AUTOMATIC SCANNERS

They move
They move like automatic scanners
…to register the front
…and especially the back
No matter the hard hitting bricks
…that prick their dicks
…to prompt a trick
They can’t help it
Such is their wiring

II
Let the goddess of beauty be in arms
…a demonic spirit
…dressed in dying plantain leaves
…in passing
…will get the quick scan
…blanking seconds into minutes off their time

III
Let the queen of love be on laps
A shaking behind will get the look
Even if there are known awaited slaps
There is no fear in the look book
Such is the wiring of predators

IV
Perhaps, Odomankomah might have made them
…automatic documentors of our kind
Checking the front and measuring the behind
Mostly thinking so loud about their lustful grind
…and sometimes doubting the artistry
…of the Most High

V
So look when muscles ring in walks
Enjoy when chiseled-sticks bell their fronts
Take pictures of the best of them
…to build your fantasies
…instead of fighting a lost battle
For those eyes are trained helpless
…to check out all curves and mounds
…shapes and sizes
Whenever and wherever they see warm
…and pliable beings
Yes, such is the wiring
…of eyes of men
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 10, 2019

I AM ERICA

I Am Erica
Snow blissed but cold hissed
…divided into different earth in the nick of an unpick

II
I Am Erica
Wearing fate of hate
…in an own turning alien bait
After greedy passersby
…uprooted other rooted
…into savage replants
…knowing not I am compatible
…with their fertility
Time is belling the shift of ownership
…in the ears of their unrested spirits

III
I Am Erica
A woman who has married many a ruling man
…but yet to taste the touch of a woman
Although fem-fem is now norm
…in my various dorms

IV
I Am Erica
Now ridden by a bully bull
…whose fingers walk the world in folly
…with negligence overriding their intelligence
As frightened hair stare from a Korean candy head

V
I Am Erica
A divisive diversity cut into many voices
Those with power swallowing
…those with less or none

VI
I Am Erica
I have long tasted supremacy
My head-swelling, fushing down like liberated air
…from a high handed baloon
As Chin Chuns now battle me fair and square

VIII
I Am Erica
My reverence waning with my aging
…like tooth after tooth falling out of a lion’s mouth
…with every turning of years
My sneezing affecting less and less
…of my subjects
…who used to catch cold at my sniffling

IX
I Am Erica
Owned by a dying skin
…owning a rising skin
What will be the fate of my states
…in fair rates
…on future plates?

X
I Am Erica
Guns at my beck and call
…bombs on my trail
…drugs burning my reasoning
…into avoidable shootings
Boosting careers in imprisonment

XI
I Am Erica
The ever greatest!
The ever beautiful!
The ever magnanimous!
Ever the Knightess
With cancerous intestines
…threatening a tell on my body
…with every second time travels
I still wear awesome
…in eyes of many?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 9, 2019

TRAUMA

Trauma is like stroke
It strikes at once
…but heals
…if it will
…like a star famished conceited bride walking down the aisle
Hanging breaths with the rope of anxiety

II
A brush of hardwork
A clash of fear
A rush of impatience
A flush of hope
A gush of anticipation
A hush of pessimism
A push of will
…are all options served
…with multiplicity of choices
When trauma is on the seat of a body

III
For it sits not only on the body
…but footmats the spirit
…and spits on the soul
Writing on their visible boards
…fright of the unknown

IV
An overcomer climbs to gain its worship
…and is awarded with a badge of strength
An overcome turns sheep
…hanged and dragged to the abattoir of failure
…beheaded by a knife of shame
…as pity watches with happy enemies

V
Varied traumatic hits
…with its varied wins
…create a fearsome spirit
…and a soul worthy of reverence
So know the foe
…called trauma
…and fight it squarely
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 8, 2019

SAND IN EYES

Sometimes truth lies in deep forests of lies
…calling great hunters
…for their find
Praying voices of lions of deception
…scare not rightful hands
…in their fetch

II
Sometimes truth hovers
…around lies like a bothersome fly
…wishing to be seen or heard
…but mostly drown in power frowns
As raindrops drown in rivers

III
Sometimes truth sits and stares
…daring the fair in a sensitive chair
Flanked by fears so ferocious
…with bullets in hands of bullies
Causing eyes to concoct lies
…in their cover

IV
It is sad that in my realm
…truth mostly walks its talks
…preceeded by whirlwinds of lies
…which throw sands in eyes
…blinding
Making lies our focus
…as truth loses its identity
…in total blindness
This is our sadness in madness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 7, 2019

AN INKY WARRIOR AT REST (For Toni Morrison)

When a big tree with strong branches
…and healthy leaves
falls
The earth shakes in fear and sadness
…not because of the weight and bruise
But in mourning for the many beaks
…the many mouths
…the many buttocks
Who have been stripped off their benefactor
…with all her healing touches
The more we wail
…the clearer our reason of loss
Damirifa due Maame Morrison!

II
As we mourn your loss
…we know your horn of felicitations blow wild in the yonder world
…leading your martyred spirit back home
…birthing your immortal soul here
…here- where blacks lack less because of your crack
…on unreasonable reasoning so dark
To reach parked consciences
…backed into dark quarters of humanity
Ayekoo our Dear Dear Blessed Beloved
…turned Saint in love

III
When humanity suffered a coma
…and blacks suffered the trauma
…of the inhumane hammer
…nailing them onto woods of animals
Pairing prized ebonies with monkeys
…making them donkeys
…and locking them in murderous rooms of slavery
…with no known keys
You were one great manna
…which fell amidst the non-empathetic hunger struggle
…and told the world with words
…which painted clearer pictures than colours
…of the poison of cruelty
…dressed in slavery
…overlooked by supremacists
…as it consumed souls with its gluttony

IV
You’re one of the topmost Iron ladies
…who wielded a real sword
…in ink
You’ll forever be that beautiful brain
…who fought on the field of slavery
…and conquered more soldiers of hate
…than many pious soldiers with great ammunition could
Only with your words

V
Goddess of literacy!
Sun of fairness!
Moon of clearer perspectives!
Ɔbaa brane a wo fata nsamerane!
The woman with More Reason well parcelled as Morrison
Get your pampered rest
…as we continue your noble quest
You did do more than your best
…and deserve a fulfilling crest
…worthier than your imagination could fetch

VI
Nnaase o!
Akpe o!
Oyiwaladɔɔn for the eighty eight years of living which will last through all lifetimes!
Thank you warrior extraordinaire!
For all you were
For all you’ve been
For all you achieved
For all your wealth of knowledge
…which will protect humanity for all lifetimes
Damirifa due
…due due ne amanehunu!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 6, 2019
In honour of Toni Morrison (February 18, 1931 – August 5, 2019)

Photo Credit: Google Pics

IF YOU WANT ME

There are many shiny glasses
…showing me in cool classes
Acting editors of my reality
Ably aided by clothes of my smiles
But be not fooled

II
I am a garden
…a garden with varying tenders
…who left dents
…which their followers rent to further dent
…and soon register their can’ts
…leaving close watchers with swearing shan’ts

IIIa
My seed of trust has been brutally butchered
…like the meat of a ruthless butcher
…working in a tight deadline
…killing its germination prowess

IIIb
The new shoot of my care
…was chewed by an ungrateful goat
…which strayed in
…when my fence of defence was broken down
…by a mischievous bull

IIIc
The maize of tenderness
…which grew to a level
…has been pushed down by mean winds
…its roots almost destroyed
…by a murderous rain
Leaving it gasping for breath

IIId
The tree of my love
…has not fruited
…since vultures developed taste for them
…and feasted till all leaves and flowers
…were completely chewed
When they wanted to upgrade
…from scavenging
Should I mention the many farmers
…who cut deep its vital branches
…in the name of parcelled greed called pruning?
Funny, they complained of me not providing shade
…afterwards

IV
So unless you’re a skilled farmer
…do not attempt my venture
For bees of bitterness have built their homes
…at all the comfort zones
…barely providing honey
…and feeding on even legs
…who just pass by

IVb
You’ll have to be a rainmaker
…a sun moderator
…and an air host
To be able to recover anything
…from my farm
The only side to my attraction
…is the fertile land
…covered by all the destruction of thorns
…with the hovering beastly bees
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 6, 2019

TASTE A SINGLE 30

Immaturity is poison
…to reason
Inexperience is an axe
…which cuts the tree called Relax
…forcing a fretting failing tax
So greens must grow their buds into queens
…to up their knowledge genes
…in order to clear their eyes to see
…differences between noble frees
…and unworthy fleas
…in the garden of choice
After training their hearts to walk side by side
…with their heads

II
Every woman must taste a single 30
…with a notable accomplishment
…blowing a rating indicating a standard
…before approach

III
Every woman must taste a single 30
…with a worthy aura
This is the sphere where
…she wears the skin of a boss
…throwing many in worded loss
…at the thought of her approach
She has no rush
…even as chasers run
…like best athletes onto her compound
…clashing in crushing
…with different approaches and reactions
…acting comedy on her free screen

III
Her only problem will be daydreaming
…in perfect scenes
…as to the where and when and how
…her knight will grace her night
…in a perfect rite
Because even in lonely haunts, seeds can be bought
…or gotten in free lots
…from the best of choices
…if she chooses to plant in a sole proprietary farming
She sleeps when she wants
…wakes when she wants
…eats what she wants
…buys whatever she likes
…with no one demanding a proposal
…for every detail
Oh just taste a single 30
…in self accomplished womanity

IV
This is where she drives her independence
…like a V8
…attracting jealousies masked in many shades
…without a care
…knowing they have no warrant to cause her arrest
…as she drives on the road of peace
…glowing tastefully as wine does with age
As she receives applications

V
She needs to see the tears from some eyes
…whose knees bend in a begging
She needs to watch as some mouths
…congratulate themselves
…after their ears hear their shaky proposals
…to her
She needs to see the intimidated
…fidgeting to draw a plan
…to her understand
She needs to see the lowest souls
…set traps
…to her attention catch
The jokers will of course
…play the sun setting card
…in hope of arresting her with self pity
…and fear of loneliness
But her perceptiveness sees through the end
…of their plans
The bitter will bring on the bitch card
But the ditches such bitches fall into
…include the peaceful riches that stitch
…their itches into dream-like wishes
Trust me –
…every woman must taste a single 30

VI
Every woman must taste this single 30
…lying on a bed of comfort
…bathing in a tub of freedom
…dining at the table of open mindedness
Her sparkling enchantment
…affording her a bite of appealing fruits
…without a charge of commitment
…with fantastic expectations
While watching the Pick Me channel
If she likes
…she can even choose a toy
…as cast in her hobby play

VII
It is the best gift of nature
…to a flower at its blooming apex
For her nectar is sweetest
…and well filled
…and oh so protected
…but well scented
And needs nothing less than the best bird
…for its partnering harvest
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 5, 2019

THE HELL FIRES OF RELIGION

There was a lamp
…which was made to stamp
…the moral directions of man
It worked well under a ban

II
This lamp gained roots
…after tasting negative boots
And upgraded into electricity
…seeking to brighten many a city
…but now sells them pity
…through flawed supremacentric equity

III
It drains, from heads, waters of discernment
…by twisting the initial commandments
Leaving beneficiaries lost
…at their own cost

IIIb
It turns its shine off in dark sins
…giving some followers bold bins
…of shamelessness even when day wakes
…celebrating with extravagant cakes
…bought from the sweats they rake
…off the naive who believe the road to take
…has shines they keep
…under their dubious beep

IV
Now they have hidden the right poles
And are murdering tiring soles
…which trip on stones
…and break their bones
…of piety
…knowing not their light workers have turned many a deity
Using high voltage
…to their own advantage

V
Their dum has given wings to immorality
…which dresses like morality
And parades in the day
…arresting those with something to say
…with spiritual fears
…and sometimes traditional spears
…hidden in their covered rears

VI
How boldness has climbed a tree
…in all that horrendous be
Beats my imagination
Today, Mathew marks John to kill
…as Luke looks on
Today Joshua judges Ruth
…at Ho sees to Haba cook

VII
A day will come
Hate will be the Psalm
Due will be thrown into an enemy
Gen will walk with nemesis
Jee will sue in stress
And Mo will harm through meds

VIIb
A day will come
Lamentations will lead to revelations of doom
…and water the land
…through the very light with wires believed
…to lead straight to a being
…beyond the sky
If mouths continuously close
…to its electrocution of greed
…and barbaric need of opposing their appointer
…in the guise of His clothes

VIIc
A day will come
…the little left commune vinculum in humanity
…will be broken
…none will be spared the burn
…in the hell fires of religion
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 4, 2019

WHEN A TRACTOR KNOCKS OUT YOUR FACTOR

Sometimes there are many winds
…that pluck all our leaves of confidence
…break the branches of our support
…and leave us empty of pride
At the centre stage of the sun

II
Sometimes
…things that hit us
…can take the sound
…out of the throat of a singer
…and drain all words
…out of the ink of a writer
They can be as severe
…as clearing the thinking tools of philosophers
…and as intense
…as uprooting our will to live
Yes, it can be as serious
…as a murderous tractor
…knocking out your hopeful factor

III
On all hurtful seas
…with their angry boats
…and chasing sharks of taunts
Say nay
…to decay
…that stray
…into your day
Rather lift a yay
…in hope of a bright ray
Even clouds tire
…when they stay too long
…on the face of skies
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 3, 2019

ORGAS MIC

For those who raise their rods
…as Moses did
…to part the red sea on their best halves
…and just walk through
…caring not about the delicate grounds
…they stump on
…going forth and back
…until they shed their semenic enemies
…caring not about the beautiful rains never unshed
You’re horrible hate harvesters
…in your beautiful human farms

II
How can you not pray
…by weeding stress and duress
…calling seeds of care to grow
…on skins you’ll wear?
How can you not work their rains
…to bless your digging
…with moisture?
How can you not be a fence
…to hold onto your beautiful farms
…after your planting?

III
A good farmer harvests great yields of respect
…love
…care
…satisfaction
…tenderness
…and becomes the precious star
…of his farm

IV
This is an advice from Orgas’ Mic
…to all forceless farmers
…facing frights of chaotic homes
…neglecting good play in the fore
…and knowing not why they harvest defeat
…in their farms of love
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 2, 2019

MISSIONS IN VISIONS

There is a rainbow of cheer
In every noble thought
There is a golden line so rare
In every impactful lot
So work your vision
Through a thorough mission
With noble precision
For greed will lead to unfavorable collision
Through to shameful derision
Never before envisioned

II
If you take out the comfort you perceive
From the vision you wish to achieve
You will clearly see the path of success
…and follow to the road of achievement
Right to the stage of celebration
This will lead to an elevation
…worthy of ovation
A great thought
…is the nisus of positive impacts

III
Working heads need no deep carvings
…to see the writings on workable walls
…of success
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 1, 2019

A BAD RUMOUR

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

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

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

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

IT MUST NOT HAPPEN AGAIN

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

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

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

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

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

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

IMMEDIATE RELEASE

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

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

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

THROUGH THE GATES OF HELL

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BEARDY

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

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

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

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

MOTHER IN LAW

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

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

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

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

THE WAY TO RIGHTNESS

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

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

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

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

HERDSMEN

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

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

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

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

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

LESSONS UNLEARNED

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TACTICAL

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

GOD IN NATURE

The God in a bird
…is its singing
…its planting
…and its flying
The God in a dog
…is its servitude
…its protection
…and to some, its companionship
The God in fowls
…is blessings of bells of waking
…lessons of care of chicks
…and still, their delicious meat
The God in pigs
…is the lesson of love even in the gross
…the taste of heaven in filth
…and happiness in being loathed for dirt baths
God in the sun
…is its light
…its rising and setting
…its heat
God in the moon
…is its ability to conquer darkness
…lead the dark-blinded
…and rule the sky
God in beautiful flowers
…is their colour
…their nectar and fragrance
…their lessons of transiency
God is in every piece of nature

II
God is the smile
…which can light a soul
God is the feed of needs
…of one being by another
God is the hand of help
…for every struggling spirit
God is words of comfort
…for all weary souls
God is the seed of trust
…for those in self doubts
God is the healing hugs
…for every sad body
God is the pathfinder
…for the roaming lost
God lives in our goodness
…and our every effort of right
…even in the lesson of our wrongs

III
God is the cheer in every queer
God is the dear in every hear
God is the satisfaction in every food
…the quench-thirst in every cup of water
She is the life in all air
God is the fruit on every tree
She is the shade in every made
God is the take in every stake
The peace in every leisure
That is the God in nature
Not the tricksters on spree
…dancing to possessions
…on Satanic bonded magic flawing beautiful traditions
…their souls owned by their follies
…as they act like immortals with their breakable bodies
…killing the most high with crimes extreme

IV
By all means
…worship God
…the real God
Not any hiding in His counterfeit clothes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 21, 2019

BEYOND SAY

There is everything beautiful
…about a seed
…blown harshly from its mother tree
…luckily into the loam of stardom
And fruiting in abundance
…with capabilities of traveling back
…to help transform
…and feed the culture of its mother roots
…to the world
Beyonce has blown us beyond say

II
There is everything loveable
…about the seed forgetting all torture
…the history of hatred
…the choice of vengeance
…and existing differences
To help build her broken roots
Beyonce has blown us beyond say

III
She is now a moon
…travelling the sky with many stars
…on a beautiful road
…blessing all heads in turn
She is like a beautiful nightingale
…who has found the choir of her motherland
…leading as a mistress
And blessing the world with their soothing voices
Oh Beyonce has blown us beyond say!

IV
If all her seeds will toe her line
…and bless their stages with Africa’s fine
No continent will dare to touch the shine
…out of the progress of the stages of Ebonies
If all the stars will look back home
…and build a part to repair the loss
…of their foundations’ so broken loose
…by years of cruelty now smoothening out
None can parraral the growth of Ebonies
…on development stages
We need more Akons
…and many Beyonces
To arch us on
…and take us beyond say

V
For we will rise above our sinking
…and will paddle on our divided thinking
To merge into flourishing
Conquering bitterness
…and intimidation
To bring smiles to our rolling ancestors
…whose mourning still shine
…in our struggling whine
For we’re one and the same people
…scattered to own the world
…by successful replants all over
As time travels
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 20, 2019

LEACHES OF OURSELVES

All that far far call
…from our rich filled hall
…is what causes our fall
…as others stand tall
All the come go quality whores
…which are rooted at our shores
…eating deep into our own talents’ core
…is what is giving us incompetent chores

II
Why a Sikaman boss
…is made a horse
…ridden by disrespect
…paying for familiarity
…knocks the light out of my sun

III
Many on the land
…climb ladders and ladders of knowledge
…reach qualification’s dock
…but like cob webs
…are swept off lists
…and replaced with even nkyɛnkyɛmas from yonder spheres
…because nature’s natural colour difference
…make scraps from afar more attractive
…than prized minerals from near
Sad

IV
We need to plug our senses
…into a wisdom socket
To know where we stand
…and how to band
…in order to put a hand on hand
…to rise from our fall into a stand
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 19, 2019

SUGAR DADDY

Sugar is the home of sweets
And calls many feet
…at a sight

II
It is like a magnetic attraction
It get many eye fame
…leg fences
…hand worships
…and tongue adoration
Though too much of it
…can take stomachs to schools of discomfort
Sugar never lacks ant

III
That is why I laugh like a maniac
Seeing you clinging to that sugar
…already in a bought container
…with a legitimate spoon

IV
By all means lick the outskirts
The lid seems perfectly tight
…and will not let you in
…without a crash
So madam
…your happy harm
…which is a sham
…in your scam
…will definitely turn stray bullet to hit you
…at your sugaring road side
And daddy will not be in a hurry
…to turn surgeon in your save
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 18, 2019

SELF CONFIDENCE

There is nothing beautiful on a being
…like clothes of confidence
…in jewelry of humility
…and shoes of ambition

II
Low confidence in a self
…is poison
…which when left for long
…can kill opportunities
…and dreams

III
There is no human flaw
…without a brandable window
Self doubt is like bile around liver
…it has its responsibilities
…of balancing passions in ambitions
…and pointing to successful yous
…for your learning zooms

IV
So wear it
…your clothes of confidence
Enhance it
…with jewelry of humilty
…add some cologne of smiles
And face each day
…with its attraction
Pulling awesomeness to you
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 17, 2019

FOREIGN SOAPS KILLING LOCAL CONTENT

The fascination of Ghanaians in watching the Mexican, South Korean, and Indian soaps has gone from ridiculous to worry. It is laughable to see a country once colonised, in the process of development, and still bemoaning the loss of most of our cultural values sink so low, aided and abetted by the media which has decided to break instead of make up for our cultural loss. The movie industry is a very powerful tool in every country. It is the tool used to showcase a country’s culture, which include values, morals, language, fashion, beliefs,  beauty, to mention but few. Ghanaians however, have chosen other country’s culture over ours, stifling the Ghana Movie Industry. 

In today’s Ghana, hardly will you get a television station showcasing only one of these soaps, some run as many as four at a time and during prime time too.

The Ghana I grew to know was a place where decency was revered. It was an abomination to see couples kissing in public, married or not, let alone wearing inappropriate clothes in the name of fashion.

Now what do we see? Not only do women copy what they see through these telenovelas exhibiting their follies in the name of love, they also inculcate into their minds the low morals carried by these soaps. Now ridiculous happenings like two sisters fighting over a man, a father and son killing each other because of a woman, people loving their roles as antagonists caring less about what society considers ill, rule. I believe the most dehumanizing aspect is that people sit, with very prominent people who serve as role models to discuss these soaps. And oh the killer; some stations even translate into the local Akan language infusing our cities and locally made products into them in their bid for advertisement. What are we doing to our country? 

Why will a Ghanaian help another Ghanaian to see himself or herself in a white frame? The very frame whose major population considers us inferior? And oh sometimes, the hyperbolic language translations and the pronunciation errors  pollute students whose parents can’t control them because of the fact that the soaps are everywhere. 

I know the media is a huge factor and may not help out in stopping this menace seen as a money making venture for broadcasting corporations, but in putting a stop to this, the cost involved in watching these things online will make it decrease and with time, the generation polluted will fade out. 

I believe this is a national manipulation which fester on the needs of the lonely and fantasies of illiterates. I know some do have moral lessons but their way of living is different from our ways and this further deteriorates the erosion of our culture. Why do we still kick against homosexuality when we allow such movies on our national screens? Do we not know that homosexuality rules in Mexican soaps and sometimes South Korean ones? Some attitudes and way of life are picked from movies, a fact.

It takes a radical and brave hearted to put a stop to something that has already become the norm, but I believe if investors and the government come together to encourage movie makers to come up with series that will not be based on insults and horrific follies, and they come out like Shirley Frimpong Manson’s Adam Apples, Ghanaians will fully embrace and lift our flag higher on the international market. Loving everyone’s but ours is the worst form of slavery. A canker only the media can spearhead to move this nation forward.

THE LEAVES

The leaves walked from Tamale
…to Wamale
Shiiii, zzziiiiii, shiiii, zziiiiii
…like haunting ghosts in humming hymns

II
The leaves walked from Tamale
…to Wamale
…happily crying from tiredness and imprisoned hard labour

III
The leaves living like locusts in loss
…a beautiful sight for angels
…who have forgotten their God’s commandments
Billions of tears are carried in sacks of fears
…watering the grounds for hovering hounds
Suns and rains and harms and drains
…in worker droughts and famine
The leaves walked from Tamale to Wamale
…then Wamale to Tamale
…Sule sees the unending journey
…but keeps working
…knowing closed mouth means hopelessness
…till homegoing
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 14, 2019

THE HORRIBLE WIRING

The trick stands out in our electricity
The harm is boldened
…in our preferred pharmacy
The ligi, with its silent lɔgɔ, shines out
…in our religion
The cat in our education
…only purrs to manipulations
The con in our economy acts star
…on our impoverished stage
The fence in our defence
…has insecured securities
…who allow all our fears easy passes
As the polls in our politics
…use their cables
…to wire them all

II
Why do we keep the whips in our voices
…when our needs are sacked from our choices?
Why do we bark without biting
…when our teeth are made for protection?
Why do we easily empty memories
…when victimizers become bold
…with their every victory?
Why do we act indifferent
…when the axes in our taxes
…continue to chop off our trees of comfort?

III
It is time to tire toes
…of our thumb-sents turned foes
It is time to keep wake
…so none our development coffers rake
We are in the middle of the change we need
…and its devils in pampering
Let’s cut them down
…and battle through to change
To be changemakers
…for our coming young
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 15, 2019

HOW MUCH I LOVED YOU

I stabbed my fears
…and murdered my weaknesses
I suffocated my ambitions
…and poisoned my dreams
…clutching care like fresh eggs
…all to hold your life
That is how much I loved you

II
I climbed arrogance
…with the sword of insistence
I swam in pity
…with hands of determination
I flew in abnormalities
…on rumours of witchcraft
I trained like a soldier
…and buried all tiredness
Just to keep your life
That is how much I loved you!

III
When I thought of the culture
…which called many a vulture
…for your living structure
…because of your ill stature
I smoked weed of defiance
…killing all wicked thoughts around you
…with guns of law
…and emotions of common sense
That is how much I loved you

IV
I never thought
…for a brief day
That you’d be lost
…and I’d stay
I never envisioned
…for a brief second
That you’d be gone
…and I’d be here
I am now like a can
…with a fountain drained of tears
…in bright bright clothes
I’m now like a lost lioness
…in a warrior zone
…without claws
…without teeth

V
Time is burying your memories in dusts of forgetfulness
…but a little air of rememberance
…dusts the pain and hurts clean
…with your giggles echoing sorrows
…in caves of loss
You’ll forever remain my cross of loss!
You’ll forever remain my emotions’ boss!
You’ll forever be that boy at the peak of my love
…one I spared no sweat to dig flutters
…at his sight!
For you made me
…and broke me
…and killed me
…and planted me
Only for me to germinate into newness
…your absence living in my roots
…never to part
…never ever to be forgotten
Aduse-Poku Ahwinie!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 14, 2019
In memory of my Kwadjo Opoku (Sept. 5, 2011 – Dec. 10, 2018)

HIGH HUSTLE

Harriet has heaped hits
…from her husband
…into houses of hurts
Her hostile home
…humming hopelessness
…in her haunted hawking heart

II
How hollow is her hugless heart?
How harmed is her hustling head?
Holler Harriet to hail her hobbles
…to let us heckle her horrible husband
…who has hijacked her happiness and is
…howling hysterically like a hurricanic horse

III
Hurts are no heritage
There is hired help
…in here’s honour harvest
…today
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 13, 2019

IF YOU MISS A NEEDED HIT…

She says “shush”
…when her side swerves
…the best’s serve
And claims a marked miss
…after her heart sinks in defeat

II
He hisses a diss
…if his target bounces to another
…in an obvious miss
Eyes see the shudder
…but only an insensitive chameleon
…hits hard a hurt in loss

III
It is a murderous fountain
…of tears
…from soul to spirit and shielded body
…in a cycle of time’s bridal walk
…when you miss a hit
It is a painful spat of insults
…from a doomed hurt place
…like an unfair cane sore in a salty rain
…when you hit a miss

IV
If you hunt a game
…and end with empty hands
…you surely pamper your ego
…with “stinky animal!”
But you know
…and I know
They know
…the burning po po po pos
…gunning your heart
…in echoes of disappointment
…shaming you in a merry go round
…of loss in a mourning cave
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 12, 2019

MIND FARMS

The mind is a fertile land
…in the head of every being
Plant weeds of hurts
…and reap seeds of hatred
…with its shadow of cruelty
…and spirit of harm
Plant loving flowers with caring fragrance
…and harvest nectar of faith
…scent of love
…beauty of tenderness
…colours of trust
…thorns of care
…providing fences for your safety

II
The mind is a most fertile land
Plant seeds of hurts
…and like false yams
…harvest a drum full of hatred
…with roots that never really die out
Plant seeds of love
…and harvest a drum full in return
Birds of circulation peck on each
…buying for you hatred
…or love in others

III
Like a skilled farmer
…looking forward to a bountiful harvest
…which will feed nations
Have the tool of care
…in selecting seeds for planting
…in the farm of all minds
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 11, 2019

GOD FOR TRIAL

You’re a God
…lost in gods
…now living in huge mansions
…looking down on the poor

II
You’re a God
…lost in waters
…turned clouds
…which only fall on roofs of the wealthy

III
You’re a God
…lost in soil
…gifting your fertility to hostile harems of cheats
…shaming the good

IV
You’re a God
…who has lost his songs
…in tongues of the innocent
…leaving the noise of deceit to roam wild

V
You’re a God
…who has lost his sword for the wicked
…and replaced it with a sword
…aiming at the pious
…your wind slapping goodness at your order

VI
You’re a God with blames
…from atrocious lies to sad sad cries
…ha, desecrating duping to unfair deaths

VII
You’re a God whose conscience needs a trial
Your love needing a revival
For your mirrors lie in lies
Framing your monstrosity as mercy
…making your loyals fall from royals
…into robes of servants
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 10, 2019

IF I WANTED

If I wanted your game
I would have more than that
…in less than the sweat of your hunt
If I wanted your game
…the game you so vilely parade
…trying so hard to cover the charade
…with my taunting,
I would never break so much as a sweat
…in fencing me with many
…better in parade
So hide your hideous finger
…wearing your tight finger cuffs

II
I know of your broken bed
…and your feelings’ death
I see the cracks on your mouth
…from the bad conversations gone south
I know the drought in your pocket
…because of the glutton in your socket
I know the fear in your heart
…because of the pressure from your prize
Interesting how great beads
…silently grace noble waists
…as those made by Chinese children in experimentation
…call even the dead
…to witness their walk taking
So be modest in flashing your finger cuffs

III
Like vultures without houses
…beaten by telling rains
Your problems are tattoed in your meanness
So cry out
…for once cry out and free your soul
…from the dark it hides
…pulling walls to shade the bright
…walls which annoy even angels sent to work solo
…on this twisted earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 9, 2019

WHEN YOUR BILLY TURNS SILLY

Your hop
…from down to top
Scratching itches in ditches
…pounding needs of hungry beads
…forcing paths in innocent deserts
Leaving no skirt towns
…trouser cities
…knicker corners
…and even jumpsuit capitals
…unexplored
Is a piling crime which will definitely meet
…its regret cop
…in a troubled future

II
You pick the best gems and flush
…them down ghostly gutters
You get angels and pump them with demonic hurts
…always soiling the pious into a coiling
I hope you know time’s footsteps are without
…remote control?

III
You are like a room full of grains that
…wandering peacocks come to peck
……and leave like wind carried leaves
…even those like Mahama’s Guinea fowls
……who swallowed millions
……and embarked on a one way flight to Burkina
…….have pieces of you
To your thankful thrills

IV
There will come a time
…your horn trap will only stop chaff
You’ll then wish time had a turning-back steering
But that lateness in your future
…is a bond you’re signing now
…with your wasteful chase
…and irresponsible craze
And that future will be when your Billy will turns silly
…even in your own remembering
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 8, 2019

GET THIS STRAIGHT

Goat
…get green grass to graze
…to get grace in your growth
Be no bird bedder
…begging births to bird your goat

II
You’re a goat
…whose wishes and gloat
…won’t grow you wings
You might see no wisdom
…walking in this caution
But be sure not to act like the cat
…which got caught in a bird moment
…and jumped from a tall mountain
…as its company-bird flew
…forgetting it had no wings
…and water was an enemy to its ears
It still hurts remembering how the waiting water swallowed it up
What about the sheep which also jumped in same situation
…and got shredded by fingers of the earth?

III
If there are sane ships in your ears
…let them paddle on to the thinking town of your head
…to deliberate on self care
…and work on the importance of this advice
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 7, 2019

THE CHAMBER DANGER (To our abled politicians)

None gives gold to a poor handler of silver
…just as none gifts a house
…to a poor handler of a hut so treasured
Are we over-blooded
…to have our little red rivers
…sucked from our pride and hope?
Definitely not!
This chamber will pose a danger
…which will call for a rememberance
…only worth anger!

II
We know your ears close
…when your mandate mate
…in a date
…promising high rate
…of your working state

II(b)
But acknowledge the many living in gutters
… Note the many living in ‘lavender’ that dignity shatters
… Know the many whose nights are spent
…in air spaces reserved for mosquitoes
… Don’t close your eyes to the many struggling
…under hot suns and murderous rains
Forget not those unfortunate thumbs
…lighted the fire of the power
…which makes you tower
…ferociously threatening in aim of our cowering

III
The voice of the people must push your choices
…and not a reverse
Servants serve their masters
…even if a nation makes them stars
…in revered skies

III(b)
The voices for elephants
…stand by voices for umbrellas
…with voices of coconuts
…with its significantly struggling others
In a NO you know should glow
So what is this deviance in your swear-in allegiance?

IV
Clear your mess
…or face a curse
We’re not twine you can roll
…around your fingers anytime your comforts
…itch for scratches
Don’t act kokuram
…germinating on noses
…thinking we’re too shy or too timid
…to battle with asaawa
Ears were made together with eyes
…and a working mind
…for the wise to use in productivity
…where caution and dicey issues wake
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 6, 2019

WHEN YOUR TATTERS CHATTER

You’re now new
…selected from few
…enjoying your mew
…as you, others chew
Oh, Today’s-Hot-Cake, change your view
For every dawn comes with its dew

II
If you think I lie
…ask the seamstresses
…about the beautiful clothes they made
…for their classy clients
…a decade past
You’ll know, the best turned rags
…because love took their shine
…their colour
…their beauty
…through their duty

III
Even goats now step on them
…in careless bleats
…as the dumpster awaits their rot
The new and loved today
…also doomed in the tatter cycle
So go on and blah blah
…your needed for another’s hated
…your comfort for another’s troubles
Karma’s hammer is a perfectionist
…so flawless
…in its carpentry time
…it will perfectly nail you on the cross of loss
When your tatters finally chatter
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 6, 2019

IN THE PROSECUTION BOX

I have reached this spot
…where my conscience fills a scrutiny pot
…as my head makes it hot
…in the prosecution box

II
It is all because of you
You who are like air I breathe in
…but can’t hold down
You who are like smoke that tears me up
…but can’t be embraced into reality
You who makes lots of emotional noise
…like a swift mosquito
…that always escapes a caught
It is all because of you
…yes you!

III
Why haven’t you shown up?
…Even as the clock ticks
…in announcing my womb’s closure
…and the end of coupling leisure
Why haven’t you shown up?
…Even as my needs roast into frustration
…and wrinkles haunt for an affliction
Why haven’t you shown up, you?
…Yes, you!

III
Where are you?
Are you hidden beneath my pride’s ride?
…Buried beneath the beasts of my expectations?
…Hidden in the parcel of my paranoia?
…Locked in the coffin of my peer pressure?
…Tied in the bus of my unlooking?
Have you been blocked
…behind the fence of my self defence?
…Locked away in the prison of my fears?
…Or gathering dust in the store room of my immaturity?

IV
Wherever you are
…try breaking through to this dunce
…who feels the whips of your absense
…but still stirs through the pot of nonsense
…on societal fires
…thinking her sense there dwells
Jump down, or hop up
…break out or break in
And arrest her heart
Until your reality dawns
…for she is a lost puppy
…searching for her happy
…in the smelly nappy
…of many foul judgements
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 5, 2019

GOLD BETWEEN MY THIGHS

There is gold between my thighs
…gold I will hold until I’m told of its shine
…by a giggling sun
There is gold between my thighs
…gold I won’t have sold to the cold to mould
…into having me poled in penury
There is gold between my thighs
…gold…

II
I will refine this gold with learning
…lighting the fire of knowledge to turn its colour bold
I will shape this gold with tools of patience
…and hard work
Until I learn to use it
…for the product of my fancy
It could be a chain
…to proudly adorn societal neck
…till all teeth get decked out in pride
It could be a watch
…to confidently tell the world how time walks
It could be a crown
…to be bowed to
…in honour and love
It could be handcuffs
…to arrest all follies in my bright corner
…pathing safety for incoming generations
It could be an armour
…to protect my nation
…from all that may mar its sovereignty
It could be a sword
…to kill off illiteracy
…raising the flag of wisdom in valour
It could be a pen
…to be an accomplished soldier in great books
It could just be a ring
…to begin a smile to birth greatness and happiness
There is gold between my thighs
…gold…

III
I am in no hurry to burn it black
… I am in no haste to waste its shine
I will swerve the bug of curiosity
…until I get to the city of maturity
Working on its shine nights after days through to dawns
Until it is ready
…to dine with the sun
Yes, until it is ready to dine with the sun
…this gold…
…this gold between my thighs
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July, 4, 2019
Inspired by Dr. Mrs. Georgina Oduro’s study titled “Gold Between My Thighs”. Dedicated to all girls around the world. There is a beautiful world out there, just work hard to blend the beauty of womanhood with respect leading to happiness.

BUS PREACHER

I don’t know the trick
…in your bus stage acting
Well, that is what this looks to me

II
I don’t know the import
…of your killer-eardrums-shouting
It is oh so a turn off
…selling headaches to many with hurdleaches

III
I don’t know the style of your hygiene
…your arm’s pit has a unique stench
…which is nose wrenching
Do we need to talk about the mouth
…whose spittle shower many
…who the fear of your God cower
…into shut ups?
Maybe not

IV
Please buy some sense from your knowledge book
Acting suntidua through a disgust
…on “anti-Christs” like me
…surely takes us
…to no roundabout of repentence
We don’t need a voice whip
…in this enclosed space
…where even a whisper echoes in multiplicity
Preaching should be like a soothing balm
…or a tutoring pointer
Not a wɔ-wo-kɔn-akyi-kɔ- tipae-mu

V
And oh, the call for offertory
…do it tactfully
…with less manipulation
We know it will all go to nourish you
…for selling us seen and unseen sicknesses
And “blessing” our noses with your fine perfume
You aim to preach and not to leach Mr. Preacher
…that is what you need to learn
…from your Biblical teacher
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©July 3, 2019

HEARTS FOR YOU

Get into hearts
…if you need to be in most chats
…as all hats
…fall for your congratulatory back pats

II
Do not hire a bulldozing force
…to break into hearts
…they’ll die before one of your big toes feels their lands
Do not use wool of pretence to cover your wolfness
…because of fame cravings
…to get into fences of hearts
No wolf survives a sheep filled fence
…for long
…embarrassment and or death, get them each time
Do not use a hammer of pity
…to break into hearts
…their locks once broken
…never get fixed by the breaker
…they will push you down
…at the slightest wind
Do not use a feeble lather of backbiting and lies
…to climb into people’s hearts
…creaks of truth will always oust you out

III
There are hearts for all
…hearts for wolves
…hearts for cats
…hearts for dogs
…hearts for frogs
…hearts for fishes
…hearts for lions
…hearts for ants
…hearts for snakes
…hearts for worms
…hearts for lizards
…hearts for goats
…hearts for sheep
…hearts for pigs
…hearts for eagles
…hearts for fowls
…hearts for vultures
…hearts for even cows and elephants
All you need to be is you
…at your best
…to open the hearts meant for you
…and move into them without breaking a sweat

IV
The best kind of heart ownership
…is that one where you get to wear yourself
…no matter your jurisdiction
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 2, 2019

BE RADICAL

Let
…let white supremacists sleep white
…wake black
…with their white winnership in mind
And let their mirrors tell them
…tell them about the change

II
Let
…let black stooges sleep with their black begging-pillows
And wake white
…with their marked hunt in mind
…only to be told by their mirrors
…of the change
…at the brink of stepping out

III
Let
…let these two meet
Each seeing what they treasure on another
…and what they fear in their announcing minds

IV
And let them view them
…let them feel their own heartbeats
…let them beg themselves to settle
Let them cry out loud to sorries
Let them tear up for each other on each other
So this label coloring will end
…end for real living to begin
…in co-habitation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 1, 2019

GOOD MEN

Did I come to the market late?
I must have
…considering the rotten goods
…waiting for selection
…or buy
Hurtful

II
What will rotten vegetables and foodstuffs fetch?
…Stale taste?
…Stomach ache?
…Running stomach?
…Food poisoning?
Yet see them scattered in near filth
…on my disappointing market

III
What will a polluted goat fetch
…in a long term petting?
Illnesses?
…Worry?
…Mistrust?
…Heartaches?
…A possible death?
Yet see it parading in annoying pumɛɛs
…caring not about the disgust on my face

IV
What will a rabid dog fetch?
…An unhealable bite?
…A tetanus injection?
…A possible loneliness?
…A living fear?
Yet see it barking without backing off
…seeing the fear boldly written with my countenance

V
What will a sneaky snake fetch me?
…A lonesomeness?
…A fearful and poisonous bite?
…An annoying hissing?
…A hide and seek in time wasting?
Yet it hisses through the horror
…written in my eyes

VI
Like normal goods a market brackets
…they seem to be all that are left
…for a pick
Some getting in the way
…and staining clothes
…ruining footwear with their stinking droppings
Where did all of them go?
…The hybrid ones
…with freshness
…unflawed colourfulness
…healthness
…normal fragrances
…promising delicacies
…with many a touch of surprises?
It sure is hard
…to shop in a near evening
Truly, almost all good goods never wait till sundown!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 30, 2019

BRUSH PUSH

I saw you bare your fangs
…and try to hang
…when your friend’s success bang rang
Why?
Hush your rush and brush your push

II
Your current location
…is someone’s hopeful destination
Your hopeful destination
…is someone’s takeoff
These are facts fate feeds
…beyond understanding
So hush your rush and brush your push

III
Many dangers walk the land
Many dangers swim the sea
Many dangers fly the sky
There is nothing like heaven in a climb
So hush your rush and brush your push

IV
Needless competition is a bane in life
Your date can rate your state
…only if fate allows
Like ahenfo kyinyɛ
…no matter how vast they cover
…some surely will be behind others
…in sizes
So hush your rush and brush your push
Showering with contentment
…and soap of discipline
…at every taken step
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 29, 2019

CROWNS AND CLOWNS

Now that there are adulterations of clowns
…in the prestigious group of crowns
This word needs to get to towns
So, in knowing differences, ups won’t turn downs

II
If they use no power
…to shower
…and get confidences to cower
If they use no prestige as plugs
…to harvest unwilling hugs
If they use no fame
…to tame
…and heartlessly try to shame
If they use no filthy forces
…to act like cruel bosses
Then they are real crowns and not cloned clowns

III
It is laughable
How real regals are affable
As counterfeited ones act wolves
…hoping all else turn sheep
…or shy doves
…to feed their hunger to sleep
It is sickening
…that mere weak stones act prized in sale
…when real diamonds silently sail
…on humility’s hail
It is hard to watch vultures wear crowns
…in the gowns of rotten clowns
When eagles soar in to-die-for personalities
…even among fowls
It is sad
…when the world slaps
…with an anti-climax
…at the beginning of its classy story
Where many eyes seek
…crowns
…and painfully find them hidden
…under many clowns

IV
Discernment is a necessary tool
…in spotting fools
…posing to buy your trust
…to turn you into a bull
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 28, 2019

A REAL GREAT SON OF THE LAND

Many suns rise and many suns fall
Many suns get buried under thick clouds till their sad sad end
Many moons rise and many moons fall
Still many moons never see the earth in bright ray light
Prof. George Oduro is sun-
A sun which shone from his dawn
…and still stands on his sky high feet

II
There is a beautiful thing about sincere souls
…who follow rightly in life’s process paths
…in a determined climb
There is a blessed light which illuminates
…shining calm and inspiration
…on lucky encounterers
There is a praying fan
…which buys great air
…for the genuine worker at heart
There is this smile
…which plants itself on countenances of admiring watchers
…of pious hearts
Prof. George Oduro is a sincere soul
…with a blessed light
…and a praying fan
…planting smiles on faces of admiring watchers!

III
Why won’t good rains fall on a promising plant?
Why won’t even weak ladders act strong at the top
…for a graceful pair of legs?
Why won’t fearful and angry seas act calm
…for a blameless boat?
Who dares use his mere monstrous hands
…to cover the shine of the righteous?
Prof. George Oduro is a promising plant
…with graceful legs
…on a blameless boat
…with a righteous spirit!

IV
No wonder his family farm grows strong
…as his seeds soar in brainy path seeking!
No wonder his affable being glows right
…even on a gloomy day in my struggling say
No wonder his loving half is a lotus
…disinfecting all ails
…in a beauteous nearness
Prof. George Oduro is a firm rock!

V
You will grow in strength
…to the right length!
You will live to laugh
…climbing a happy book graph!
You will leave a legacy
…like a perfectly rounded immortal galaxy!
Because life has eyes watching your flawlessness-
…as you host nothing begging for a hide
Continue to be
…who you’ve always been-
As fulfillment rains in your noble heart
It is humbling breathing you in
…in this unsettling sphere
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 26, 2019 in celebration of a living legend in education: Prof. George Kwaku Toku Oduro

A CITIZEN OF IMPOSSIBILITY

See
… I was branded a seed destroyed
Because I clung onto the fearful bus
…of impossibilities
Look at me through the eyes of the wise
…who played my crazy card
…as I live within the biggest nation of impossibilities

II
I was constantly threatened by failure
…sometimes losing to its punches
…sometimes winning through its flares
…sometimes dodging through cracks of determination
Until I reached the shores of dawn
…of Impossibilities

III
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…my light shining through the beauty of its shine
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…my visa, a praying need to many
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…shutting mouths who exchanged their teeth
…with ridicule
…to throw me off the will of moving on
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…my building, a shining star
…guiding many a studious
…to get tickets in flight
…in my join

IV
So take a pain to buy a gain
Carry a shame to be in the high game
…of great names
As an axe rests when the chimney fulls
…be a bull raving through fools
…to hammer enlightenment
…on heads of wet blankets
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 26, 2019

ONE WORLD

There are
…Souths
…Easts
…Wests
In all Norths

II
There are
…Norths
…Easts
..Wests
In all Souths

III
There are
…Norths
…Souths
…Wests
In all Easts

IV
There are
…Norths
…Souths
…Easts
In all Wests

V
Even a room owned by one
…has its North, South, East and West
So why the pointers of division
…marring our visions?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 25, 2019