are sending us many times to fake Zions?





Many are the hell rejects

Who are purported to tell on hell for man’s reflects

And they mostly tell of the tormented

After they have their own lamented




Do we have the walking dead

Now showing faces and begging to be fed

And be given sheds

And names like Teds?




If you have a voice which can bounce

And give me reasons in sounds

I would be glad

And would be saved from going mad

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015


Google pics
Google pics

When the pastor shouted halleluyah!

The “amens” were higher

My eye caught their wire

And followed their empire


The eyes meant for the pastor lust after the choirmaster

Who saw the flicker in remembrance of their first litter

The female lead singer : Adwoa also eyed the choirmaster

Nerdy Pious, who loves Adwoa, eyes the choirmaster


The guitarist’s eyes are doing the scanning

His heartbeat left in lustful beds in fantasies

As his talented hands work

To conceal the lust in his eyes


Almost all backsides of single ladies

Are possessed when the hot hands flirt with drums

Their dances say it all

They are ready to take the fall

Making losers push their standing tails from wagging

Covering their “ouches” by the timely hallelujahs


Paupers with passions

Pray for blindness for the hot chicks

Who dance for heavenly manna

And a hot visiting guy is pierced with arrowed eyes

As the sugar elders fret in their seats

Obviously needing cages to guard their territories


My oh my!

Some eyes are pinning

And so it goes that I’m a new fine ass

Who came with soles tickling the fancy of hot loins

Abena, where are my bag and my bible?

Look at me, who holds a bible to church in these times?

Legs, please carry me home!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Through God’s spectacle

There is no human receptacle

He needs no oracle

To tell Him what happens in His tabernacle

He gave us combined chronicle

To work with but we are comical

Doing opposites and needing a miracle

Humans are like pigs and it’s terrible

Look, we know our state is curable

All we need is love so durable

But we’ve made it so impossible

That even God finds it difficult to follow our parable

But He still finds us adorable

Knowing our change is plausible

But we wear our sins and look nautical

Even when death’s ship catches our optical

Look this is diabolical

My words won’t be metaphorical

Just know we’re repairable

And let’s stop being our own obstacle

Or we make God’s dream chimerical

And that for Him will be unbearable

For our good is his arable

And He needs not to see Himself as a debacle

Satan’s boats needs many a barnacle

But His living treatments are unbearable

So let’s see through God’s spectacle

Then our joy and goodness will be palpable

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

(Inspired by my friend and elder sister Deborah Ann Palmer (Espiritu en Fuergo/ A Fiery Spirit)



Once upon a time,

God was with us

He pampered and caressed

Until humans became one

They joined the sinly train

And got a disappointing pestle

They pounded God with hatred

They pounded Him with stealing

They put Him in the mortar of sin

And pounded him like crazy

Until He made the sky

He used the  sky as blanket

And wrapped His battered body

And blinded humans to see not

His visibility until they turn ghost

But now, their children weep

Wanting to have a peep

But if this could be reversed

I’m sure they will in time step into the ancestral stool

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



It’s a new Sunday

And all are up, most do pray

The church laughs, cries and bleeds

For the visitors it is yet to receive


The first classes are those with God in hearts

They come subdued, dressed like parcels

That will take years of hundred to unwrap

Their faces spelling doom

Because their flowers see no sun to bloom

A worship song makes them gloom

As they cry to touch


The second classes

Go with needed glasses

Even their class is also in classes

There are men of passions

Who enter the church to get bed actions

There are women of needs

Who enter to possess

There are women of testing

Who aim to twist the  minds of the preachers

And the choirmasters, who dreads the tension

Between their ploughers

Funny, how they all call on God

And pretentiously hate on Satan


There are the show givers

Who enter the mouth of the church

To feed its hall with jealousy

An expensive watch

A trouser to watch

A shirt to love

And the list goes on

What is with the huge offering?

Then the females show

Dressed like peacocks

Fanning themselves like worms wallowing in defecation

Stepping like beings with no asses

Teasing Togo dressers

Hurting ghetto livers with their countenance of bliss

Funny how they all call on God

And pretentiously hate on Satan


All these people

Overshadow the church’s needs

Those it needs to see

Are never seen

As its head is filled with showmanship

Of the absurd kind

Church, you’ve suffered

Hoarding many prostitutes

Seeing many gamblers

With stooged hands of needs clapping incessantly

As jealous mouths show white and yellow

Sometimes green chairs in hopes of impressing

Those intended to have some golden seats

And mostly the unritualled churches stand dilapidated

With its stomach painfully evaded

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




A day

Bare of hurts

Caressed by care

Dreaded by death


Emancipate us

From all ear thunders

Greatly warming our blankets with

Heat of earthly goodies


Irrespective of our transgressions

Join forces with peace to

Kill thoughts too heavy

Lying on our peace of minds


Marry our hearts with kindness always

No hatred must be allowed in

Open access to warmth for all

Painting light where dark reigns


Quench all thirsts

Remind us of same blood

Sack poverty and need

Tell us tales of a good tomorrow


Umbrella all hurtful rains and be our

Vine in all spheres

Work with wellness to eliminate sicknesses and I’ll play you a

Xylophone to warm your ears

You and only you can

Zip our happiness

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


bad spirits

Bad spirits! Call Satan!

You are being made clothes

Clothes of all deception and sins

And you lie in the quiet?


Last night, I met a thief

He pleaded his cause and named Satan

As the blind possessor who led him astray

And you lie in the quiet?


Three days ago,

I heard of a man whose central stick

Whipped and killed a teenage child

He named Bad spirits and you lie quiet?


Need I mention the town gossip

Who said she witnessed an anointed

Climbing the pleasure wall of his acolyte?

She named Satan and you guys lie quiet?


What of the self acclaimed preacher

Who kowtowed in the Dark, priestess of Kill for Me?

Like an armedrobber, he took from the rich and poor alike

When he was caught he named both of you and you are quiet?


From the human sellers

To the hurt nursers,

All call you two

And you lie quiet?


Get up!

Convene a meeting!

And give a press conference

Confirming or otherwise

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Paaa, paaaa, paaa, paa, paaa

A child is born

One who deserves a horn


Paaa, paaaa, paaa, paa, paaa

Grab your coat

And board a boat


Paaa, paaaa, paaa, paa, paaa

Who cares to hate

Please grab a plate


Paaa, paaaa, paaa, paa, paaa

I hear the love

Which streams from above


Paaa, paaaa, paaa, paa, paaa

Where are the bells? Ring!

Where is the choir? Sing!


Paaa, paaaa, paaa, paa, paaa

Be for once a clown

And roam carelessly in town


Paaa, paaaa, paaa, paa, paaa

Pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa

Paaa, paaaa, paaa, paa, paaa

Hei hii hei hoo hei hee hoo

Be the best that best can be

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


mary andnbaby Jesus

My mind shows me a vivid video

Of the birthday many await

It started from Mary’s wondrous love,

Ended with her shivering body


After this came her knighted Romeo

One who viewed, hurt, and touched his pate

The Holy Ghost healed from up above

His heart merged hers in a body


Despite heavens being in her studio

Satan worked so hard on his slate

To kill him, fearing not those above

But their working was so shoddy


He chose a humble birthing studio

We would’ve said it was bad fate

He smiled with lights of love from above

And never thought of being Lordy


Men worked hiding him in the video

Couldn’t heaven protect his state?

Killings of sweet children, ones like dove

They did not get to his body


Periods of strife in this sane video

Why will an orgy rule this state?

He suffered to live though a pure dove

Do you now think you are Lordy?


My mind shows me a vivid video

Of the birthday many await

It started from Mary’s wondrous love,

Ended with her shivering body

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


Picture by photobucket.com
Picture by photobucket.com

Amidst the chaos

And the raucous

God saw it good

To lighten the hood

So he formed an angelic human union


The chosen of chastity

Was filled with charity

And light lightened dark light

With no man putting up a fight

Of the outcome of the angelic union


There was no speciality

Even though there was piety

Nine moons travelled

And a human form marvelled

In Bethlehem because of the angelic union


For one to save by living

Others had to take a leaving

To pave way

And thus started the day

Of the product of the angelic union


His start-up lightened us up

In hopes of sitting on peace’s lap

So let us jubilate and laugh

And cleanly and washfully have a bath

On the birthday of the product of the angelic union

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Sing until the bells of heaven ring

Sing and let them ring in many springs

Sing and let heaven all Satan’s flings

Sing, for in happiness, the right thing to do is sing


Laugh until the sorrow of the earth drowns

Laugh and let pain die of drought

Laugh, for the heavens to be proud

Laugh and make sure it is aloud


Who can imprison light so penetrable?

A light given in a gift none can pay?

I dare say our yays can never be enough

To compensate for this eternal gift

Like rain in drought,

I hear a man came and brought

Peace and hope

To clear the head of this world of dope


Let angels sing with flapping wings

Let stones clap and sing with the winds

Let sand merge with shoes and shout

As birds dance to the swift breeze in flight

And let mankind, in togetherness sing

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



I saw a mad man up the hill

Going to church by his free will

I followed keenly forgetting my bill

And hid in silence as the congregations still


The preaching pastor stopped and wailed:

Where are the ushers who have failed?

Do you wish to listen to the derailed?

Be up and doing and sack this derailed


The mad man lifted some huge sticks

Threatening all to pick their picks

All he wanted was to join the sicks

A threat to sack him will cost some sticks


You needed eyes there to see the messed cue

Of runners who shed their colours and turned to blue

None thought of anything in two

Everyone rushed out in time so due


I stood at a distance and watched them run

I never knew the mad man who smiled like the sun

So when the pastors stood bruised by the run

I tried to enter and saw the mad man


He was kneeling in front of the pulpit

Asking God why he dug this pit

I watched with interest as he took his veil

Not a mad man but the Man Himself looking so pale


He asked His people what the Bible says

Who but God orders all the pays?

How could they sack the needy and the hurt?

With shame and fails all faces were hurt

I went to kneel so I could also be blessed

His disappointments were registered and deeply stamped

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



As the speakers sound

Loudly at 4am and the

Churches beam with drums,

Tamborines, songs of worship,

We hope for a calm good day


But like always, robbers

Prepare for their escapades

Prophetic rituals

Call on minds of vulnerables

And needy and sorrowful


Can we talk of the

Cunning tricksters, whose carvings

Beat minds of sages?

Ah! If you don’t know, then you

Have never been their victim


Would we leave out the

Planning murderers Who zap

Lives they cannot give?

Even tears of the short lived

Cry to harm our peaceful air


And the others follow

I will say, a pox on you!

You whose thoughts would break

Hell today and make history

Stain with gumptions on the clear

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014