YOUR JESUS

Your Jesus whose name is a whip you pull out
Whenever your anger turns into a shout
On building a house into a home
Was he not lonesome?

II
Your Jesus
That name you spit out
Whenever you seek from me a man in the moral stout
Did he ever let his pestle pound fufu in any abaayowa’s sweet mortar?
Were there whispers of he courting some man of affluence’s daughter?

III
Your Jesus
That name you chant out
Whenever you see children, trying to make it my emotion’s clout
Can you please name his first born?
Maybe then, I will heed to your bothersome horn

IV
Please, let me be
And let your Jesus be
You always chanting his name makes him the ghost we all see
Parading in tricking, hurting and killing

V
Oh I forgot
You call it saving…
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 9, 2019

IN A DEVIL’S MASK?

Feuds hide in curtains of days past
To make monsters of grieving cast
On stages of new days
How did I come to wear a devil’s mask
In mirrors of new eyeballs?
Did you so mix days with nights to win wars of the past?

II
You drag me through the slums of hunger
Arrange need on street pans to sell in danger
Laid rags under open skies to catch the eyes of many a stranger
I served, bitterness swerving

III
You dragged me through fire
To school of the aspire
In straits so dire
Building on me a head of will
And serving difficult options on plates of confusion
Trapping me into another knapsack of troubles
I still served, bitterness swerving

IV
So you planted a poor seed in my fertile ground
And made useless the farmer who I thought I had found
As I listened to the pain of my own sound
My hairs never resting in their pores
Turning nights into frightful days
And days into worrying trays
I still served, bitterness swerving

V
After climbing that mountain
With tears as my internal fountain
You asked the seventh to abort the counting
Shattering dreams of apex reaching
Pushing me to fall hard on stones of sadness
And what? You still deserve a serving?
Not that I can’t, you gave the will
This wrestling is necessary
For flesh pain feeling

VI
So now what?
I have a devil’s mask on
In eyes which you adore?
I will scare!
I will haunt!
I will taunt!
I will this mask flaunt
Until the waves of my heart
Recede from the shores of hurts
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 8, 2019

MIRROR MIRROR ON OUR WALL

“Mirror mirror on our wall
What are we at all?”
Lions swallowed by cats swallowed by mice
All trapped by hyenas
You are ebonies lost in fake pink and on the brink of a sink
You are porcupines made up like rain-whipped nsɛnsɛ
You are abro a apɛnsɛ
Marked to be harvested by mouths whose hands know not your soil
Talk less of your sweats
You are hairs hidden in wigs of abrɔ-nsɛ
Like ghosts of colonizers mosquitoes killed on battles of malaria
You are hearts murdering your own souls just as hungry grounds drink passing waters
Pots drinking off your own waters to be cracked and broken by chasing heat!

II
You are the rich with pockets linked to sockets of greed
You’re pure seeds always craving corroding seeds as your garnish
You are tattered clothes on your own fleshes
Opening up to scavengers with your eyes shut open
You are idiots of wants, always hiding behind suited fetishes who
Chew your dignity to open you up to worship manipulations
You’re everything you shouldn’t be
And everything just any tool could be

III
Look at you
Rot of safe options
Fences of indifference
Eyes of looking blindness!
Listening deafs!
Muted talking mouths!
Strong stuck legs!
Healthy laze-arrested hands
With poor caged hearts!

IV
I am not telling you this
You’re looking at yourselves in me
And seeing what you are
I am but a mirror, opening myself to your ‘you’ viewing
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 7, 2019

INTIMIDATION STORY

Once tortoise befriended a snail
And they embarked on a loving tale
When storms did visit, tortoise snail shielded
When cars did bump, tortoise snail shielded
There wasn’t a thing in harm that could tortoise get
Snail just looked and began to fret
People sang of the great tortoise’s strength
And went ahead to shelter beneath its length
Snail felt stressed and strangely jealous
With time its feelings made it callous
Then it began to whisper to sprinkle bad rumours
To get tortoise tortured in weakness humours
All animals began to look for a battle
So they could wrestle tortoise for its mantle
So tortoise did leave the place for peace
And left all to live in peace
The day after, legs of sheep passed as usual
And felt a slime so unusual
It looked down; snail’s shell crashed into many a piece
Same spot but gone shade
Snail felt regret all too late
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 6, 2019

RHYTHMS OF HOME

I feel it
That yearning that won’t fit
That unsettling that won’t sit
That dream that won’t quit
Dissatisfactions that always hit
All those feelings threatening to wrestle me into doom’s pit

II
But when I, like a snail, the boarders cross
I feel like I’m carrying a loneliness cross
Wearing heaviness and a sense of loss
Thoughts of a chick straying from its hen me do toss
Stomach beings raising demonstrations oh so gross
So what is my mind’s missing boss?

III
It could be the songs in which I belong
It could be the culture in which I am strong
It could be the company where I feel among
It could be the fuss of the spiritual ding dong
It could be the love rhythms of the gong
It could be the battles we fight for long
It could be the lapses and all the wrong
Oh it could be the passions of our talking ding dong

IV
It could be the mother in all she older
It could be the father in all he older
It could be the uncles in all blossomed men
It could be the sisterhood in all the gals
It could be the brotherhood in all the pals
It could be the dust in all our past
It could be the rust in all our must
It could be the burst in all our hurts
It could be just the sounds of nature’s beaked jets

V
So I am glued
Glued and might be fooled
But stuck here in spirit
Stuck here where I fit
Up there in head room
Even when the body, like a vehicle, drives out
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 5, 2019

STUCK

We have lived
Lived through the dawn of our rise,
To the morning of our victory
And got stuck
Between the morning of our victory
And the growth of our rise
Why?

II
Blessed with suns unrivalled
I wonder how we’ve still not gotten there
There, where the suns of growth shine fair
Blessed with moons whipping darkness
I wonder why we aim not to dine
Dine at the tables of greatness and wine
That the eve of development serves
Why haven’t we?

III
We are getting wrinkled and still teething
Why are we nibɔing?
We are getting old but still toddling
Why are we numsaing?
We are getting fondled but still sleeping
Why are we junsɔbɔing?
Do we so love the dew of dawn
And not the fair rains of the night?

IV
Ngaaa, ngaaa, ngaaa
And our mouths still suckle from the blood and tears
Of the pains of our yesteryears

V
Childhood has its season
Once we overstay our welcome,
As we have,
We turn weeds
Weeds all vegetarians,
Including herbivores like goats and sheep and rabbits
Turn to eat at will
Even dogs mostly bite through us for strength
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 3, 2019

THE WOMAN

She is a she from a she through a he
She is a sea made of rivers no mouth can name
She is a sky with lightning and clouds
With suns and moons accompanied by stars even in rains

Her hands are healing
Her bosom is a comforter
Her shoulders strong to take in
Any hurdle thrown on her
Her head is a library of care and fair and competence and dignity
Her face is a mask of all things from good to mischievous
Her feet know no challenges
Her love is like a fountain
Flowing out and filling in

She is the sky
She is the earth
She is the sea

She is the pot whose water never runs dry

She is the trees
She is the air
She is the core of life’s pores

She is the woman!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 8, 2019

THIS STORY OF CAPABILITY (Crazy Stanzas)

The porcupine walked like the kqueeng of pride
Tongue-macheting and butchering lion
“You are like the foolish baboon
Who stays only in the thighs of trees
Pouring promises like rain
In an action of zero
Let me be
Let me be the kqueeng of this jungle
And see the change and peace and light and food
That will fall like manna from the juices of my capabilities”

II
And so all animals in the jungle hoped
Frowning on failures of lion
Hoping the great meeting day runs fast to them
So they could sweep him out like filth in River Tuse

III
Formulas poured from the tongue
And fell from the beak of porcupine
Like dew of dawn
Kissing and caressing dreams of all the living in the jungle
Until the meeting day arrived

IV
It didn’t take long
For all who were strong
To whisk the throne from the buttocks of lion
As the weak cursed
“Look into your promising tank
There sure is nothing but mosquitoes of disappointments
Biting our expectations and sucking them dry
As hunger hangs us on hangers of deception
Go with your failure and let the capable help us flourish”

V
Porcupine became the first Kqueeng of the jungle
The crown of the king and queen placed on his decorated head, then he saw stance did matter and differ in ruling

VI
Time traveled no long distance
Before the animals saw they erred
Rains stopped falling
Suns stopped shining
Air seldom blew
So trees became lean and sickly and bald
Leaves and flowers suffered burns and died
Rivers died and became evaporative ghosts
Leaving the jungle and inviting heat and thirst

VII
The animals rushed to the kqueeng
Who sat by the unquenchable river
Sipping as servants fan relaxation into the throne
Complains started falling like snow in winter
Then turned threats slowly turned into a frost bite
Before it could escalate into a demonstration
Arrows were shot into them
Killing many and planting fear in all
As their knees tasted sharp stones to plead for mercy

VIII
And so it was
That the jungle lost it all
Some animals praying for the next meeting
Which sat quietly in the far future
Some animals wailing in regret
Some animals fleeing to live
Some animals grumbling about their stupidity
Some animals acting stooges to be favoured and gifted by the kqueeng
Who lived up to the name
And always looked down to shame
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 2, 2019

THIS KINKY MESS

This kinky mess
Can turn one in many and many in one
This kinky mess
Stops blood in its painful oozing
Oh medicine on a head!
This kinky mess
Is a dress in the cold
And a disciplined disciple which listens to hands of its comb
When dressed, respecting scissors and making it easy for barbers

II
This kinky mess is not like ɛsrɛ,
Flowing on and whipping faces
Following the wind rather than their carriers
It is only natural that comb punishes heads for their keep
Every jewel needs that painful refinement
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 1, 2019

CAN’T FOLLOW

You have been like a shadow
Haunting in my follow
Daunting in my sorrowful hollow
Uncaring even in my Jonah-like-swallow
Call me shallow
But I still can’t you follow

II
I can’t tell whether you’re farther or a father
I can’t tell whether you’re a monster or a mother
I don’t know what you feed, hurdles or manna?
You seem like an aggressive hen
Kicking chicks even in loving
What is this now?
A balm?
I still can’t you follow

III
You know the nature of what you create
You know the veins of pride which work with intestines of ego in your created
You know the dept of shame sitting in every pore on this skin
Yet you drag me through mud and dung and faeces and gutters
Shame after pain after jeers after hurts
And show me to the world on a dangling scale
How will I you follow?

IV
Yes, you have watered anger in my fine-hunger
You know you have carved stranger in my loving-manger
And you want to see love in my look above
When I don’t know where your stool sits?
I won’t have me you follow

V
So take off your heels of thoughts from the tiles of my conscience
This noise makes me feel like a cat
Caught stealing in its dream
When we both know the only trait of cats I own is fierceness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 31, 2019

YOUR TRICKS

They are boiling, boiling like angry waters
From the pits of your stomach right up to the lid of your head

II
They are boiling, I know they are boiling
That rejection water I served in the calabash of your ego
Burns right through your throat
And is raising monstrous hatred
Boiling you unwholesomely whole
But please rest easy

III
If you take your time to look at it
What boils inside that being you are
Is like a Fante kenkey
The leaves of anger with spine of need
And the rubber of loss
Covering your supposed kenkey of love
Mr. Lover, please rest easy

IV
A man is a man who drinks from the calabash of rejection
And takes the stance of a handshake
Deciding between the paths of parting and persistence
Not the one who builds words into stones
To serve back through his catapult of bitterness
Thinking it salve on his sore ego
He is not a man who builds foot-soldiers to taunt
Thinking to show his clothes of a warrior
To cower pride into a fall in his palms

V
Let not those eyes see a weak damsel in my stand
I am Agowa’s Abena Amoafowaa Jemremedua
The fiery queen who never breaks in a bend
I am Sefa Mansa Tawiah
That third spirit protected by the spirits of nta
I am that she who sees through even the egoistic walls of Jericho
On manly nations, let not my silence you deceive
Your tricks are but amusement jokes
Luring me into a state of fun and ties-cutting
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 29, 2019

THIS YGAP FERTILIZER

I am paralysed by happy shocks
Knowing I could a factory buy many stocks
Thanks to this fertilizer you’ve given to this cause

II
The dream of women being their own shades
Through the trees of their pockets
Umbrellaring their own in nursing great
Protecting their young from needing so cruel
Would be realized thanks to you

III
This seed you’ve watered
This land you’ve fertilized
Will do all it can, even the impossible
To grow goodness
Making sure its fruits fall in right seasons
To nourish the hungry and strengthen the weak

IV
Yes, fear stares from all corners
Yes, failure taunts from all snaking roads to the success mountain I see
But nothing will prevent us from shedding the sweats to appear clean at the top
Because you’ve cancelled failure with your grand deed

V
Yes!
Greatness awaits
A world of feminine independence
Placed in capable heads
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 29, 2019

A HE IN A SHE

1a

A he is in a she as a she is in a he
A she is in a he as a he is in a she
Yolk and water, a blending cooker
So why can’t we all see?

1b
We have been long in this shuttle of prejudice
Which drove us through deserts of bitterness
On seas of blame-gaming
Right to this battlefield of loneliness
Making even the few odds,
Couples in brutal rings
When will we ever drive to the heaven of sense?

1c
We can live by the measuring ruler
On who is better by centimetres of gender
We can live with pillows of alienation
And pleasure ourselves with weirding of queering
We can build boarding communities to separate blues from pinks
Who loses in the end?

+
The empty world and lonely earth
Ridden by lice who live in the hair of Asaase Yaa
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 28, 2019

TO THE BLACKS UPROOTED

Sisters and brothers turned strangers in the strange!
Mothers and fathers left lonely in old gaols
Sons and daughters growing in deserts of hatred
Think not you are cursed
Lament not your dejection
For if time will peel history backwards
It would reveal your mountains of love
Turned pain and sadness in your grand ancestry
As your pots were forcefully captured
Into painful planting whose fruits did you bear

II
Did you know?
Did you know that
Mothers cried until dehydration fried them in dungeons of death?
Oh fathers wept and neglected their shame, forgetting “Bɛɛma nsu”
Some hanged, others died of shock
Their hearts shattered into pieces
Fighting and failing and running and saving… some
Unsealable holes were left in hearts of brothers and sisters
Who stared vacantly hoping their loss would be returned
They wore mourning as skins until their generations quenched out
Even we, green leaves replacing vanished browns,
Have never forgotten

III
How can we ever forget shadows of our ancestors
Who hid in caves to our lineage save?
How can we forget those whose mourning was tarnished
By the need to ever flee?
How can we forget those who built on rivers and turned warrior architects
Moving from settlements to settlements
Like lost ants who can’t locate their sunny holes?
How can anyone forget their thoughts of being caught like rabbits
And skinned, and eaten?
Who can ever forget their brothers or sisters or mothers or fathers?
Blood is a sea with no divisive rivers

IV

Don’t you think if fate would have it
This ink will sink to clear our link in a blink?
Don’t you know?
Don’t you know if we could
We would hoe the ground to reach our foes who made you kowtow
To their crow selves so low?
Don’t you know the unknown if known
Would have been blown into pieces to you shown in rescue?
Don’t you know tears piled on fears at your caught?
Don’t you know hearts still yearn for your brought?
You royal black seeds uprooted and turned weeds in strange lands!

V
You’re all royalty!
As slaves turned royals and royals turned paupers!
You’re all royalty still yearned for in asamando and this living here!
You’re all royalty no matter how scattered or tattered
Strange sands have made you
It is an order irreversible
But blackness lives in relations
Each and everyone as sibling or child
Mother or father

VI
So stop, look back one last time
And heed to Nkrumah’s words
“Forward ever, backwards never”
Chasing dreams hitherto impossible
Even as monsters of racism and drugs chase your strength
And your dignity and your beauty
And your handsomeness
And your curves and your wholesomeness
Blood in black,
Build in the physical Martin Luther King’s dreams
And put an unerasable smile
On his gone face
Long live blackness!
Long live Africans lost to past monsters!
Long live you and I
With skin blessed melaninly
For we are rulers! Rulers the future has enstooled!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 28, 2019

Photo: Google Pics

SUN OF MINE

You blow strength in my mind
And leave me, like a cruel lover, to watch your behind
You build faith in my heart
And you fly to live on the tree of myth like a deserted dove
You nurse optimism in my bed of pessimism
And leave me with thorns of sadness
You shine me dry and leave me, why?

II
I will forever remember your rise on me
Like a mound of a yam tuber
I will forever remember your appearance from me
Like a knight in a lovely cameo
I will forever remember your smile like the sun,
Oh son turned angel
And will forever remember your naughty ways
Like an adorable cat
But help me to forget your behind
That back you turned without my looking
Still hurts like a thousand pieces of arrows
Shot all at once, into your mother’s little heart
Ahwinie!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 27, 2019

STAMP IT

Pen them
Pen your thoughts and stamp them as norm
But legalize them only in your world
Not the one we all share
For your thought’s rights cancel not that of mine
Nor his
Nor hers
Nor theirs
Even elephants as a set own not the jungle
And lions as a set own not the trait of fierceness
And oh, eagles own not the skies
You do know that seas belong not only to sharks
So stamp it
Stamp your thoughts as legality
Only in your legislative parliament
And not the one we share
So you can shred your attitude of queer
And show some dignity called ‘fair’
Only then will clothes of humanity be seen
On your monstrous opinions
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 5, 2019

CRY THE VAGINA 0F THE NATION

Cry the vagina of the nation
For all the penises of neglect pounding its hole
Cry the vagina of the nation
For all the huge penises of corruption tearing her up into pitiful pieces
Cry the vagina of the nation
For the hands of children of her womb
Taking off her clothes, opening wide her legs
To pave way for monstrous alien penises of greed
To fuck her hard using aphrodisiacs so potent
To hear her deadly screams
Cry the vagina of the nation
For its sores which get no sympathy from even her horny sons
Ah! Even her daughters seem to be fingering her with sharp nails!
Cry
Do cry
Cry and cry and cry and cry!
Cry in the temple of sense
With warriors bearing swords to battle hypocrisy
Shed your tears to attract
Clean hearts bearing metal panties
To cover her up long enough for her to heal
To see if she will get to her own feet
Taking her life into her hands
To build for herself a nation of royalty
Maybe then, the tears will rather wash her feet
Tears from everywhere but your hard worked eyes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 31, 2018

I SEE

I see
I see sameness in variation
One in many and many in one
If only minds will see same

II
I see
I see blackness in shining armour
Swords of words and words of arrows
If only hands will use

III
I see
I see colours weathering on same skies
In a bond that binds and winds needing rewinds to cure our blindness
If only our eyes will look in same direction

IV
I see
I see you in me and me in you
He in she and she in he
Perfection wrapped in uncertainties

V
I see
I see the future in today
A call in our fall
A wake for our take
No, not our take but we as Africa in a take over

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 10, 2019

CAGES OF AGES

As cages of ages in the past which now turn to imprison minds
Become old for a sold
Future children are being killed in present wombs
Through manipulation of present minds
To keep our knees on the piercing gravels of the ground
To maintain the posture of our heads
So we look down with our hands stretched
For crumbs
And bottoms open for humiliatory fucks at their will

II
When will this blindfold fall?
When will we heed our ancestors call?
When will we play the wisdom ball
To clear us from the field of penury?
Will we ever ditch the boos of illiterates of nations great?
Will we ever stop dancing like Korean candies on world stages?
Will we ever stop digging out our own foundations
As we sit in the middle of buildings
Buildings watered by the blood of our forefathers?

III
Help us
Help us please!
Help us from yonder world
To stop this suicidal murder of our nations
This is a plea oh ye ancestors!
A plea to mine our minds as others mine our gold
So you can refine to be gifted as tickets for our hope
For we are sinking low
Low, into hands of even little hunting yellow dogs
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 25, 2019

BLOOD THIRSTY

Hearts now jump from chests into hands
At the mention of byes
Luggage shivering at commuting thoughts
On bloodthirsty baits
Lying straight or curved
Clearly smooth or rough
Bearing tombs or pools
With gluttonous teeth in wait
Crying for attention and getting none

II
How many more ghosts do we need as barriers
At every intersection?
Nsamantwentwen are practically stationed at every point
Wailing their inability to reach destinations hoped
Wishing the past a turnable wheel
Acting like aggrieved children of the uncaring land
Which partook in their painful blood parties

III
With cathedrals taking precedence over ambulances
Bribery scaling fences of law enforcement
And Tramol acting opium of steering minds
How do we hold the dagger of death from smiting the innocent
On traps we have set?

IV
It is sad
The many rotten foods of risks on plates of the poor user!
It is annoying
The many hunting traps in set for many to overtake youths unfilled
In this earthly jungle
There should be a reverse
Where rich rulers wear shoes of the dead for only years of three
Tasting all that pain entails
In losing dears through recklessness
Like road accidents
Then, only then, will sense wake in their greed infested heads
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 24, 2019

LADYBOY

Ladyboy
Are you not under the umbrella of pressure
Having to hide your he in clothes of a she?

II
Ladyboy
Do you not feel the pain of your cracking ego
When you lie beneath for a pounding
Hounding your rear hole?

III
Ladyboy
Even with lubrications
Your rear might have altercations with pain
Oh is it the rule of pleasure parceled in pain?

IV
Ladyboy
Don’t you mostly feel like a toy
Having to act queer to steer
When some fem craves you in a kingly stool?

V
Ladyboy
I know insensitivity has crept into this ink
So punch me not with your sour wits
These questions can just hang on the ropes of my curiosity
So go on and shake those buttocks
Raise your pretty fingers to throw off those non existent hairs from your face
Lilt your voice to seduce your target
And leave this inquisitive ink to dry in no-attention
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 23, 2019

TELL ME WHAT I NEED TO KNOW

Tell me
Tell me what I need to know
Break the ice of secrecy which burns my heart’s core
Please tell me

II
I can’t tell you I saw you lovingly kissing her lips
I can’t tell you I saw how you happily unzipped her zips
I can’t tell you I saw you skillfully unstrapping her bra
So annoying how she cunningly called you “Braa”
I can’t tell you the goosebumps that grew on my skin
As you dug deep into her to fetch her scornful moans from her whoring in
I don’t know what pains more
Her happy cries or your proud cheating?
Her taunting beauty or my starved bed?
Whatever it is, do tell me

III
This chirping bird in my mind can work my hands into harm
So tell me, even if you hide under the cover of her charm
My chest has climbed jealous mountains higher than Afadjato
Still, it runs up and down in fury with no tired traits
So tell me
This face which pretentiously smiles
These hands which with a little shiver serve
These legs which move around
All call for your head
So tell me
Leave not my mind to host dialogues of veins
So tell me
So I can fold my mat and leave your hut
Hearts after all are like boiling water
Once they are taken off the fires of bad love
They simmer to cool
So please tell me
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 3, 2018

THE STATE OF FATE

This is the state of fate
Where every second hang foot-wears and paths
For naked and blind feet to step into
Knowing nothing that awaits
Not thorns nor sticks
Nails nor smooth roads
Trees nor shrubs
Rains or sunshine

II
This is the state of fate
Where every day holds spectacles for unsuspecting eyes
Who like blind folks wear what is to be worn in a higher script
And play parts on stages which arrested their control
Long before their births

III
This is the state of fate
Where own will was colonized before conception
Beautiful lies!
Handsome deceptions!
Pathetic boldness!
Slaves in a make believe apparel of royalty!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 25, 2019

BEASTS IN FLOWERS

Only a devil will push his tail in a nation
Forcefully
Only a pig breaks into a temple to leave prints of dirt
Happily
Only a coward chases to have what is not theirs
Possessively
Sit, take out your consciences
Polish, clean out the monstrousness
And put them back
If you can’t, just cut that tail
There are tailless ones who leave this earth unstained with blame
Think, rethink and choose
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 28, 2019

APPEALING FOR MURDER

There is a cave deep down this mountain of chaos
Sewn with stones at its entrance by the thread of greed
In there are tears of the broken
In there are the songs of those dumb by fear
Therein lie the youth of troubled children
Oh in there lives the hope of the poor
Their pride hugging their humanity there too
Please, send no vulture to tear the thread of the stone
In spying if they still live
For they have been there too long
That their owners have already performed their funerals
Too bad their dignities also live in that cave
Making their mourning a public affair
To the happy eyes of they who left their consciences as skilled guards
To the precious parts of my beloveds
They who revere in their own strength in hunting humans
And taming them into their faithful dogs
They who are protected by the famished barks of the hungry
Loved by the blind sight of the lost
Worshipped by souls who have lost touch with discernment
And so their perverted laughters walk the street and roam the caves
Butchering maimed souls

II
Send no hawk in spying if the precious parts of my beloveds liveth
I fear they’d also see the hopelessness and come back
To hunt their chicks
Who are born dishonoured
Send no ant in spying too
I am afraid they might find a little hole to crawl therein
Stealing in bits bites to save for their rainy season
Just send your sword to relieve their necks of the burden of carrying their heavy heads
Heavy heads filled with mounds of tiredness
Sand of shamelessness
Mountains of unrecognized hard work
And sealed with skulls heavily built with metallic manipulations
To believe what once was as what never was
And what is as the norm of chains necessary for ghostly freedom
There will be no blood for a blood bath
So worry not Mantsɛ
You know they’ve all been drained and replaced by diesel of religious dementia
So they will fertilize the land
And the happiness will be in seeing the lords hunger like slophs
As their untrained hands rebel in working
Their currency-pampered feet demonstrate in moving
And their egos cry their fall from crowns to their own feet
End this eyesore Onukpa
And let the land die to live
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 22, 2019

TO THE POINT OF GUILT

This space
This space beyond fear
This space drained of tears
This space with no claws of penury
This space where different colours of freedom pimp my ride
This space opened to curiosity of carelessness
This space where arms of start-overs stretch
This space debtors slip off to their far falls to a never rising end
This space where ropes for my roboting cut themselves loose
This space where all paths of deceits are blocked
This space where mirrors of pity are extinct
This space where true independence befriends
This space where no eyes hang on skies of superiority
This space of no restrictions
All opening up to a fondness of your gone
Drives me to a point of guilt
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 18, 2019

MY FIRE

Not every bee around honey is its producer
Some look to steal, acting among
Not every raised hand is for praise
Some are up to act as trap cues
I can see the mischievous fans
Hiding murderous intentions in fanning
While parcelling love with smiling
Oh you fake fans!
You can try all you can
But the air to kill my fire resides not in your fans!

II
If my fire were yours to take out
Your sweats wouldn’t need to shout out
Your wrists wouldn’t need to think bouts
Your eyes wouldn’t cry to red out
Your smile wouldn’t brighten to crack out
Your strength wouldn’t rebel to die out
Say what you may
Eyes of your dark record your struggles

III
It is laughable you know
Strong trees have connived with bored air
To get this fire out and failed
Storms have flirted with seas
To get this fire out but failed
Typhoons have acted foxes to try their luck but miserably failed
Tsunamis have broken seas, killed many important fishes
To get this fire out but oh so failed
Do you think your common fan can out
What its heavenly superiors failed to?
My chuckle hides in sympathy for your pain
Oh I hope frustration tears not the veins of your sanity
In my chase

IV
When I fall looking at you, it is out of my charity
To see you at least feel better
But these bones malleably made will never die in a fall
Not a fall from your push
So fan a whistle with killer rumours
Fan little fires in dry grasses under my care
Try to block my angelic air strengthening my fires
And see if your fan catches not fire
To lynch you out

V
I am fire only the Lighter can quench
In own day and time
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 15, 2019

FEAR

If there is a fire that lights the path of mistakes
Surely, fear is its lighter
If there is a wire that electrocutes dreams in pregnancy
Surely fear constitutes its positives and or negatives
If there is a chair in hell
Pushed thither in swiftness
Fear surely has a hand therein
For farfetched fumblings felt for forced fainting is
Feasibly fenced by fear

II
It hovers
Hovers around wishes like dogs
It hovers
Hovers around hard work like famished lions
It hovers
Hovers around success like untamed monsters
It surrounds
Surrounds will like prison for hardened criminals
So break free

III
Don’t you?
Don’t you want to open that fearsome gate of your fear
To see what lies within?
Don’t you?
Don’t you want to walk across the threatening fire
To see what lives
What lives and breathes so guarded?
Don’t you?
Don’t you want the freedom of cuffing fear and throwing it
To the jeers that you pursue?
What will be the worst in your trying?
Even death is a cocoon of freedom
Fenced tightly by daunting fear
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 27, 2019

CRACKING THROUGH (For the depressed)

Winds of confusion snake through unseen corners of minds
Throwing dust on enthusiasm in the darkness of loving eyes
Breaking dignities and will to live
All the while working from within to without like a bomb in a living being
Without showing signs on bodies
So let’s beware
II
Look beyond smiles
And listen through the fine
Care for the supposed cared
And speak to cankers hidden miles within hearts
Take walks with shining stars
To squash lonesomeness hidden in reverence
Hug unreachable souls
And seek some help from psychological experts
Pray only for faith and let God help experts work to save bodies
We need to be alert like hunting lions
To protect our own and help us live
To help us live
Live with each other to our lives fullness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 9, 2019

THE AMMUNITIONLESS WEAPON

Aminata thought and thought
Is she to give her youth to this brown leaf
Ready to fall off the tree of life
And watch her green Musa in another’s arms?
The thought brought shivers down her spine
But which weapon of a mouth does she have
To stand on the battlefield of parental war
To reject Mba Salifu, her father’s chosen?
Marry she must but a plan must save
So she did think

II
The night saw no sleep as she all of it planned
From beneath to the top
Swinging to flinging
Doggying to standying
Fucks after fucks after fucks after fucks
Mba Salifu thought it adorable at first
Then skeptical, then frustratingly fearful!
His home became his hell
Always tiptoeing never to be caught
To be sexually flogged
For there were no mornings in Aminata’s dictionary
She knew not the heat of the afternoons
The serenity of the evenings gingered her on
And the thrills of the night energized her
She was like a bull overworking her master

III
Wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi wɔi!
This young lady can push this old tree down the tip of death’s cliff
“I must free this bird so I can peacefully sleep on my bed”
And so it was
In a week plus its second subordination
Blaming his ill health for a parting
She led her like a lamb
Home to the bosom she cherished
To be able to blossom together
Aminata’s mischievous smile hides her answer today
As Musa still questions how she did it
A kiss clears his thoughts always
She will never tell him
She will never tell him about the ammunitionless weapon
Which secretly fought the society and won for them their love
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 3, 2019

THE BARE BRUTALITY

(Written at the Genocide Centre in Kigali)
There is a bitter taste in my mouth
Sitting here
Here, where spirits of innocent Tutsi’s fight back tears of their loss
Here, where their few leftovers go and come
Like struck sheep
Still knocked out by degrading shocks
Even after years are nearing their thirty steps
Only my fingers obey my thoughts
My mouth refuses to open

II
What is this?
Hands of brothers acting on voices of sisters
To murder with clubs and machetes and guns and ropes and fire
As pious rivers were forced to soil themselves by swallowing the innocent?
What brutal forces forced grown men
To throw children like unwanted fruits
Against walls to be horribly deceased?
What deadly seeds grew that anger
Which made sane men hunger for blood of their neighbours?
Which deadly waters served an unquenched thirst
To a point where men took the dignities of women in eyes of carers and
Planted AIDS to germinate bitterness and disgust?
What horrid pills drugged consciences into deep sleep
To create a mess that makes many weep
Just so some egos could dust their needs?

III
I am torn
Torn in pity
Torn in annoyance
Torn in minds oh so vulnerable
Torn in hurts
Torn in pain
Torn in manipulations oh so insane
Torn in bitterness
Torn in shame
Torn in pieces of climbing shocks
Torn in tears
Torn in fears
Torn by years oh so bonkers!
Weeping for my Africa slashed and butchered
Raped and gunned
Spit on and burnt
Slapped and hanged
My Africa nurtured as brutes and made to work
To dent a history
A history of love!
My Africa whose breath still works even through the torment!

IV
I pray for a border to stop the bother
And a sanity to cancel insanity
I pray for happiness to burn the pain
And a peace refreshner to kill the rage
I pray for a haunting to chase farmers
Of cruelty of us against our ours
I pray for immunization of this hellish genocide
For love to thrive in place of hate
I pray for baits knotted by mischiefs
To turn around to bite hands of their masters
I pray for us to guide our ours
And kill our hunters so known as sires

V
Never again must this rope stifle us into shedding our greens!
Never again must those machetes
Butcher our fathers and pierce hearts of our brothers!
Never again should we be compelled
Like impoverished merchants
To buy bullets for our firing!
Never again!
Never ever again must we turn penises to rape our women and unright their fate
Never ever again must that dark drown our blackness with its beauty and dignity
Tribe never defined but refined and must so sit to better us in dynamisms
This scar will forever be but must actually remind us
To be soldier ants
Guarding our safety through brotherhood and sisterhood and motherhood and fatherhood
Long live Rwanda!
Long live the continent!
Long live the Africa who has seen and felt it all!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 7, 2019

THE PENSIONER-TODDLER

We are here
A stop from the suppression there
Like the lost freshly liberated
We are here
Knowing not what is fair
Like a set of fowls in hungry-hawk-city

II
We are here
A hop from the crying square
Like bloodied and maimed warriors
We are here
Still fumbling and walking bare
Like toddlers

III
Through storms of hurricanic dollars
The cedi battles
Through fits of political schemers
Our peace wins on tickets of democracy
Through tornadoes of academic manipulation
Our scholars soldier on
Isn’t it great that we are under our loving umbrella
Whirlwinds before storms before tsunamic corruptions?
Oh we are loving
Loving through it all
Our memories acting as temporary slates
Our dense problems always fading like sick entertaining jokes

IV
Today let’s celebrate
Kente on Kete
Fugu on Jera
Skilled muscles on agbadza
Mmari-ntama on ahenema
As fufuo and abɛnkwan wait on mastery stomachs
Tuo and ayoyo wait on warrior intestines
Ampesi and abomu wait on skilled teeth
Ɛtiw and mfantse-mfantse wait on brave throats
As akple and fetri-detsi look forward to smooth rides through happy throats
Forget not the nsa-fufuo
Nor the pito talk less of brukina and lamugin
Oh we’re so winning so let’s so celebrate!

VI
We know we are pensioner-toddlers
Biting ourselves where it hurts
Mishandling our flowers of development
And squashing fruits of our success stories
But we’ll figure all out
And get there
There
Where sense stubbornly dwells
We will adorably get there
Through dreams and hurts
As fleas or eagles
As dogs or lions
We will figure it all out
As we journey through
Just as Gold Coasted us into Ghanaians
For we dwell on freedom
And ride on justice
Long live Sikaman!
Long live Ghana!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 6, 2019

A HEROINE’S WELCOME

Mark it
You, you and you
Who have used my most precious thing
As tool to shoot my pride
Your hands will clap at the rebellion of your heart
Soon, very soon
When the world asks that you stand
To give me a heroine’s welcome

II
Mark it
You, you and you
Whose teeth jubilate at my fall
Your smile will painfully be fucked in mouth tearing
When I stand there
There
Where the spotlight felicitatiously shines
Making your smile imperative
I can’t wait to see that smile that digs bile in your mouth
As you give me a heroine’s welcome

III
Tell them
Tell he, she and they
Whose tongues happily wag at the storms
Which robot my dance of shame that
Soon
Very soon
Those tongues would be forced to carry my best parts
And hawk to convince the already convinced world in a buying
Just to feel belonged
In my heroine’s welcome

IV
Tell them
Tell he, she and they
That my sun has risen under these clouds
Oh tell them
Tell those legs helping hands to wake the sleeping
To see the pain I wear
That a moon hurries to this darkness
A sun waits to replace it when it works and tires
And when it finally appears
All yous giggling in twos
Will rise in a painful ovation
Yes, a very painful ovation
To give me a heroine’s welcome
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Feb. 21, 2019

INSENSITIVERS

“Eii w’ayɛ fine o
Wo body no aba kama”
Whatever parcels of meanings you hide
In this sentimental showdown
I’ll have you know
That I didn’t fetch an angel from my land of pleasure
To label him burden
Unfortunate are the years of toil
Unfortunate are the years of struggle
Unfortunate are the years of emotional trawma
But if a real victim lived amidst the horror
It would be he who fought hard and exited grandly
He whose real foods were bitter pills and herbal drills
He whose real water were smelly concoctions impossibly undrinkable
He who was more than a lab rat for certified doctors and fake prophets
He who felt the thunders of seizures and storms of many sicknesses
And had his body on high fires of fevers more than half of each month
He who battled thrice paralysis and won
Worked like a bull by physiotherapists
He who tried hard to box language in actions mostly without success
And lived with the frustration
He, who I summoned into reality to live in suffering

II
So I’ll have you know
He was not to blame
He is never to be blame
Blame must never walk out of your mouth alongside his name
No implications must be sent to my ears no matter how well parcelled
Laying of blame certification lies with me only
And I boldly say
The real blame lies on sickness
Which burdened him more than I
This weight could be stress of letting the self go
After losing my most precious part
So shut it!
You insensitivers!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 16, 2019

ON BEADED WINGS (18+)

On this beautiful day, I come like a knightess, to defray your pickle
Oh be in the mood for a tickle
For there will be a suckle
That will call for an enchanting wriggle
Summoning many an amazing giggle
So let afrukuto, all-fall-down, azuikoto, som-ma-me-nyɔ with patrikotum mingle
And shame days that documented you a single!

II
Prepare beads to beautifully sing
Flying on many a jumpy but cuddly wing
Making sure interest, enthusiasm and goosebumps bring
There should be no difference between loving and a fling
As passions form in forms of a queen and king
Leave all the fickle in tickles around giggles on a beaded wing

III
Let fate write your bait
Freeing all tied and murderous hate
For your loving slate long fixed this date
Open the need-pores of a gate
So you can bliss create with your mate
To reach the station of your orgasmic state

IV
On this day
All actions must say
All lonely nights must merge to lay
To make a historic satisfaction hay
To cross out many a painful waits in past may
To, like angels arriving in heaven, feel a welcoming okay
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Feb. 14, 2019

Photo Credit: Google Pics

FLAMES

Expectations hide in this day
When hearts hide wishes dreamt about in telepathic conversations
Maybe Valentine needed bars on his emotions
And not his person

II
There are those who wear beautiful handcuffs applauded
By society as crowns
Hiding fountains of tears caused by deceptions unmentionable
They may be paraded but with their hearts silently in grinding machines
Why many eyes in watch somersault in envy is still a mystery
Maybe the unhave’s excitement blinds minds of hearts

III
There are those who chase after those chasing after naughts in trousers
Or skirts
Their realities hiding in bottles which knock them out in pity
They call it unfair but to the world it is square
Unfortunate are those whose halves are in wombs of tombs
Red painting sadness in daunting loneliness

IV
There are those whose knees are rebelling
Against their tasting of hard floors in submission
For partners far from the praying premises
Their lonely beds sympathetic but without locomotion to help in the search

V
Yet there are those who have them in line
From Kwadwo to Kwesi in their different shapes and sizes;
Like a rich man’s child with interest in toy collectibles,
Well timed in gift submissions and outing appointments
Agyawaadwo!

VI
Still there are those who carry themselves on pans for sale
Mercies for the lonely and perhaps the unloved
Unfortunate are those whose rivers of clear happiness
Have been muddied because of poverty
Their only makeup hiding in days where Valentine
And his gifts are long forgotten

VII
Thankfully, there are those like stars lighting themselves up in the dark to glow
Needing none to flow in self appreciation
Whatever you are
Whoever your heart calls out to
However you hope
It is one day out of many
Which deserves no commotion
The nation of love is built everyday until breath parts body
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 14, 2019

EXPECTATIONS

Give me a stone and I will see the glaring message
“Heart of mine, trip all you can, I will be here to catch your falls”
Give me ordinary sand and I will smile at the sweetness of thought
That says “Even if we turn dust, this heart will you belong”
Even the stinking end of food will communicate love staying potent even in filth
But it seems I am only one, living like an anachronistic prop
Unneeded in this nation of love
Days are peeling decorum and appreciation
Off the surface of Cupid’s possession
Showing the bones of greed where flutters used to dwell
When souls bind
Gifted nothings are given meaningful somethings
And kept in hearts for years to dig smiles of remembrance, gestures rule after all
But now, flowers are met with frowns
Their happy outstretched hands of meaningful gestures
Flawed by their wilting traits
Handkerchiefs whose beautiful significance of wiping tears
Keeping clean in cold
And wiping dirt off significant others
Are given tags of inexpensiveness
How did living in the country of love become so costly?
How did it turn mines to be dug by seekers of gold?
How did we get here?
We need self checks before we end up throwing away hearts
Ready to die in our steads because of blinding glitters
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 14, 2019

ONCE IN A LIFETIME

Overflowing
Blood of hearts merged and urged by fate
In there, everyday models Valentine’s deeds
Harvesting laughter in serene happiness
Many are in the embrace
Eating from the plates of love with the fork of contentment
It makes me turn Michael Bolton’s tune into a question
Are you the one he sings of for me in
“Once in a lifetime
You find the one you really love
For now and forever
One love that never ends
Once in a lifetime
When every star that lights the sky
Will shine with one reason
Leading your heart to the one love you find
Just once in a lifetime?”

II
What am I asking for?
A heart with a heartbeat of trust, care, tenderness and determination
What am I giving?
A heart with a heartbeat of trust, care, tenderness and determination
What am I hoping for?
A she and a he
Turning into a we
A me and a you turning into us
So I am asking again
Are you the one for me in Bolton’s
“Once in a lifetime
You find the one you really love
For now and forever
One love that never ends
Once in a lifetime
When every star that lights the sky
Will shine with one reason
Leading your heart to the one love you find
Just once in a lifetime?”

III
What could a we do?
Dance under naked skies
As stars and the moon sing melodies just for us
Fingers laced to stand strong in winds and storms mischievously cooked up by life
Shoulders readily available at every forming of our tears
Hands readily holding when the earth’s slimes trick us into falls
A walk together to the end
So please answer the question
Are you the one Bolton sings of for me in
“Once in a lifetime
You find the one you really love
For now and forever
One love that never ends
Once in a lifetime
When every star that lights the sky
Will shine with one reason
Leading your heart to the one that you find
Just once in a lifetime?”

IV
If you are
These hands will never let you go
As libations will be poured on prayers
For all trees to whisper through winds, their prayers for us to stay together
All birds will lend us the strength of their wings
To get through the most difficult of times
So please come clear
Are you the mine in Bolton’s
“Once in a lifetime
You find the one you really love
For now and forever
One love that never ends
Once in a lifetime
When every star that lights the sky
Will shine with one reason
Leading your heart to the one that you find
Just once in a lifetime?”
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 14, 2019

Credit: Michael Bolton’s “Once in a Lifetime” chorus was used.

TIME TO COOL OFF

There is nothing wrong with a break
After a tsunamic life shake
After all, it takes time for scared fishes to travel through rivers
Back to their sea after explosive shivers
So you in the mirror, take time to cool off

II
Eyes close take time to open
After a whirlwind
As its dust takes time to settle
Even breathing still races at its pace before simmering in hearts
After a run
So you in the mirror, take time to cool off

III
Be in no hurry lorry to settle your painful storms
Sit in no worry to drain sad flooding in your overwhelmed heart
Be reasonable and wait for the heat to evaporate
From that heart boiled on fires of hurdles
For a human is a complex machine which needs time to cool off
After overworking its emotions
So panic not, do take your time
Enough time to cool off
You in the mirror
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 20, 2019.

TO THE GREAT DAGBON

There is no ingenious cultural counting
That Sikaman will undertake
Without your number up the charts
Your beautiful fugus on your lovely leather foot-wears
Your beautiful skins worn on your humble floors
Speaking of bravery unseen to all eyes in meet
Your fierce and baffling tongues
Which leave foreigners in lost realms
Oh your many perfect crafts; from baskets to amulets
You sure are unique

II
Only few dots disconnected your perfection
Dots which have now been pieced on strings of peace
And I hope they’d stay that way

III
Oh there is no beauty in a royalty sitting in innocent blood
There is no prestige in climbing royal ladders through many corpses
There is no love in a blood painting on huge stages
The world watches, wanting to see the stamp of aggression
But shock them

IV
Shock them
By smoking the pipe of peace
Holding hands in a barn of protection
Shock them
By singing songs of togetherness
Even through the obvious separations
Shock them
By laughing at your readings and learning from your hurtings

V
Slaps destroy maps for our journey into development
Sticks burn wicks of respect in our needed aspects
Guns break barns of our beautiful histories without needed mysteries
Fires burn our wires of cognition in following eyes
Ropes murder our sanity in the land of our consciences
So let’s do away with those
Replacing them with the tool of dialogues
And the sword of pens

VI
You are so capable of keeping your dirty linens in locked washrooms
Unknown by outsiders
You are so capable
Of raising your youth with worthy examples
And reaping their awesomeness
Let Dagbon dress in peace and dignity
Love and harmony
As the fugus fly floweringly amidst your beautiful many dances
Long live Dagbon!
Long live their peace!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 19, 2019

THIS HOME WE WILL ALL GO

Heads buy thoughts from many sources
As to how it is beneath, ha!
Untrusting, fearing, praying
Souls shiver in spirits which scare bodies
But we know the trip is imperative
No matter our standing

II
I know death is an animal unseen
That whose teeth tire not in chewing
That whose hunt never fails
That animal who lives in a country which has never seen hunger
Talk less of tasted drought
That animal who knows no labels
And has the ever working trap of invisibility
But even he sits for praises in shedding human tree of leaves
To pave way for the new

III
I would rather it is like a python
I can’t think of its teeth touching bodies
I would rather dreams are foreshadows of a nation in death
Where we will see all, but uncertainties shake their heads
While nodding
Making it difficult to be sure

IV
I pray we all meet
No matter how big its stomach
To live through hugs reassuring
To love through our immortal trust in happiness
To laugh though our arrival times unsync
You green ones plucked even before your yellowing browns
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 19, 2019

THE ME OF YOU

Don’t you know me?
Pluck the sun to see my face
I am your future
Waiting patiently for your present as it comes through your past

II
Don’t you know me?
Buy a moon to look very well
I am your final back
Which would be seen by all
No matter the faces you may have shown

III
Don’t you know me?
Bribe the thunders
To hold lightning for a while in my view
I am the end of all your legacies
That which awaits your blame or blessings
That which prays for your footprints to stick in the latter
That very one who cheers
As she waits for the final baton
To speed from our body to myth
So walk well the path as I work our celebratory maths
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 18, 2019

DEVELOPMENT HOUNDS

(In honour of our fallen Tiger Eye journalist Ahmed)

You there wake the one napping there
Let him wake the one snoring there
So we can stand here and wailingly shout
Don’t ask what about
Haven’t you heard about the loss of a touch in this muddy sea we live?
We are shouting to the blood of ancestors who Bosiakoed themselves
Hoping we’d live better
We are going to wail to the restless spirits who hover in regrets
To hold safe our freedom of expression
Taking wicked bigots to the firing squad
Sanctifying mental warlords loving stupendously
Their reigns of power
And chasing voices of liberation into barns of fear
Locking them with huge padlocks of greed

II
We can’t be saddled with pox of poverty
And worry about our mouth pieces being infected with intimidatory dumbness
We can’t be scratching dwiibadwiibaa of corruption
Only for our eyes of hope to be removed
With knives of threats

III
We need the fleshless bones that fear no fall
To stand up to the conscienceless heads that fear dirt loss
We need the weeds out in order to tend to the needed plants!
We need the filthy rivers redirected
So we can clear our only sea hosting and feeding us into generations

IV
They can start with slaps of self awareness!
Then punches of mental fixation!
Then kicks to free the numbed pain veins
Which make it impossible for the their rotten teeth to feel the hurts they inflict on their own selves
If nothing works, they should seize their breaths in ancestral prisons
To clear our paths into tarred roads
To aid our growth

V
How can we be stumps forever
When rains of blessings fall from our sky in their seasons
Into our blessed loamy soils
Feeding our blessed roots?
What will be in our keep vault
When our drinking tanks have been replaced with baskets
Hidden in our many pored earth?

VI
So help call them to come
So we start the wailing
To draw our ancestors’ attention
To the imminent death of our little freedom
To avoid a future of mourning our only torch
Which leads in our days turned nights
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 17, 2019

YOU’VE BEEN ATE A LION’S EATING

You’ve been ate a lion’s eating
Your pot licked clean like an asanka of a famished seer
Even the veins in your womb have been drained of blood
Which shares your hope to other parts of your emaciated body
Why won’t every child come sensely vacant?

II
You’ve been ate a lion’s eating
No wonder your bones of failure
Precede your little flesh of freedom
How will milk in your breast not travel
Through dubious tunnels to be suckled by children of over ambitious schemers?

III
You’ve been ate a lion’s eating
Oh see how the pain makes you immobile
Sitting like simpa panyin as your exploiters
Dig your gold in the shine of your eyes
Moaning at the pleasure of your aiding leisure
And thanking the chains of your imprisoned mind for their treasure

IV
You’ve been eaten a lion’s eating
You’ve been licked a dog’s licking
You’ve been chewed in absurd kissing
Oh mother in whose womb the rains of need flood
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 17, 2019

I OWE YOU NOTHING

There is a laughter building up in the grounds of my stomach
Laughter which needs thousand voices of lionesses
To bring its intensity to ears
Whose mouths are shamelessly asking
Asking for a family building when they know
I just arrived from a war after losing a castle
A castle which was bombed after a fierce and long struggle
And I thought they’d know better

II
I owe you nothing!
Nothing at all
Not my pleasure and my time
Neither my winking nor my tickling
Not an announcing belly talk less of a tiring weakness
Neither an expected cry nor an honouring suckle
I so owe you none
Nothing at all!

III
I have taken the reigns of this horse I see in the mirror
This horse ridden by opinions into unions which bore nothing but pain
I have taken the reigns of this chariot
This chariot which carried more burdens than it could take
I am taking my time to wait for death’s call
Attending to cravings of delicacies hitherto neglected
Attending to yearnings of travelling left in past skies of fantasies
And gathering drops of pure laughter to use as makeup
When hidden challenges punch in unexpectedness
I owe you nothing, you and I know
Nothing at all!
So stop pestering!
You nosy trouble makers
Whose footsteps vanish after your handiworks!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 16, 2019

WISDOM

Educate your root to groom its tree
For the tree will in turn groom its flowers
And the flowers will bloom fruits in the grooming

II
A strong foundation is the trusted seat
Of a good building
So dig well with best pickaxes
Clear well with best shovels
Mix well the foundational mortar
A good blend of cement of responsibility, sand of respect, stones of care and water of love

III
Many empty vessels roaming in the name of beings
Would have transformed better from their fragile spermatozoa
After meeting ovaries
If these basics were solidified
So groom well your roots
And be sure to strengthen your foundation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan 15, 2019

I AM A WITCH

I am a witch!
Yes, a witch!
That witch who flies on the broom of hard work
Through canoes of the night
Paddling with rumours of the bored
On rivers of the covetous
Hoping to reach the sea of success
Without your sweats of bother
So hide not in calling

II
I am a witch!
Yes, a magnanimous witch!
That witch who attacks with claws of kindness
Heads filled with guns of hatred
In baffling shadows of keen watching sunlight
Excelling in hard tests in classes of unseen teachers
So fret not in my addressing

III
I am a witch!
A very shameless witch!
One who murders wickedness with vampire teeth
In beautiful hearts in surgery beds of hope
Dripping with blood of love to charm the indifferent
And singing devilish songs of praises at my soul winning abilities
Am I not a super witch?
So why hide in calling?

IV
Call me in dignity and show your reverence!
Kneel in a call and bow in politeness!
Serve my every need and be my every feed!
You have made me superior to humans
And so I deserve the stool of your heads!
Lest I kill all who dishonour my super powers without mercy!
I did come well! Ɔ-baa-yie-foɔ!
So why shouldn’t I ride in my queenly palanquin while your eyes shiver?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 13, 2019

MENZGOLD OR MENZZERO? (Crazy Stanzas)

There has been a huge rain of evidence
Spelling FACT in bold
Of the rot that pilolo as myth in this nation
What does it take to buy the land?
Stamps of high stools bought by currencies without solid roots!
Pictures of first personalities whose camera is set
By fundings whose stem dazzle to blind at the sight of rotten roots!
And you call this a nation?

II
There is no way tree tops won’t know the plans of naughty birds!
There is no way the grounds of the wicked
Will know not his steps even through a tiptoe!
There is no way a danceable sound can come from Fontomfrom
Without skilled hands or well shaped sticks!
If you hear a moooo, know it comes from a cow!
Oh so praises bought with rot eventually stales to stink?
Nana o! Nana nieee! Ɔkronfoɔ no wɔ he?
These two are separated by just a thin line!
It is funny, how money bought appellations of handsomeness for a normal name
Which now stands naked with a dumpster hole
Receiving curses with tears
Over-stored urine of anger
Fecal rots of insults
Painful reactions of suicides
As security eyes of millions look through even needle holes for his body!
Tweakai! Agyawaadwo!

III
How did this Jesus example pull through this modern time?
Hailers turning jail callers? Oh Judas and the cocks! Chai!
This time, look out not for an awakening of redemption!
Just ask the right questions of the how
How did this come to be?
I will say greed used as bait on mousetraps of bought validations!
From Dumas to Buari!
Vicker to Dumelo!
Stars have brightened a stinking deal to milk many dry!
Shame on you!
Shame on us!
Shame on he whose bigger plan made fools of more nations than two!
Shame on money!
Shame on fame!
Shame on intelligence whose biggest formula
Flaws many an elites in revered seats!
See how many wear masks of shame like badges of honour!

IV
We now know how easy highest beings
Can fit into pockets of the ordinary!
Nyantakyi! Bɛgye wo boɔ ɛ!
We now know all twinkles brighten not in fair shine!
Seeing as apopobibire has been mistaken for a well maintained lawn!
We see how one man has bought skirt of disgrace for our nation’s grace
Yet we sit as though we know not the stench of corrupt farthing!
Aniwuo nie!

V
I clap for the genius
Who can get another face
And live in our midst like one without blemish!
I clap for his deeds which have made a statement
Of how wealth ignores even shouting facts!
Now let us all use our little fingers
To touch our rears
After staying without bathing for a whole week and over
And smell it
For we made it possible!
Possible for NAM to make us ɛnam on his ridiculing meal!
So our canes must go for those in our mirrors
Looking deeply into our eyes!
Look not just for him in far and near
Look for him from within
Within you who are tickets for every corruption
Through trains of bribery in your deep pockets!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 11, 2019

MODELLING UNSEEN PAIN WITHIN

I look at the grieving me in any mirror
And see the monstrous horns of horror
I think about the remaining you in the cold
In between the teeth that earth crush in fold
Then I remember I was told
There was a concrete with cement sold
To the mouth of the earth through the cold
Still I think, will you be served to the moth
Who will enjoy you with a ketchup of rot?
Always at that point, this your earthly maker, feels caught
And extremely tortured by fear that conscience bought
From even the least mistakes that contributed
To your transformation into the dish of death
Then she detests her legs for stepping on the earth
And her body for riding on its legs
Knowing you are in there
Oh this is so unfair!

II
Cruelty is missing a dear
Whose voice you can never hear
Though the distance is only six feet deep
Deep loving’s machete is definitely heartbreakage of parting
I am butchered in so many pieces
Pieces of disdain
Pieces of insanity
Pieces of fretting
Pieces of regretting
Pieces of hurting
Pieces of stressing
Pieces of disbelief
Pieces of psychosis
Pieces of hate
Pieces of bitterness
Pieces of blame
Pieces of begrudging
Pieces of God taunting
Pieces of loss
Pieces of self pity
Pieces of slugging
Pieces of devastation
Pieces of cursing
Pieces of pleading
Pieces of praying
Pieces of fear
Pieces of tears
Pieces of the clumsy
Pieces of burning
And pieces fighting for calm
All beaded and adorned on the bones of this ghost
Which parades the me which hypocritically lives like an unharmed
You are in my blood
You are so in my veins
You are engraved in my bones
Carved deeply in my heart
Hanging as a huge portrait in the chamber of my mind
Never ever to be forgotten
Kwadjo Opoku Ahwinie!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Dec. 31, 2018