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

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

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

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

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

WATERLESS SEA (Crazy Stanzas)

I need a very tall ladder
To climb into minds holding the reigns of our national horses
I need a very good lift
To the core wiring of these great minds sift!

II
Which fishes, drink the waters of their own sea
Sell them for cheap to greedy drought
Kill the clouds of their sky to weed out rain
And are still happy in breeding in there?

III
The now is their got, they think
The future is their naught
Their younger ones should sink
They think not of the sun yearning to dry them
Care not about the pans yearning to fry them
They see no mud hoping to cake them
They forget their enemies above
And their enemies beneath
Enemies beside and enemies in swoop
All they care about is the now
Even as their sweats burn the sands of their dock
Creating fertile grounds for ships of fish nets
To be better grounded
Am I in this horrid sea?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Nov. 23, 2018

WHEN THE LAW CHASES

The boldness of darkness in deceptive acquisition
Is a mystic and hypocritical existence
Which abhors the steps of light
Even in far distances
It’s a little wonder legs turn three
Moving without support for the third
Chests grow mounds
Hoping with no straps for decorum
When the law chases

II
Wigs are rigs in these digs
For they easily come off
Leaving mess on exhibition
And baldness to the knocks of cold
And the burning heat of the sun
It’s a little wonder stooging knees
Turn laughing teeth
When traps of the law fetches stool games
Ah! Norms Are Sticks
When the law chases!

III
You know there’d be fans
There’d be tongues calling for bans
They’d be minds mum with fear
And hearts delighted to share
Still there’d be fence sitters
Few sympathisers
Oh let’s see the bright side
No fecal matter sits in caught bellies
When the law chases

IV
Shame for honour
Rags for respect
Hate for love
Kin for stranger
Friends turn enemies
Crushes start crashing
When the law chases

V
Ghosts of the past can turn clothes into ropes
Shadows into canes
An extended hand into a bat
A tree into a cudgel
Little sounds into guns
Reaching for guilty hearts
When the law chases
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 23/05/2018

​CROWERS AND PECKERS


When the crowers of today turn peckers at dawn

Feasting on feeds of hens and chicks

While time walks without turning back

Their future in saucepans of history will be painful

As the only spices on their bodies would be pepper of frustration

Ginger of hurts

Salt of under development

Tears of penury

And cubes of curses

Let earful cocks clean their ears

As they stand on pedestals of high repute

In their youthful dawn

And heed to the call of change

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Dec. 22, 2017.

UNCANNY ASSOCIATIONS (CRAZY STANZAS)


Legs take crowns to ordered places

To taste the grounds of its worship

Hearts engine dreams

To feel the pulse of success in the end

Tongues channel foods to intestines

To sip a taste from every bite

All the above with pinches of truth

Our elders did us in with some wise sayings

You lick the crown of your teeth no matter how bitter it tastes

Better a good thing at home

So many minds, like rehearsed fingers

Play the tune of mischief

The anthills and griffonia simplicifolia have no need to thank each other

A favourite proverb carved by sages in their peak of wisdom

But the anthills gain the same worth as the griffonia simplicifolias

Now modernity seems to present replays of uncanny comparisons

To anthills and their griffonia simplicifolias


II

Instead of maintaining moisture to aid their anthills 

In times of drought

They, like moths on living bodies, search for weak spots

To induce death

So they can eat once and for all

Forgetting they are the very essence of their living

Oh, maybe they know near bodies in wait for exploitation

Which winds weaved us into this wickedness?


III

What are lions who chew their tails in their bid to quench hunger?

What are beings who chew their fingers in their craving for meat?

What are eagles who cut their wings

In their bid to fly higher?

Amazing the brains defecated out of the bowels of greed!

When will wise wits win the war of wicked winning whores?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 30, 2017

​THIS FEAST OF THE STRONG

On this dining table
Sits gluttonous greed

Whose hunger, all the food, in quench, unable

Connivance knows but stooges for crumbs

Forgetting the coming with roaring bellies

Whose eyes may never see the feast

Forgetting the frail

Whose bodies can go nowhere near the monstrous Greed

Forgetting the children whose growth

Depend on the nutrients of the present


II

Looting has now become tickets for everything

Yet pennies of paupers are forced from the hearts of their pockets

Into the stomachs of pockets of greed

Oh ye sleeping gods of the land!

Please wake!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 15th October, 2017

​TOOTHLESS DOGISM


Our breaths have been marked

Marked for the roars of freshness

And the silence thereafter like that of toothless dogs


II

Our sad songs continue on world stages

But why do sympathies sit uninterested

Sipping their “serves you right” wines

Even as our hurtful passions sync with their instruments?


III

Could it be the need for quarter buttocks

To get the glue of octagonism

On the famed seat of governance

Through playing saints into stooging to please us into teasing in deceasing?


IV

Or our baby milk lacks the willpower to stand for the right

Erasing pain in forgetful insanities

Making troubles into strong footballs

Knocking us down and bouncing back in hitting

When we stand back on our feet in repetitive annoyance?


V

Our elders lied not

When they said forgetting pain begs for more

Yet we defy their stance like disobedient children

Pouring lives through unfair death colanders

Which wicked gods follow us in white man’s sneakers?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©October 8, 2017

​COMMON SENSE

The beginning of bad thoughts

Marked the end of harmless nakedness

That I know

II

The beginning of birth

Birthed the beginning of death

That too I know


III

The beginning of want

Dug the endlessness of need

Well, took a while to harvest that on the tree of thought


IV

Greed is sometimes a seed of need

Which felt thirst in the belly of hearts

And was boxed by hunger into anger in the loam of minds


V

What has turned puzzle

Wriggling its weight on my mind

Is what turns them snakes to bite themselves

Chewing some and hiding much under their land

Do they need the dawn of death

To see the handiwork of disaster

In their signature on themselves?

Chai! Common sense seems to hang on higher skies

To hearts in hurry for much

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) September 13, 2017

​CRY THE NATION

Many sicknesses walk 

On the body of my motherland

Causing it to walk naked on the global market

Every pore battles an unhealing sore

Sore of greed concreting each founding ailment

Why doctors are like its grim reapers

I am still sitting under the sky of reasoning

Trying to catch a raindrop of understanding

Which obviously pours into my mind with misunderstanding


II

Each throat can admit a morsel at a time

Each body is like its shadow in daylight

Waiting to disappear with the night of death

So why do we fume corruption

Knowing its chaotic eruptions?

Why do we seek to destroy a bridge which carries our weight

On the mouth of the dungeons of death?

Why do we seek to strip our own into bonkerhood

On a stage where civility sides ability?

Why do we sew clothes of shame

Which calls for pests to have us tamed

Right after seeing us maimed?


III

Jump from your fences

You wearing shorts of indifference

Throw down your differences

You with busy mouths propaganding nonsensicals,

Deafening ears 

Blinding eyes to the pain on the body of our nation

Wash your wicks of enlightenment

You heads with inks of knowledge

And lead like captains on battle grounds

Won’t you snap out of your power drunkenness

You possessed with fake thoughts of immortality

Emboldened by wealth


IV

We are ants creating foots

Too heavy to carry

We are now Frankenstein monsters

Building our murderers with glee

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 28, 2017

​KƐTƐASESHƐ NE PRƆYƐ

The mind is a scary part

A part which houses and nurses all it is given

Be it in light of good

Or in doom of bad

No ripe orange on a flat ground

Falls far from its tree

And a rotten palm nut amidst the many

Carves vampire teeth on the others 

Even after battling fires 

To bite tongues in disgust

Hence our bitter taste on the tongue of life


II

Kojo Dzapkpasu’s little coins taken from the purses of parents

When eyes are lost in jurisdiction,

His parents awareness perceived as a little cotton in the wind

Storing laughter in silence

Is a seed being watered by days

Packing like a gift of bomb to detonate

Into the future 

Splashing shame and horrors

Even quenching the flames of happiness and love

It is a seed that shoots a plant

A plant or a little branch that becomes a tree


III

So the government is like a desert without an owner

And I am a farm hand without a supervisor

With no eye in sight

Why will I work like a bull?

Ha! A goat claims to be destroying the paint of many houses

Until its skin pops bald out of its encounters


IV

Ama Achaa has a whole hole flowing with waters of spring

I am a perfect fish thirsty for a swim

Ama needs me as a ladder to climb a hurdle

Without a swim, I won’t ever bend

Ha! Continue cheating the crab

Your rear is opened to the eyes of God no matter how  thick your clothes!


V

I am a trained protector

One with skills of lions and lionesses

With the authority of the state

I am the order of the road

The hands for a catch

The eyes for the safety of my land

Walk into my way without the stench of a token

And I will see you broken

Power takes what it needs

Even many from less authoritative fields get their due

Why shouldn’t I?

Ha! The law is a whipping rope with two ends

Pray for no day your victim will hold the other end!


VI

Amazing how big fishes sail through the net of the law

As small fishes, like mythically huge souls, get stuck in the same

Robbers kill few at once

But leading beings fondling public coffers

Kill millions in every turn

Yieee! Why do you aim for your intestines

And blame it on hunger?


VII

We are our own Satans

Building the worst hell in our living quarters!

We are our own roses 

Tilting our thorns into our skins!

We are our own flies 

Eating deep into our own sores!

We are the poisonous rain seeping through our perfect pores!

From mouths shut like doors of whores

Close to their pastors’ stores

To eyes whose visions are bought in wiping

From ears shut like a bankers safe

To skins which hide bruises to promote rot

We are all the tsunamis destroying our progress!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 8, 2017

​STRAY HANDS

I know the throat can nag

And force a king to lie on a rag

When its demands for water through its pipe is not met


II

I know the stomach can thunder

When its bond with food is put asunder

Giving in to any bet


III

I know eyes close not

When their vessels are tied in a weakened knot

As the body, like a drug addict, frets


IV

I know every pore feels its sweat

And every soul in a body is a set

That is why hands take all they can get


V

But this is not it

We are children of warriors who oneness fitted

And through the axe of togetherness slit 

The throat of oppression

To give us this free mansion of supremacy

We are a set known in the Ubuntu

So why do some hands stray

To dupe themselves of the crown of development

Befitting our precious heads?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 2, 2017

​HUMAN POWER

We are what we need to be
When needs to be, be

We are who we need to see

When needs to see, see

We are our lions and lionesses

Hunting this jungle in shadows definitive of us

We are soldier ants 

Making our own frames walking anthills

Creating holes which send invitations

To passers by, wanderers and pursuers
II

We are why we run

When needs to run, run

We are where we plan

When needs to plan, plan

We are chickens on the ground

But peacocks on mounds made by ground-hands

And we order, in roaring, porcupines

To fire arrows into ladders

Which aided our climb

Why?
III

We are those openers

When needs to open, open

We are the leading voices

When needs to listen, listen

We are antelopes in our beautiful haven

But struggle to be rats in far caves

Smoked and chased 

Caught and skinned

In our own audience divided in agreement

Then again why?
IV

We are the reason we reason

When reasons to reason, reason

We are the sky we need

When needs for clouds and suns dawn

We are our own thunders

Shaking our very foundations in alien call

Pushing over our buckets to wheel mud into our waters

How can the nation chew fingers whose veins connect to its heart?
V

Ever seen the beautiful clamouring for monstrous masks?

Ever seen a well wishing to be a sewage tank?

Ever seen the virgin in youth

Hoping to be a raped dumped on the desert of old?

Maybe we are sleepy angels in horrid fantasies

In a heaven penned to trap

Hoping for the author to lead

Not caring where the lead ends

We listen to the birds chirp

The dogs bark

The cats meow

The crickets cry

But we hear not the crows of cocks

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) July 28, 2017

​STRENGTH FOR THRONES

Let the ancestors listen!
Listen from their working places

Let them listen!

Listen in their working gears

Is this the vision for which they drained their precious body rivers?

Is this the picture they offered their bodies

To the human abattoirs like cheap goods for?

Is it?

Is it!
II

Ants are now known as crawling insects

Their needed minds being grinded by wrestling feet 

Of elephants and cows

Hyenas and baboons

Tigers and lions

Porcupines and pythons

And oh, existing ant holes are being blocked by lost and fleeing sands

Is this the future you envisaged?
III

Did you visualize your “mmeri ntamah” turn ovened suits calling for carcass freezers?

Freezers which drain the daylight out of night?

Did you envisage your ahenema turn talking walkers?

Your tongues cut and replaced by that of some contaminated dead?

Did you per chance wish for a tired table for your enemies

As your children wait for the crumbs of their sweat?
IV

You must speak from beyond Nananom!

Did you pray for prayers?

Prayers which would turn thunders and lightening into our stooges?

Stooges which would travel miles to provide all that we call?

Did you?

Did you?
V

What at all did your blood preach?

A battle for thrones like dogs who have run amok

Where the winner takes all?

Can’t you see your Frankenstein Monsters go beserk?

Can’t you see?

Do you really not see?
V

Bow your shamed heads from beyond

For like losers on the lose, you live unseen

Your crowns of nobility have long fallen

Your regal rings are now handcuffs

And your fiery spirits live as haunting ghosts

Need I say more?

No, not befitting of your respect customs

So I lock the gates housing this tongue

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) July 19, 2017

​IRONY OF ODDS

A dove has been bathed into a vulture
A sheep transformed into a goat

A wall gecko now lives like a cobra

Which waters clean the clean into dirt?
II

A lion is now a cat

A tiger living as the dog of a crab

That eagle is now a “borla” bird

Which airs travel in exhaling

To change destinies like diapers of a running infant?
III

Odomankoma’s eyes must be floating  on seas with pinching salt

Boiling by the fury of rage

As spirits with divergent hearts fight

On the battlefield for souls on soles

As he watches his flawless creations

Turn monsters in mythical mirrors

Yet stay like untainted dolls in his daylight vision
IV

Amazing how innocent baby teeth

Turned carnivorous, love the taste of flesh

Flesh which houses their very selves

Hadn’t heard demonic laughter harvesting standing ovations

Until the veil of innocence tasted claws of enlightened machetes

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) July 19, 2017

IN THIS SEA

It is funny
Very funny how fishes muddy
Toy with
Waste
The water in which they live

II
They create their storms
And shake their grounds
They reject the right rains
And dig for tsunamis
They heat their waters
But stay therein
Is there a thought to point that out?

III
Oh big fishes!
Digging all sea dishes!
Drying up your waters!
Can’t you please mould a thought
For your little ones?
Your little ones who chase and are chased
Knowing nothing but growth in splatter and play
Knowing no difference between bearable and unbearable waters
Sea sands fan you now
But are waiting to choke you and or your descendants into death
When the last drop of water evaporates
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Jan. 8, 2017

AS APOCALYPSES WORK

You saintly quacking parrot

Sit on your legs

On the biggest tree of the land

And look at all like a slug on a couch

Watching a tragedy on a giant screen

And quack like tongues of a quack pastor

Who even knows not what he says

Remember there is a sea which feeds your tree

So when the foul air calls for a tsunami

All things will suffer and so will your tree

II

You see the dirty linens wash their owners

With soaps of deceit and darkness of clearance

You know the canoes being ridden by seas

Upon the instruction of abled hands

You know the bullets

Gunning all

Hues of

Anointed owners,

Never the

Apocalypses

So sit on your legs and quack like a duck

III

Won’t we all feel the heat of the sea?

Won’t we all feel the anger of the waves?

Won’t we all see the spears of the tsunamis?

Quack and quack and quack and quack

But know your saliva will crave the waters

Even before the seas swallow us whole

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Image by Google pics

DECEPTION (SUCCESSIVE HAIKU)

Huge sharp blinding stones

Fall on what once was gold coast

Shielded by mandate

II

Swords in umbrellas

They cover, hit to quiver

Fail to deliver

III

Animals run wild

But will forget when swords hide

Faking protection

IV

A little water

Few gifts so swift calms all rifts

Then mandate again

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Photo Credit: www.npr.org

A TURKEY FROM TURKEY

I know a turkey from Turkey
Who thinks Thanksgiving and Christmas are red and dark
Their final destinations are so murky
That they find no way to their presence mark

II
The turkey complained about usurpers in Turkey
And how they colonised them in charm
And threw their beauties in the murky
To spice their grinders of perpetual harm

III
“Turkeys in Turkey
Are planning soupies murky
For all non-flyers who wish them harm”
Says Turkish turkey
Now let all Turks relax
The turkey from Turkey is all corrupt
And their murky soups are doses of enlightenment
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

CRITICAL PRAYER

Ye gods of the land
Open your hidden eyes
And take these feathers
Almost stripped of its skin
To distill your ears
To hear the prayers I pour
Through the ‘nsafufuo’ my meek calabash has to give
And help the land respond ‘ewie!’
To all the points of prayer

II
Let the evil fishes in all seas
Drown like helpless cats
To rid their realm off the pain of misfortunes
So the mirrors of good
Can be clear to show reflections of untainted hands

III
Let the vampire birds in all skies
Suffocate by higher airs
To rid the big mirrors
Of the fog that blinds
So eyes can see clearly
Faces of the workable
Confiscate their wings
To strengthen the weak but capable

IV
Let the heat in the skin of the earth
Cook the pests which hide within
So your names will be as pure
As the morning dew
So your parades can be few
And on pleasurable cue
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

UNCHANGING

The airs of the piper
Have no authority
They flow at the command of the tune payer
Giving power when power is needed
Giving sadness when requested
Going at the pace of dancing feet
Who show their gladness by moving
I know all that
But the piper can turn tune payer
After working like a donkey for a while
Like leaves swaying heads
At the passing of the wind
Mouths shout their pain
Like trains needing oiling
When disasters strike
Only to laugh when suns set
It is sad when suns record such poor attitudes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

SOUNDS OF TODAY

“Bue! Ouch! Agyeiiii!
Meku la! Aaaaah!”
Mourning
Sounds of today
Like a deathzone
Everything reeks mourning
From shooting of God’s men in church
To thunders lighting the fires of flood to “ghosten” beings
Sounds of today!

II
“Ei! Eh? Wosh!
Appalling!”
Suprising sounds of today
Hidden answers find themselves naked on the market
Prostituting and luring innocent minds currupted by cheap success
Fermented sounds of today!

III
“Saaah? Really?
Awurade! Krono nie!”
Shocking sounds of today
Securities of state properties are the thieves they seek
Making salaries of their instituted security bonus stealings
Crippling the poor contributor
Like polio on high voltage
Silly sounds of today!

IV
“Hri baba baba baba
Baba baba baba
Blood of…”
Selling God like kola in papers and coins
Preachers turned rich while the preached hung and thirst
Sacrifices to God praying in trusted stomachs
Sacrifices of God melted, polished to brighten on His senders
Ha ha ha ha!
Sounds of today

V
Sounds of today are like torture tools
They pull our nails like hardened prisoners
They burn bodies like heated irons
They drown our happiness like vast seas
Even sweetened bitterness has drowned its sweet
Sounds of today!
Sounds of today!
Sounds of today!
Hmmm
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

COOKED FROM THE AFRICAN POT?

Asaase Abibire!
Sit on a listening stool
And answer your queries
Maybe, just maybe, you might convince your host

II
Why do you boil egos of your masculines
Until they attain unbreakable statuses in negation?
Why do you create those
Who destroy their earth routes
And kill spirits who aim to make their names immortal?
Of what use is cowried ego which have sluggish hands?
Of what use is the wrong who raise others to love being wronged to your kingdom?
Let’s move to other realms

III
Now answer this too
And don’t keep mute like you always do
Why do you keep hearts of murderers
Who are sluggish and only love to fry, boil and pour blood of their own?
Why do you keep them?
Can’t you swallow them whole and leave this place peaceful?

IV
Why do you allow new ails
Which have voluminous appetites into your territory?
Do you love the horror spectacles you present?
Do you know no shame?
Don’t you get tired receiving blames?
Do you find sympathy and fear for you as game?
And on top of that you keep greedy power hungry rein holders?

IV
You are a disgraced queen
You are a beautiful mannequin
You are a fallen innocentia
You are torture even for pious eyes
You are a nightmare
Just because of a few out of your lot
Learn to shelter your ills
You aren’t the only one with thunderous abominables
Why do you put words in facts
In the mouth of your fans and foes?

V
You keep mute and sit!
Just think of a good way
A good way to solve your troubles
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

AT THE FORECOURT

galleryhip.com
galleryhip.com

As monkeys dress in suits

And pigs dress in cloths

And monkeys eat with cutlery

As pigs feed with fingers

All mouths shut

As tummies receive

Forgetting all standing beefs

 

II

Talks of climbing and sky defecation

Talks of dirt and defecation feeding

Talks of the best as compared to the rest

All rest, well, well, well, tummies rule

Brains sleep

Hands work as mouths are senders

Basking in taste

For the machination of stomach

Who sieves, distributes and shed

Funny, the human race

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015

 

A WALK WITH MAHAMA

(Today is World Poetry Day. Let me start my day with a walk with my president. I love and respect the headship because he represents Ghana, my motherland. When things go wrong, writers have the pens. And this is how I choose to use mine today)

sankofaonline.com
sankofaonline.com

Nothing is by mistake

I would’ve said by mistake,

You were chosen to follow,

Then by death’s mistake,

You were chosen, after being pursued, to lead

A young shoot leading a mountain

A star leading suns and moons

A small star ruling the sky

Interesting and all eyes were keen in watching

Many thought your small light

Will make it easier for you to zoom in on the sky

And I can’t say you have not tried!

But then you took on corruptive fireflies

Fireflies hungry to feed

And many see you as one yourself

As for me, I have no voice in the matter

Whether you gathered and others stole

Or gathered and stole with them,

I am no witch to know, so I won’t judge

But all blame heads if legs and hands rebel

Stars can’t shine brighter than the moon

Or sun, that I understand,

But must that be taken literal?

If promises developed long running legs

From your abled-mouth,

Must “dum” accompany your eyes to see?

Upon our walk, we stumbled on a SADA stealing

Upon our walk, we stumbled on a GYEEDA stealing

Upon our walk, many mouths have been shut by failure;

With dum, how many enterprises can stand on weak kwashiorkor legs?

That rumours walk in whispers

Of your familiar richness

Is one of the scary hushnesses

A walk with you has seen many striking deaf and dumps

If even they heard or saw enough to strike

Then which good annals will have your name in ink?

That will be bad business!

But even you claim you are dead and a goat!

Show some respect Amoafowaa!

No one voted for a dead goat

Could it be we struggled for a goat

And killed it before a great occasion?

If this walk will yield any results

It will start from you and end with you

How about getting more passionate Gomashies

How about nailing all the helpless Woyos?

How about cleaning the filth in your cabinet?

This neatness is not literal

Let it start from above

And we below will follow your sync

Ghana is greater than all our hurdles

But a floating ship, no matter how strong,

Will sink on any river or sea

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

SHUNNED

yay-or-nay

Yay to the hay

Nay to explain

When ministers crawl

Under Satan’s bench,

Yay to the hay

Nay to explain

II

When accountants bolt

As accountings hide

Yay to the hay

Nay to explain

We do the do

But sit to be fooled

III

It’s yay to the hay

Nay to explain

Who made the hails

And turned to naught?

We, we, we and us

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

CORRUPTION’S FINGER AT LAW

unnamed

When rats

Feel threatened

They think of all tricks

But changing their scents

“Akura Woyo w’adi atwi”

II

When threatened dogs

Bark loudest

They fail to think

That sounds attract

“Agya nsem atukwan”

III

When cats

See, blink and quieten

They fail to think

That fire can flood

“Agya! Yani atan”

IV

A finger of corruption

Points at the law

Face of the law cries foul

Who can be trusted?

A good thing some villages hear none

“Agya nsem wↄ world”

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

THE NEVER DYING PLANTAIN PLANT

images

There is a never dying plantain plant

Which is rooted in the centre

Of a coast initially golden

When it is cut down, other shoots emerge

When it is uprooted, new shoots succeed

Funny, how a plantain drains

And never ceases to create holes of mouthings

Holes of horrid deceits

Holes of disappointments

Holes of pauperhood

Wogesadjement plantains!

Know your time to feed is now

And not the future of feeding soil

So coil from being omnivorous centipedes

Who feed on their own bodies!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

PROTHIEFICS (TANKA)

images

I have thoughts to say;

Lion as chief of the forest

Concatenates to

Loss of smaller animals

In the forest of Hanah

II

I’ve more thoughts to say;

Leopards and hyenas know it

But are afraid to

Stir the nest of fearful bees

Others think their stomachs precious

III

I still have more thoughts

Coterminously, many

Are in cahoots with

The lion for some crumby share

And you’ll think it so unfair

IV

I dare you to step

In their shoes and know your fate

You will dance to tunes

Like fetish in possession

Now, tongues wag like mine, pretense?

V

We’ll all sit and wait

While the lion eats fat, too bad

We won’t live to see

The extinction of our peers

And the chewing of grass by lions

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015

ARCHAIC STAR FOR GHANA (HAIKU)

ghana_flag_a

Hear me blacks in arks

Change the colour of your star

So we can go far

II

You know black for death

You use red for hot danger

These we have, what now?

III

We are on travel

And our star dims like black coal

No wonder we stand

IV

We stand with no walks

Our legs are like pegs on lines

What leads who herein?

V

It is time for change!

Let the black turn to sun bright,

And lead for follow

VI

Dim, it blends with dark

Dim, its whims tear limbs like strings

Original, please!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2015

WHEN YOUR NIGHT FALLS

Darkness

Peacocks of beauty, have it all

Saints in duty, get it all

When your nights fall

Pride will shine to fan you in darkness

II

Members of earthly heaven; spend it all

The paupers’ tears; drink them all

When your nights fall

Sins of corruption will wake to help you fight termites

III

Fans of meat; have it all

The poor in your net; have them all

When your night falls

Your stomachs will show others that you’re meatless

IV

If you are chewing the baboon’s hand

Please have a good look at yours

For there will come a day

When death will be human as you turn baboon

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

CORRUPTER’S PILLOWS

images

In the pillow of the corrupt are;

Tears of orphans,

Pain of unemployment

Harshness of depression

Sins of the unaffectionate

Aggression of the youth

Future babies of robberies

Future hardened prostitutes

Perpetrators of kidnappers

Negligence

Injustices

Bribery

Lateness

Deaths

Amidst others

In that pile, I wonder they leap sleep

To many mornings

Knowing their punishments await

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

CLOTHES OF DARKNESS

darkness-as-me

For those with cover cloth of darkness

Which hides many of your scary weakness

Darkness enclothen

Weaknesses unfolden

I know you feel embolden

II

Sophisticated sweet sweats

May cause you to dance to your own beats

No matter your many a soothing day

After scaring many to decay

Know one night might turn to day

And you’ll dance to your own beats

III

Yes, darkness covers all eyes

Yes, darkness paints all with black dyes

But when light comes out cool

It dissipates like a fool

And knows it is a temporary tool

IV

So please rest in darkness

Knowing it’ll cover your weakness

Only to leave it bare

For all to queerly stare

Asking how you could shamefully dare

I have seen many, don’t say it is rare

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

NO CHRISTMAS FOR GHANA (CRAZY STANZAS)

GHANA PROTESTS

I

Light is a rare visitor

Money is a haunter

Hunger is the landowner

And pain is the comfy seat

Of Ghana, my Ghana

II

A Cedi today,

Ten Cedis tomorrow

A promise today,

A hiding tomorrow

Demonstration in succession

Courts and orders

There’s no Christmas for Ghana

Not for Ghana, my Ghana

III

Delicious foods

Have fled houses

To play on televisions

To flame hunger

Mouths are talking

But who is listening?

“Yentiee obiaa”

Lumba has sealed it

Who thinks of Christmas?

When the stomach rumbles?

No Christmas for Ghana, not for my Ghana

IV

Poor young souls

Think of nice clothes,

Think of sweet candies,

Think of nice meals,

Poor young ones

Hardly do they know

There’s no Christmas for Ghana

Not for Ghana, my Ghana

hungry

V

No Christmas for Ghana

Inflation of passions!

No Christmas for Ghana

Oh mixed reactions!

No Christmas for Ghana

Pockets with no actions!

No Christmas for Ghana

We’ve reached unfair sanctions!

And the real pure Ghana of the Rurals weep

Too bad, they weep for the Ghana few are keeping

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

CROUCHING COWARDS (SYNCHRONICITY)

Mountain lion

 

 

 

 

 

 

I

Sounds bouncing from realms of chaos

Magnified by mouth of the cruel

Shake ground

 

II

Heads powerful to shut them out

Sit panicking in clothes of fear

Just look

 

III

As the jerkings become intense

They fold themselves into cocoon

Of blame

 

IV

Poor weaklings with filled drum bellies,

Poor green leaves with nice fruity dreams

Suffer

 

V

They suffer unjustly always

Their voices sit covered like drums

Sealed tight

 

VI

Who but the hen stirs soil for food?

Who but the chicks tag along hens?

Pity!

 

VII

Oh ye cocks turned chickens today,

Hear this voice and know your place now

Work right!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

 

WILD IMAGINATIONS

images

I

I walked into his senses

Through his lens

And broke all his fences

II

I walked into his fences

Through his many lens

And  damaged all his tenses

III

I walked into his senses

My perfume taking him to heaven

And tossing him painfully to hell

IV

I walked into his senses

Through his digital lens

Driving him mad like a mad cow

V

I walked into his senses

And saw his exasperation, fear

And burning longing

VI

I walked into his senses

And saw his passions erupt

And his thoughts corrupt

VII

I walked into his senses

Not my intention

And through no fault of mine

VIII

I walked into his senses

Although I sought my sustenance

He yearned for pleasures

IX

Yes pleasures!

Wanting to damage me in the most horrible of ways

Making me his toy for a short while

X

But too bad

I saw his senses dangling like rotten wood about to fall

And I just had to duck and watch it break into pieces

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

ARREST YOURSELF

Rule-of-Law

Laws learn to lie

Lie so low to live in loss

Loss when left loose will lessen lives

Lives needed to lead the led

Laws limp when they see love

Laws leap when they see the Lord

Laws lie low when they see truth

Laws, laws, laws, laws, laws

Laws made by men who are lost

Laws made by men who live and  lived

Leave the living

Untie the tied

Stop your greed

And be arrested by yourself

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

THUMB POWERS

6_enndeathfather

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Their thumb powers are unknown to them

Like our forefathers exchanged gold for salt

They exchange their powers for cheap coins, cloths

Bicycles, motorbikes, cars and promises

Which never come to pass

When will they see their thumbs are worth more than little fees?

Grave sufferings, avoidable sufferings reign their world

Yet they never turn into eye openers

To uproot their problems

Psychological colonization

Misplaced priorities

Repitition of dynamic but same mistakes

Are blinding our sorry selves

Have mercy! Whoever hears!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014

WAKE OH GHANA!

Ghana-Flag-Map

Oh Ghana!

Land of my birth

A land with gold and greens

The only land with a black star which shines

To lead the way

One powerful land fought for with blood

Where did we pass?

To get this lost?

Where did we go so wrong?

That we use baskets to fetch water?

We all saw when we travelled to rear guinea fowl

Wanting multiplication but ended with negatives

They all flew to the countries of few stomachs

Who blamed Burkina Faso for enticing them

We all know the many payments without efforts

Are we blind to see our coffers having huge holes

Which have mysterious visiting fingers only in the dark?

All we have now is confusion

Many starve

Many can’t breathe

Many commit suicide

Even health needs great wealth

Where are our eyes?

When did Ghanaians go so blind?

Our drivers may be sleeping

Their mates maybe too bitter to notice

Ghana! Ghana!

Let us all have a voice

That talk is cheap

And demand work

Work to get us to the right path

Before the dessert swallows us

Without the streams hearing our frightened cries.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

A SORE STATE (MONORHYME)

pg-36-google-earth-1

I think of now and before

I know not what is in store

I see not the work of law

I see crimes brought to the fore

And see children refuse their chore

I aim to know its prompt core

Living such life I abhor

For real justice, I swore

But my voice always mops floors

All my reasoning they ignore

And mostly show me the door

Now my heart is really sore

So much I can stand no more

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

REVERSED HELP (TANKA)

hawk-problems

I

The chicks scurry off

Trying to hide from the hawks

Their wings cannot fly

Their weak chirping are not heard

They see the shade of hawk frames

II

Their mothers weep loud

To their fathers who sigh loud

They try to set traps

The specific trap breaks fight

Whose must be the potent one?

III

They fight and break wings

Curse, cry, murder, rage and kill

Until they see right

Dust swells and they cry for help

When they have tools and manpower

IV

Eagles are employed

Their trait of hunting not clear

They seriously work

It still persists, they realise

That the help hired was a reverse

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

AFRICA NEEDS A “SANCTICA”

illustration-of-first-cotton-gin-found-in-harpers-weekly-circa-1869

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Illuminated

She stands in crepuscular

Knowing not her next

 

Would the next be day?

Would it be absolute night?

She stands scared waiting

 

One would be tempted

To think her light would stand out

Blinding grave darkness

 

But no, only she

Sees her light as the others

Grope for their mere path

 

‘A’ is standing tall

‘frica’ is having the fall

And none seems to call

 

Scary weather whips

Scary diseases leads ship

Beyond eye boarders

 

Scary captains ride

Armoured to fight the hot sea

With deserting thoughts

 

What will beauty do?

Africa needs a “sanctica”

A “sanctica” to revive.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

 

 

 

GHANA’S PLIGHT

Dipo-Ceremony-Krobo-Ghana6

In days of old

Ghana was rich in gold

So rich that she needed no gold to be sold

And stood in riches of timber, and untapped oil

 

 

In days of old

The body of Ghana knew no cold

Her people did her mould

Taking only what was needed and preserving the rest

 

But intruders walked in

Having stripped their own naked

They came with a peaceful hand

And hid the stealing manipulative one at their backs

 

A shake of the innocent

Landed into a trap of no return

Conquering the strong and selling beings

Eroding innocence and spoiling respect of kings

 

Until Ghana stood vulnerable

In front of visitors whose thoughts were not honourable

Looking on as her clothes were being torn apiece

Until her nakedness was nearly public

 

It dawned on one Nkrumah

Who joined a group to have their Ghana clothed

That the violent takes it by force

He took it in its sad form wanting to make it strong

 

Strength he had turned well

But greed for his throne turned his thoughts dictating

And so it was that all forgot

Of the woman who needed and still needs clothing

As they fought and are still fighting for her seeds

 

Ghana, Ghana

Beautiful woman Ghana

Beautiful tree of decency and boldness

You’ve had the patience so please wait awhile

Just as you were taken from strangers

One will come and clothe you well

Ignoring his own hunger and gain

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014