CLOSED EYES

Closed eyes see best
But suffer mistrust and fear
Closed eyes feel best
But no matter its painful tear
It matters not to the open rest

II
The elders say
Children can climb the tallest trees
And will never be able to see the needed
Wrinkled old men sit behind closed doors
With closed eyes
And see as far as far’s destination
Why do old ailing eyes have all the visions?

III
The world gets kinder after every torture
The world gets clearer after every tear
The world gets predictable after every stormy slap
The painful lot is knowing all the amswers in static and rotting mode

IV
Before every breakable breaks
It tastes the pain of pressure
Listen to the eyes
Listen to the closed eyes
Listen to the closed eyes who speak in wide travel
They know best what time hides
The same time which gives brides
And turn them into wrinkled chides
And gives grooms and turn them into worrying dooms
Listen
As they chirp in shrilled tones
Behind sticky and policing eyelids
No matter their predictions
They are the mouths of experience
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Jan. 14, 2017

SPECTACLES OF INNOCENCE (CRAZY STANZAS)

www.lomography.com
http://www.lomography.com

When I wore spectacles of innocence

And wore the clothes of fancy daydreams

When I walked the grounds seeking swift knights

And had the smile of complete trust

When I walked in authority

Thinking dreams could be commanded

When I had the shape of a perfect heart

And had a mind untainted by bitter experiences

I thought all leaves medications

All fruits edible

All liquids quencher of thirsts

All wings lendable

And all fins borrowable

II

Until bees of realism stung

Horrors of nightmares showed on gigantic thought screens

Hands of disappointments slapped like hands of high soldiers

Unwrapping fruits of deceits

Arrows of pain pierced

Horses of hatred raced

As echoes of failures danced

Bouncing on stones with teasing strokes

III

Even the attractive moon that pampered

The glowing star-companions I worshipped

Are suspects of ill machination collaborators

Against my steps

How many steps did it take to get here?

Are they retractable?

How many breaths did it take to get this far?

Are they undoable?

How many pinches have I so far by needles life?

This pained agony considered sweetly sour!

Life is a live coal to some

And a soft carpet to some

Unfairness lives only in name

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

THEATRE OF DETECTIVENESS

eyes

Take me there,

There, to the place where truth and lies meet

And leave me there

 

II

I will stand there,

There, at the place where truth and lies meet

Until time’s sun rise fully on them

 

III

Time’s sunshine will show the chameleon there,

There, at the place where truth and lies meet

And will show the shinning diamond

 

IV

So take me there,

There, at the place where truth and lies meet

And let me experience the theatre of detectiveness

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015