Days have travelled to a weary feet

And now pulls its shocking seat

Of time with all its surprises

Of change so strange in range


The cross’ significance sit in revered history

Of the old and few committed

But serve as archaic artifact for many

Whose pleasures outweigh biblical interest


Drunkenness in coital worship

Replace prayers in thankful worship

Shaking the grounds of celebrations in old accoutrements

Of soul harvesting as the young dance to tunes of their hearts


The cross is now turning in loss

The boss of meditation now gross

On relegation

Oh how humid the winds of change!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia @ April 1, 2018


When Christ was born
Riches were myrrh,  incense and gold
Kings and farmers owned them most
Poverty was hunger
With no discrimination for food
Times have traveled
Elevating riches to much of infinity
Upgrading poverty to little from none
Let the scribes note

When Christ was born
None sought gifts but him
Fists owned the sole rights to boxing
Days had no hand in their affairs
Now boxing shares space with day
Placed in a birthday celebrated in the stables
Presided by materialism
Cheered on by greed
Little Christos hunt for a master who needs not
Times have really traveled

When Christ was born
I am sure hymns ruled the heavens
And not the earth
But solemnity has been booted by papping
Those who walk in opposite paths to christ
Celebrating more in clubs than churches
Claiming belongingness and shouting in daylight at Satans
Times have traveled

Paths turned roads drink from glasses of souls in accidents
Thieves so skilled bless their fingers
In the midst of eyes so visionless
I know time has traveled
Turning straw into needed stars
Killing Herold in his own reign
And replacing him with deceit
What upgraded definitions!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Dec. 18, 2016


There is no baby born with a mark of religion
There is no baby born in religious colours
Man made religion
So sought and still seeks routes to God
Many paths can lead to a farm
Where they meet, there is no ownership
Why do we seek superiority in the face of tolerance?

What will go wrong if a Christian acknowledges the existence of Islam and vice versa?
What will go wrong if Muslims left
Blasphemy for Allah to battle
Working to help him by explaining and teaching the directions in the Qur’an?
What will happen if the idol worshipper is given his due of respect
As he bows to nature which feeds, nurtures and shelters all?

We need the obedience of donkeys to serve our hearts
And need the hard work of ants to propagate our beliefs
We need the ears of elephants
To listen and discern
We need the togetherness of bees to protect our lives like they do their honey
Making smoke to weaken our bond
Forcing us to fall prey to our enemies
Is just becoming Frankenstein Monsters
Who but the spider
Fixes its web torn into by intruders?
Wise words marry good ears
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Nov. 26, 2016



After knowing that Christ will be born
What are your preparations
You who have turned
And still see baby Jesus as your saviour?

Like the three Shepherds
Do you seek gifts
For the young chap
Or for your mere frame for fame
Or to impress mirrors of lustful eyes?
Even you have ample time of knowledge
Than those shepherds caught out of cottages
You knew of His conception
Long before old adages
From your savage sages
Those you always use the name of the would be baby
To arrest like robbers
To bind like aggressive mad men
To cast like cursed gold nuggets
Into seas of evilness

Now what goes into His baby shower?
Do you buy expensive pomades
Or expensive clothes?
Expensive perfumes
Or expensive cradles?
Build expensive houses
Or expensive cars
For the baby to be
Who will pay our fees?
Isn’t it funny that stable born
Gets all the attention in name
While all gifts are made into selfish clothes
For ourselves?
A touch of make-up
A smoothie pomade
The scent of heaven
A foreign fabric
Classy cars
And classy partners
To show to the baby in the manger of poverty

What about His birth
Makes him a party animal?
What about His life
Is worth the drunken stupor?
What about His gain
Makes us insane?
The seas will gobble many down their throats
The roads will chew many like ‘nkyewie’
Vehicles will grind many like pepper
Materialism will handcuff many like thieves
Jealousy will fry many like ‘kaklo’
Into prisons of shame to tame
To reflect and generate blame
But another year will be same
And all for the baby born and kept
In the bedroom of many a sheep
Naming ceremony turned party for death to hunt
Mourning celebrations
What Irony!!!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015
(‘Nkyewie’ is an Akan word for roasted maize, ‘kaklo’ is an Akan word for fried mashed ripe plantain. Photo Credit, google pics)



Just as Christ came

Easing His way through hearts

Summoning hurdles to lie

Unleashing anger on sins, I would

Summon my conscience to light


If I were a Christian,

Saving me and all would be a priority


Tearing beings

Hesitating in helping

Ecstatically jubilating than saving, will be nil


Soaring on righteousness

Opening roads to hopefulness,

No back biting the saints, will be my badge


Of course I would thank God

For every breath I last like the loyal cockerel


Given the chance for billions,

On a platter of ease,

Dungeons of lions will not make me kowtow to sin


If I were a Christian

I’ll know God is the ultimate

And know the similarities between

Christians and Muslims

And call on Jesus and Mohammed to sit

To strike out their differences

To clear up their misunderstandings

Leading to misinterpretations

So the world will be a better place for all

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014