Water accepts stone
Stone spits out water
Sand floors them all
…no matter how hard they hide
That should tell you
…your hard might be mad for one
…but play for the other

Just as goings and comings
…births and deaths
…are life’s play things
Your anger is someone’s joke
Your paralysis is someone’s moke
Your flame is someone’s smoke
Your rum is someone’s coke
Bodies write not their earns, so stay woke
…before you, a higher, badly poke

Tell your side
Oppress none
Let other mouths speak from the views of their eyes
Express yourself looking at your opponent as your mirror
Rant not on pain’s bought
Announce no lies like a newscasting crook
Never nurse hatred unwarranted
Call out and make up
Excellent human management rounds to encircle

Our hearts are like different brands of cars
They are fed different emotions
…and process same news differently
That does not mean dogs must eat dogs
…so frogs will get things to croak on
Open mindedness has unending room
…where disagreements can battle into respected opinions
…then agreements
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Nov. 28, 2019

1, 2, 3, 4 and A, B, C, D, E

I. Respect
2. Kindness
3. Progress
4. Love

A. Care
B. Tenderness
C. Trust
D. Consideration
E. Love

You give me 1 and I’ll give you 2
We can both work 3 to get to 4
That is my 1, 2, 3, 4 of fairness

You give me A in a 1 and I’ll give back 1 in an A
We’ll arrive at B through the doors of 2
And use 3 to get to 4
And through careful thoughts in C get to D
…then E
That is my 1, 2, 3, 4 and A, B, C, D, of my E

There are no familiar zones for short cuts
There is no millennial room for cheating
There are no traps to take bribes
And there’ll be no military for coups
The clear line is like one drawn by a perfect architect
And hosts the competition with a never resting sun
Only the first to get here
Gets to the bottom of my E
As all others gain their 4 in a fair fight
Fairly unfair, I know
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 7, 2019


Mr. says she is evil
Who allows more than a pestle to pound in her mortar
Mr. says she is petty
Who uses the many mortars a pestle pounds into to act same
His reason, pestles go whole and come not less
Mr. says pestles always come to their original mortars
After straying no matter how beautiful their adventures
But Mr. didn’t think of the mind always digging up
Emotions of hurts
In belongingness breached by outside poundings

Mr. thought not well through
Mr. spoke, sɛbi, from his pot of selfishness
In a normal world
Mortars can welcome more pestles at once
In this modern world
Nkofie which previously gave us out
Surely can be cleared even days or months ahead
Those questioning eyes should rather look into your reflection
In this modern world
A mortar’s ticklish wishes hide not in chains of morality
Why should “you do me” not embrace “I do you”?

By all means Mr. should hold his pestle on his charming forehead
Hammering away in welcoming mortars
But should be no Agokoli building a high fence in manipulations
What is a world of two where one’s explorations forbid the other?
What is a world of two when one fills his feelings and shuts another’s in?
What is a world of two when one’s guttering filth can fill a virtuous temple static in a land of holiness?
Mr. is like a goat building metal fence for a vulnerable sheep
Mr. thought not well through
Does he think himself superhuman?

As for me o
His haunts can’t taunt my hunt
As for me o
His “hei”s hurt not my “hi”s
As for me o
His poundings are tickets for my pounded
As for me o
The sky is one on our earthly pates
So “I do you, don’t do me” is his child play
Made up to tickle my nkro bɔ
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 28, 2018


Dawn is a path finder
Of what days, in cloth hide
While many losers fear to morning face
Accomplished men can’t wait to greet its palms
Still, the vigilant cock crows
To alert them all

There are cases and there are cases
Humans who walk on toes
And those who walk on foes
Taken men fear to be caught
With foxes in their pleasure slumbers
Taken women dread to be seen
With tight waistlanders in pleasure slumbers
But the vigilant cock crows
To alert them all

There are those whose hearts bleed in the dark
Those whose hearts crave for the dark
There are those aided and abetted by the dark
Yet have no power to hold
The legs of its time
And those who will do anything to hold day still
Funny how the vigilant cock crows
Without delay
To alert them all
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Some are born kings with wings
Like mushrooms growing on anthills
They get to battle trees in height
Their only prayer
Not to be grazed down
Ambition, not a usable tool
Maintenance,  a need

Some are born free to spree
Like left kites in right sights
Flying high with the right air
Shaking their rears like proud flags
Their only prayer
Not to meet interceptions
Ambition,  neither needed nor hated
For they have a top to climb
Or a down to fall

Some are born beggers
Like little orphaned vultures
With no feathers on wings
Ambition is a need to feed
Feeding is continuous risk
To rise
Because what chase is everything
From dust to the breather which sustain
Life has a scary window
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


In this very wake
Some elephants are uprooting grass
Like angry farmers battling weeds
Under their precious crops
The only difference
Is they don’t turn back
To gather, eat or mulch
All they desire is to pass and kill with no apologies

In this very wake
Some antelopes feel their boneless grinds
In the mouths of lionesses and their youngs
Like they are their properties
To be used as they please
They do feel wronged and forget
The very grasses
Which grazed their tongues
And fed their growth
To be what they are in the canines of their brutal hosts

In this very wake
Dogs are howling at passing souls
Like thieves who have no reasons to ply earth
Forgetting they disturb the angry peacefuls
Who hover to flee
As eyes of their beloveds open in shutness
To their very essence
Well, one can give them credit
For making some thieves think
And scaring others off
Oh some must be pitied for joining those unseeables they bark off

In this very wake
Some cats smooch the grounds
As cold holds through their furs and bite their fleshes
As others smooch their blankets
Some smooch their kinds like flirty guitars
As some are being smooched by higher fingers
Who seek other fingers but fetch the furs
As their yearnings linger
Great secret keepers they are
So they do deserve some pardon from Efos’ saucepans
And peace from puppet laddles
But who asked their meat to be tender and sweet
For the number nines who are great teachers and recruiters?

In this very wake
Some minds cry for rest
But gain chaotic peace for worries unneeded
Other minds rest peacefully
Occasionally being tapped to look for unfindable remedies
For their rested neighbours
Other minds can’t take the taunts and haunts
So drag their neighbours to wither for eternal peace

In this very wake
Mouth of the earth tries to shut its eyes
And gag itself
But none of that is possible
As it has no lids
And has no voice
But they are happy lovers of all movies
Because of the bribe to taste it all
The good, the bad
The happy, the sad
The sane, the mad
And all that breathes have had
Now dawn shares their breezes with crowing cocks
In this very wake
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



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


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


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


Banana plants

I braced all weathers


Suffered through falling


I faced the anger of mean suns


Seeing my twin being pampered

Simply because I was banana 

And not plantain


When she was watered,

I was neglected

When she was shaped,

I was left in my withers

Now, plantain sleeps

In this weather as I suffered to deliver

My sweet cherished babies

And you want what?


You need to have them

To pacify the anger of hunger

The irony cuts like a knife

But it is not fair

Not fair at all that I have no mouth

Your will and hands are more powerful

And my static-ism brands me powerless

But what blessings is there in things

Given under duress?

Twin plants need same tendering

Who knows the urges of the future?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


Picture by Julia Manuel
Picture by Julia Manuel











Bread broken unequal brings baits

Beckoning hatred, brewing feuds

Beasts in brains when awoken roar

Burning blind poor innocent beings

Before bears break and beasts do bounce

Break breads equally to straighten

Bended breaks and let the peace be

Brothers and sisters share great bonds

Burns are bitter, warm is better

Breeching the fairness code hurts cold

Best things grow with satisfaction

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014





If the world was so fair

Then all will not care

About everyone being fair

How can the world be fair?

When we step on the earth

And hate its forever living dust?

How can the world be fair

When we are moulded dust 

And hate the source of our lives?

How can the world be fair

When none wants to share?

How can the world be fair

When the sky has its dark share?

How can the world be fair

When humans snare



Animals skin

And still boast

Of artificial beauty?

How can the world be fair

When plants, trees and shrubs

Are food, medicine and boosters?

Snare, tear, wear and clear without care

Fairness can never be a worldly trait

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


images (3)


The rain took its time

And came to run the sun out

Now the sun so waits

To run its rival, rain, out

But rain’s storms give nasty shouts


Rain has many guards

Who always seek to defend

Poor sun without guard

He peeks, scared, rushes to hide

Waiting until bad rain leaves


Sun cries in his heart

The sun feels the world unfair

And hopes for favour

To afford protective guards

To fairly face angry rain

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014














Light is opening its heavy gate

Body guard darkness and its late dawn

Open slowly as jealous dawn cries

Ready light sits in its highest throne

Waiting to its subjects lead

As they move about and seek to feed

It leads kindly its precious light

It helps the poor and helps the rich

It helps the sad, it helps the happy

It helps the sick, it helps the strong

It helps the bad, it helps the good

Even the confined feels its presence

Light oh light! You mother of all!

Your work is noted! Your work is noted!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014







I need a ladder

On cloud’s palace

To see the weather

And count the malice


I need some goggles

In the air

To judge our struggles

And make it fair


No need for one to suffer

Not fair for one to enjoy

If we all suffer fair

We will work like a pair

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014







download (1)

Rains are blessings

Rains can be curses

Fire is a servant

Fire can be a murderer

Food is what we are

Food can steal our treasured lives

I am a near nirvana

Flawed, heavily flawed

In unmanageable hands

I am like the fire which kills the cold

But my buttons must not be pushed

Lest I kill the one I was protecting from the cold

I am flawless in my flawfulness

Always ready to serve

Cut to perfection’s perfection

Cut to perfection’s destruction

I am a flawless being

Treat me as such, and you’ll be served flawlessly

You treat me flawful to your own peril.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014