In Ghana, the sun always sets

Now elephants, coconut trees

The cockerel, the sun

All battle to topple the umbrella


Some call it the leaking umbrella

Which has been bribed by nature’s delicacies

To cancel its safety obligation

Some call it the weak emblem

Blown in shame by winds of corruption

Some call it a standing failure

Doped in troubles, shielding only the best of vitamin D

And clean and needed water in drought

What is what?

Ghana stands like a helpless cow

Waiting for a painful slaughter


If only all audience had perfect eyes

Eyes which see no ethnicity

Eyes which see no affiliations

Eyes which see no connections

Eyes which see nothing but growth for all

We could have it all

And triumph over our fall

Mother Ghana! Your breasts suffer

From the teeth of the vampires you breed

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) November 15, 2016



Hide and seek

Is what they play

The sun and moon seem very meek

With a hide each slay

With appearance they speak, freak, leak and peek

Every second is their stirring day


We trust and curse as we seek

They jump and hide as they play

Hide and seek

We dock, we clay

Neglecting their rests and loving gay

As we toil and freak

In this earth with hay

If we can only stop in brain kick

We would see their hide and seek

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Image Credit: Google pics


Maybe you were too forward in your approaches

Maybe you were born with ideas too “future-ristic”

Maybe you were too over zealous in your quest for the best

Maybe you hoped for far too much

But your works remain a legacy


You were rains on the raging fires of colonialism

You were a power mind none thought a black being could posses

You were a developer who thought of your “now” and “future”

You were an indefatigable eagle with wings of protection

You were a fixer with an ever-present  personality

You were a man with the perfect plan in mind for Africa

As you sought togetherness and strength for the weak infant shoots


Maybe power stained your humble thoughts

Maybe winning corroded your human thoughts

Maybe complacency made you lower your protective thoughts

Maybe you were like a great tree which disregarded its stem

But you made your marks and they were deep to last

In the minds and hearts of all, no matter the diversity


We drink water and have thoughts of you

We use electricity with thoughts of you

We go to school and we have thoughts of you

We ply some roads and we have thoughts of you

We think of trains and we have thoughts of you

The great spokesperson

The great gentleman

The great palm tree whose remains even benefit his nation




Making thoughtfuls

Eat the fruits of pain

Oh, you are buried with thoughts unharnessed






Antagonistic and


But you are so gone


If you were like a seed in a fruit

You would have been pampered in holy wombs

Be watered and fed to grow better

And be treated best at your birth

While being nursed for more greatness

But too bad

We pinch ourselves for the shattered pot

Which can never be mended


You lived well

You lived wondrous

You lived in near perfection

Making all feel your blessed impacts

Sleep well although the well you created mostly suffers thirst

Sleep soundly although the wealth you left is now like bread being pested on by termites

Help us in spirit know the buttocks to push on the golden chair you created

And give those buttocks eyes to select hands with the golden touches

Which can help mould the nation you created

We need to keep moving

To maintain the legacy you left for generations unborn

For it is an honourable legacy worth keeping

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015




Mama Africa’s curves for her beautiful carvings

 Is also part of her starvings

I can’t believe the multitudes

Of capable minds, which have been smoked like fishes

Slapped like idiots Raped like animals and

Burnt like firewoods in hot kitchens


 Minds which could have stopped her looting

Minds which could have clothed her nakedness

Minds which could have fought for her stance

To keep her own and grant others loans

 Minds which could have attracted congregants

 Minds which could have urged on the best

Minds which could have loved her ways

Refined her dismays And cast her rays

 On the best of her days

All these minds burnt and buried

 Like abominables meant for the ground


I wish they were like spilt waters

 Would have wanted to mine them

Yes, mine minds who saw it all

To tell tales of the formulas for her fall

So work can start on its refurbishment

To cut the disgrace ornaments

Wrapped around her neck

And replace them with reverence

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



No matter the defect

No grave shaming is correct

Imagine a human feeling like an insect

Calm solving gives effect

Shaming like a bouncy ball can deflect

 So please perfectionist, do reflect

And carve a suitable dialect

For a newbie with defect

Your affection will grow that reflect

And reflection will avoid future neglect

And like a smiling sun, you will find all to be perfect

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



We bask in the masses’ dirty clay

And taint out royal thrones of grace

Fearing whisperings which eye our ways

We taint and taint until fate does faint


We drink from the masses dirty well

And help in their sachet dirty sells

Fearing hurts of eyes which look in strangeness

We drink and drink until we shrink


Ring and ring until you sing

Sing and sing until you fling

Do your know or take your blow

Build the nation or break it down

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



When a storm uproot mighty trees

And catches the seas in its palms and splatters

Causing sands to hug in marriage

As its anger burns shelters to ashes,

Only brave hearts can brave the storms


When chaos sings a duet with pain

And clapping eyes throw punches insane

Hurts cover possibility of gain

Like a lion guarded cave, hiding treasured stones

Don’t give in too easily into the tombs

Think of the pains of your hatchery wombs

And put on your brave clothes


I know it is windy and you can’t see

I know the dusts are running with their fingers in your eyes

I know trees are dying, taking their oxygen to their graves

But breathe on and brave the heat

Brave hearts always do conquereth the fair

Nothing, nothing absolutely worthy

Ever comes unguarded in sufferance

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

(In difficult times, we become blind to what God is preparing us for. This poem is for all those who are in difficult situations thinking there are no solutions. No matter what they are, they too, have expiry dates. Trust in yourselves as the conquerors you are and be brave.)


Abena says Kwaku Bonsam is a liar
He feeds on lies
And hoards them in his bloated belly
He needs mere friends as brothers and cousins
He needs his ugly face as handsome
He needs his piggy beddy bounces
As the best ride on a smooth road

Bonsam says Abena feeds fat on lies
Truth brings out the worst in her
So he indulges her
Ugly clothes form beautiful rings from his mouth
Horror hairstyles wear beautiful ribbons from his mouth
Tasteless foods wear delicious words from his mouth
He says he paints white on black
Just to make her smile static
Now mouths have many complaints
I won’t discriminate
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Wasted humans are like human nails

Those scratching gently

Are replaced in days

No one recognises their importance

Teeth murder them at will

Blades are their wicked cut throats

While cutters are like their doom judges

So scratch deeply in light as hard as you can

Not on other skins

But on minds

So that your bright scars will be relevant light

Which can lead even with your passing

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Take me there,

There, to the place where truth and lies meet

And leave me there



I will stand there,

There, at the place where truth and lies meet

Until time’s sun rise fully on them



Time’s sunshine will show the chameleon there,

There, at the place where truth and lies meet

And will show the shinning diamond



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



When craving pangy bells did rang

She lovingly caressed to ease the stress

Fuming and threatening that which gnawed

With laws which seemed outlawed

To make me see that one is flawed

When he, she or it, gets to my bad side

Increasing love was never cherished

Until the mouth of the grave opened

And called her out in a loud shout

What am I to do here now?

Her hands can no longer reach me

From the mouth of the grave

And I yearn for them in the middle

Of the river of my tears drenched in my fears

Like a stray cat lost in a vast sea

Oh Grandma! You so chewed!

Oh Grandma! You so maimed! 

Oh Grandma! You who had so much love!

Ascend the grave

Come here and save

Save your beloved in the form of me

For I was wrong to see so late

That what we had, was just one

Yes, one for once in a lifetime

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Even without the cock

The hen does its wake

Pecking and pecking

For its children’s sake

Opening its wings

When danger does bake

A piece here, a piece there

An angel in the wake


When sticks are coming

It does shout for all to run

When chicks need afternoon roosting

It sits and forms a house

When people are chasing 

It stands with its cutlass beak

A hen is a ten god

Familiar with the rod



Cocks just crow

Mate and glow

Showing the shoulders in a mane

Which flows

Growing the muscles

Like scary crows

They are super models

To be emulated by men

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



Ring riding rims that roll

Wretched realms roll wretched wreck

Riding and ringing reads reaping rains

“Ray has got a ray that say he’s gay”

As in happiness in life which never ends

So ring ring ring your bell

Riding rims that roll and flow

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



A mumble in the jungle

Is no fumble to be humble

It is a trap of a triangle

To cage you in a crucible

No need to yourself entangle

By a mumble in the jungle

Shhh, there are many empty crucibles

With ears on the ground for a mumble

So yes, mumbles feed the crucibles

In the jungle

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


There was a kind hearted man

Who had a very rugged can

And used the burrowed name of Dan

To have many an aimless fan


He used a perfect pun

When he wanted to show he can

And bragged “my can does show I can

Because my can still lives like a can”


He said he once had a ban

Because of his rugged can

But he lived like the Bible’s Dan

And conquered the mind of the lion kingly man


His tales of that naught can

Can go far as creation of man

He claims it is just one

That the gods made for him to have some fun


Funny how that can was his fan

Funny how that can was rumoured to have played a pun

A pun of another using it to cease the breathe of Dan

And afterwards getting away by taking a run

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015



I live in a skirt

A skirt zipped tightly to seal

To seal as a present for the deserved

I’m not renting out

Definitely no to-lets


I know in rat holes

Many moles can be placed

To trap the hole lords

But this zipped hole is not a rat hole

Serving as a play ground

For hunters


I am a woman

People say “a woe to man”

Amazing how man still chases to woo

Please set your mind free

Ask and get permission

But know defeat

And stay away


I’m a temple

A temple hoarding many blessings

For the deserved

A temple, a temple only for one

Not all, so you can try to see your fate

If you are bounced, step not onto holy grounds

For you would be cursed then

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Fireflies are hiding their fires

Knowing well that dark always hires

Living amidst the normal as desired

A fly here, a fly there in evenness


Be a firefly

Know when to glow

Be like a river, know when to flow

Even if it’s difficult you just try

Or try being a butterfly

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Rose buds


Sell beauty


A peel

A fall

And beauty wanes


Must be hard

To depart in peeling

Falling apart

On different grounds


Glad that we are humans

Who can be brought back

As a flower bud

Even when we peel and fall

On different grounds

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


Long ago,

When we sat by the fireside,

And watched our shadowed selves

On the mirrored ground

By the side of the full moon,

Grandma told me to look up

And watch keenly the full moon

Knowing not what she meant,

I looked and told her I saw only a stain of clouds

She smiled and asked me to listen and look well

And I did


“Long ago,” she started,

“There lived a strong man

Who was a drummer

A drummer none could compete with

His source of inspiration was his love; Oforiwaa

The king of his village had eyes for this lady

And did all he could to separate the two

Since commoners could not fight royals for women

He decided to flee with Oforiwaa

Fleeing did not help

So he, with the help of a perfect moon,

Made Oforiwaa his

With the slow breeze as their witness

The moon left them, travelled

And returned,

Oforiwaa failed to get her visitor

The god of fertility whispered its presence

In her ears

The whisper was loud and so many ears heard

The King heard too

And called her to book

She failed to mention the name

Of the warrior who brought the visitor

So she was beheaded 

Ofori, her man, was so sad

That he went to speak to the moon

But the moon kept moving 

He looked up and saw a shape like her woman

On the moon

He resolved to join her so he could play wonderful tunes

To keep her smiling

He took his life and joined her on the moon

And yes, they formed the drummer and his woman

He, tirelessly playing his drum

She, pleasantly listening in admiration

That started a revolution of love

Because the village never got the like of Ofori

Who played to tame the gods”


Well, her story opened my eyes

For a brief moment, I saw them;

In their perfect happy living

And I asked myself:

Will I ever love like that?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014













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














For a hole to hide its finger

When nobody is watching

It shuns its precious little wingers

And goes hunting in a sunny scorching

It knows it is in danger

But thinks of the warm little hole

It dreams of the finger in a manger

And desires for it with its heart in the whole

“Why will I sit in cold

When there’s heat to mend this soul?

I’ll never my finger fold

I’ll eat in the holey bowl”

And so it went chasing

For a goose whose wings were golden

It sweats with its finger burning

And limps as all beholden


The goose thinks of it as a novice

Who has been caught by the hole

It laughs thinking of its service

And swears to tire the mole

The goose jumps with style

It jumps in confusion

The goose slows and jumps like its on an isle

It jumps tiredly caring not about its intrusion

The kingdom watch its finger

As it bells its greedy need

And watch its small figure

Which they know the hole will never consider as feed

The goose had pity and held its finger

Broke its city messing his whole

To make sure he’ll get no more party for a winger

It flies to the dark and watches its little abandoned wingers grow big in his left hole

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014

















Prekese and dawadawa

Unlikenesses in rawness

Loved refined


Momoni and Koobi

Nose irritants in the process of refinement

Delicacies in refinements


By being in the sand

And getting stepped on

Gold walks through shame

To attain fame

In the eyes of the refined

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


Eagle flying around searching for food









The bird cries at night

Begging for more humane rights

To fly like a kite


Yes fly like a kite

When the sun is shining bright

To feel the cool breeze


It is so glaring

That guns thirst for its poor blood

When the sun smiles bright


It begs for its wings

To extend to its right height

Without fear and doubt


Let thirsty guns sleep

In the day when its sleep weeps

So it can fly right

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014











In the heat of the fire

And the temper of the sticks

Say sorry to calm the stakes


With the heat of anger

And the thirst of the guns

Say sorry to calm the stakes


Caught in the hunger

Of the cutlass and the heat of blows

Say sorry to calm the stakes


Like water

Which quenches all fires


Like balm

Which soothes all wounds


Like the calm

Which cools all hearts



Is the best intervener

And the greatest force

To root peace within our midst

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014





My mind and my heart clash

And in their most horrendous bash

They win in turns

The heart mellows and turns

The head stands firm

And squirm

It ends up with the heart wanting

The head weighing


So what is this?

I want you

I fear you

I need you

But my head can’t have you


This dilemma

This barrier

This fear

Can it be bundled like a network bundle

To make me free?


Standing with the future fear

Of loneliness

And the present fear

Of being cheated

Is no place for the poor

Lonesome, confused me.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia  (c) 2014







The farmer who planted you

Tends more to others

And you feel so wronged?

Heal with zeal


A thorn from another flower or an insect

Pricked your beautiful leaf

And made a worldly see through hole?

Heal with zeal


You’re shortened

When you can be tall

Because your sky has been blocked by ‘greeders’?

Heal with zeal


You don’t know how

But somehow you creep

And all plants and animals tend to make you their ground?

Heal with zeal


You are a loner

You are considered poison

Wherever you are, none wants to be?

Heal with zeal


Heal with zeal

No matter how small,

Have your meal

Stop your mind from rolling like a ball

Kill all the bothers and make them nil

You’re not the first in this hall

No matter how much you think your life unreal

Just listen to your life’s real call

Pay the bill

And head out tall

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014



The hands which frets

The eyes which call for want

The head which battles the heart

The tongue which yearns to taste

The legs which move and complain of pain

The ears which draw attention and hurt

The nose which smells good and bad alike

Other organs we always wish to satisfy

Are all cooking with every second

For the daily feast of the grave.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



They swam in competition for the eggs

And won their race

Just hoping for some pecks

So they bore all the cramping and escaped from sicknesses’ chase

Only to come to the shore

To realize they boarded the wrong vehicles



Now what?

No matter the many walks one will take

You see some begging for labour shot

Trying to fake their ages in order to their meals bake

Their sweats cry for help

As their will conquereth their pain


These angels on the street

Trying to be on their feet

They gnash their teeth

In order to hunger beat

They strain their bodies’ meat

And kill their smiles


Let the vehicles that brought them here

Take them back there

There, where their struggles started

There, where their trust forced them to war

Seeing some lost their parts, others hungry,

Others suffering, being beaten and dying is horrendous


Please wake to feed the labour of your pleasure

Mother earth, please let them see the curses they’re incurring

Father sky, please help the pleasurers know their sins have no measure

These angels came to help us live on, only asking for initial caring

They do not deserve this? Please Africa rise

To get them off the street and out of their misery

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014



Cats and rats

Stay in opposite rays

They clap and slap

Their eyes on each other;

Rats desperate in outwitting

Cats desperate for food

“No offence intended

No defence for the weak”

Is the slogan of cats

“No place for slacking”

Be a cat or a smart rat

Chances are, you live full

Or you live being a good runner

Just don’t be none

Because then, you’ll be chewed anyway

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


Do it to perfection

The needed direction

Which will take me to that mansion


Do it to perfection

By not going against your instruction

To cause any commotion


Do it to perfection

The words which wow the congregation

And gain you much affection


Because I’m open eyed in this mansion

Looking for why I need to undertake the huge mission

When you follow not your own vision


Hands sweep for legs to walk

Hearts issue for the mouth to talk

Don’t become a weak stalk.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


In the comfort of the dark

With a gentle stream of light


In the sea of silence

With a perfect mind scenery


In the chaos which surrounds

With no ears but mouths at war


At fears stroke and pity’s mope

With emotions rushing up and down


In the perfect city of love

With smiles and happiness as company


After overstaying a welcome

And love kicking him out of its beautiful city


Living flowery

As it dawns on him the nearness of death’s claws


Immersed in the beautiful sounds

Of metals, voices and fingers


Entangled in life’s battles,

A poet’s cradle is a cradle stirred somewhere deep in the mind.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


Associators are interested in the past

Money makers are interested in the future

So I used to look back;

Back to a place I could not hold

And into the future;

Looking into what I could never see

And ended up in the same place,

Juggling between two poses

Past and future

As time placed me in different day buses

Which transfered me into month buses

Then year buses


I don’t know the wake up call,

But I know what interests me

And it is the most important

The present, this very present

All along it gaped at me

I acted the fool because I had no clue

So take a cue.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


I’ve come from far

Far, far from alien lands

I swam from the ocean of life

Onto a hardened ground

Sans clothes, sans pride

Tears being my only escape


I slept, then sat, then stood

Then walked, then took to my heels

And I’m still running

From a toddler, I jumped into childhood

Then stole my way into tenaging

When my parents weren’t looking


I stepped boldly into adulthood

And I’m dawdling, wanting to stay here

But I’ve realised that I’m a traveller

With travelling heels embedded in my being

I move even in my sleep

And fear takes me closer to the next level

Which I dread until I move downer.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


I hold a calabash

You are the well

Thirst has visited my being,

Parching my throat,

And controlling my breath


Please open up

And let this calabash

Taste a little of you

And be satisfied so I can have the rest

If not, please hold this mouth and feed my thirst.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Whatever you see

Comes with a fee

But the hand that pushes into the earth

Takes no fee


You can turn

You can burn

You can sit, spit and kill

You are bound to be slaughtered like the hen


So much for good living

When a fall causes land seeping

Let’s open our eyes

To the inevitable which will soon be creeping

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



An oven when  the sun fumes

A freezer when the rain spews

Chaotic battlefield when tempers rise

Pauper worshippers without shame in the light

But true serenity stays in Tamale


Strong muscles dazzle at work

Loud voices call for customers

Angry consumers get into their own way

Fuming and cursing the patient ones

But affordable things parade at the Tamale market


Heads with strong paranoia:

Touchy about religion,

Touchy about ethnicity,

Manly minds overflowing with superiority abound

But one can touch humanity in the land called Tamale 


Tamale, my land of dreams

Tamale, where my hands are extended

Through the confusions of safety

I live, I breathe, I hope

Tamale, Tamale, I hope we grow.

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




They hear “fuck you bitches

You ain’t shit, damn you bitches, am ma fuck you”

But clad in skimpy clothes

And shake their properties

As overdosed dopers slap squeeze them like unripe mangoes

How can you betray your kind,

Insult them and brand them useless

By dancing to your insults and theirs?

Tears of disbelief trickle

As I watch these beings parade in what they think is their fame

Huh? Fame? Hilarious!

If I had the powers,

I’d say “a pox on you” to cast the most horrible ones on you

So you can hide away and let some of us

Have the peace of going out with smiles on our faces.

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


Never meeting its production,

A machine lied cold

Disobeying instruction

And its defiance showed


All productions went in the way

Of other machines which were ready

But this machine had nothing to say

And looked keenly but had nothing to study


Its master got angry

And  stopped its oiling

And told all and sundry

About the name it is soiling


So it froze with severe weather

Its regrets unable to see sunlight

It broke into pieces like a milled feather

While its fellows shone bright


Yes, its light shines bright

Yes, its crumbling throws desperation

Yes, its darkness spells doom

But love for the body is a must

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Exhausts venomously deplete

I cannot stand many’s tune as they fashionably compete

Unseen fumes from coolers happily maim

While inventions to revive crops have a common aim

Of hurting the rivers of my eyes

And changing its colours with their respective dyes

Bones of machines lie on my flesh and heavily pinch

The little hair left to protect, others lynch

Just to get my little pests which they deem sumptuous

They cut my precious horns without replacing, presumptuous?

You know best what I mean because you are the one they prune

You have your quick revenge because you give them your hot magic rune

Making them aware of your anger

My eyes sometimes swallow some of them in anger

Though I stretch and open my mouth to eat some in hunger

They care less about me and treat me like a stranger

While they live comfortably in my belly

They find ways to appease you and try to have my rivers as their ally

Greed for comfort makes them cut my body

Thinking they’re building palaces which are shoddy

I carry their load and their shoddy mansions

And give them no sanctions

But they still aim to kill me

What will their plan of living then be?

I am their vehicle

Without me there is no miracle

They will perish and vanish

Like the rain washes their writings on a board, “Your images, burnish”

I try to say but their excessive garbage they throw into my mouth

Static, I can go nowhere without them, north or south

They still remain in me

East or west in my belly they’ll forever be

But they really want to see to the end of our ruin.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


Under the veil

Sits filth which is being washed to no avail


Under the veil

Hides a naughty machine which is always on a sail


Under the veil

Cries a toothless path shouting for a mail


Under the veil

Lies the deception, which when caught cannot be bailed


Under the veil

Ruthless hunters search fervently to shoot a hidden quail


Under the veil

Is the pathway turned rubbish mill which none aims to clear


Funny how every existence

Is made possible by the hidden mystery under the veil.


Under the veil

Lies deception uncensored in a link with the brain.

    Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




Stories are told

Of a vicar who only preached

About hell fire and its recipe

He expounded on lies




Lack of submission,


Lack of respect,


And many others

His bulky wife had a mouth as sharp as a double edged sword

She was a lioness who wore angelic clothes in public

Only to leave her claws, carnivorous teeth and burning eyes

Bare at home

She pounded the vicar like fufu in a mortar

Until the whole town got to know of the vicar’s sickness

Of natural bruises

A time came when he couldn’t take it any longer

He asked his congregation:

Who heals the preacher’s heart when he is worried?

Who listens to the preacher when he needs ears?

Who will be the preacher’s preacher?

He unveiled his blinded left eye and his lioness

And divorce walked in by itself

So I ask, will he go to heaven

Or become an ingredient of hell?

We are roped by laws

Laws we understand not

Laws which will take us there,

There, in the cooking pot of hell

To join its fire.

    Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


This leaf is raddled

Saddled by the reigns of ageing

Ageing which happily flaunts its job

To the fascination of time

And takes ridiculing as its compliment


This leaf is raddled

Raddled though it is

It has seen all shades of the sun;

Mild, seductive, angry, angered, and frightening

But none blinded it


This leaf is raddled

Raddled though it is

It has seen all shades of the wind;

Breezy, windy, stormy, tsunami

Some with its friends; rains, thunder and lightning, but still stands


This leaf is raddled

Raddled though it is

It has been stepped on

Parts torn, pests infested

And has seen many sicknesses but stood well


You’ve just started your reign

But you still are a leaf

Be no tool of ridicule

That will be sarcastic to your future

As your future me may make countenances, no matter sweet, coil.

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014


Let’s aid and abet the blowing wind

To travel across the wretched sea

To clear the dust and misty mind

Of hate and killings they love to see


I can see their thoughts like words on a board

They make no attempts to conceal the lot

If we stand to watch these in their horrid accord

They’ll direct the wretched wind toward our spot 


When the lion’s skin is in high demand

The sheep must find a sure way to help

For if it so happens they can’t meet their demand

The sheep must shed its skin to help


I don’t want to be the foolish sheep

Who stands to watch skin-shedding when he owns a skin

I need to be able to soundly sleep

Without a thought to the future of my meat and skin

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014


“Mother, did any one see God creating things?

Mother, if child births are painful,

Why didn’t God put the womb on males?

Mother, Why don’t all living things work by day?

Mother, is hell real or just a myth

To scare people into submission?

And mother, I want all explanations with scientific proofs”

What do I do?

Why so many mysterious things?

Must many things be shrouded in mysteries?

Now I have a question for you,

Why did You put curiosity in humans?

Did You do that to have them search for your well kept things?

Do You enjoy a game of hide and seek watching from heaven?

With that innocence, how do I say,

“Take them as they are, there are no explanations?”

We take off clothing upon clothing

When we cannot finish taking them off until our earth bell sounds,

How ridiculous!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



We cannot be the sun and moon

Whose shuttles orbit hundreds of miles

To keep their distances and painfully swoon

Light repels light no matter their differences

But this light wants to merge in a cocoon

With the light that is tearing its eyes

For its weak rays need yours to happily swoon

And sack the darkness which feels threatened and ready to kill.


I am not complacent 

I have no defences where you’re concerned

We’re different but our togetherness will be magnificent

Our first steps developed friction

Friction that was everything but descent

We speak from different times at the same time

Don’t even think of being reticent

No matter our times, we stand in unison, so please unburden you and me.

           Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014



Hehehehe, one plus one is one

But what is this I hear?

That Paa Ekow wants a nice earthenware

To be his one and only bowl.

Not a bad idea, after all, a man must have a bowl

But, what is this I’m hearing?

That he wants a last-hand bowl?

This bowl I know, is no bowl to keep for a lifetime

Just last time, I saw Issifu, washing his hands in it

Before then, I saw Kwasi licking it dry,

A day before then, I saw Pee washing it after meals

Only for Yirenkyi to eat in it and like a vagabond leave it for the flies,

One time too, I saw the bowl being arrested by the town counsellor,

I am not lying oh, something about the he-goat Kojo, defecating into it,

I also saw Agbozo happily urinating into it

I also saw Konney washing his feet inside.

I nearly shattered it last time, but I knew it wasn’t my business

But look, like a new cock on a new land,

Paa Ekow picks only this bowl and foolishly parades it

In front of hands, feet and others who have washed

Whatever dirt there are on them in,

Kai! It really is the visitor who eats bad food without knowing

Area Asanka, the last-hand goods

He who know know go know soon ooh

Then trouble go crush

See them laughing, me, let me sit here and observe.

     Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014.



Her hands are not for grabs

She is the cook, the cook for all mouths

Those hands cannot be broken like the legs of crabs

They must be together for the sake of all mouths


The cook cooks and the eater eats

What is this about one wanting all her bowls?

And what is that about the other wanting the hands as seats?

Hers are the only cooking hands and there’s only a set of bowls


What will happen if greed separates them?

Obviously, your stomach will suffer and so will mine

They are there for me, you, he, she and them

Have a thought, we will gain nothing from this, not a dime!

    Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




I remember,

I remember loving the rain

Because it kissed dried leaves

And gave them lives,

It made love to the earth

And made it malleable

It also gave we the children

An opportunity to see the tears of God


I remember,

I remember loving the sun

For its neatness and light

It cooked the ground

To test our feet

And made us know

The importance of the

Bosom of the trees


I remember,

I remember my love for darkness

For grandma sat on her story throne

With trickles of fire-lights showing her face

And deepening the darkness at her back,

Like a muse, she poured down all the secrets of Kwaku Ananse; the spider

Who like a chameleon, went from doing good to being bad

And from being wise to acting foolish 


I remember,

I remember loving the farm.

The walk, I believed, strengthened my legs,

The beautiful rivers flowing through

Told me of stories from afar.

I loved the roasted coco-yams

Which were plucked from its mother root

And sent straight into the fire to enter the heaven of my mouth


I remember,

I remember the Africa to remember,

I remember the Virgin Africa,

I remember the African with untainted breeze

I remember the African that respected even the trees

Enough to apologise before cutting them down

I remember the Africa which fed thrills and smiles to her young

I remember the Africa lost in you and I.

    Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014




what gives passion thoughts?

What gives passion feelings?

What gives passion the gestures it upholds?

Like a dead wood, I live,I eat, I drink, I sleep, I wake

Only for a repeat

The sages say listen to your heart,

The adages echo, find you passion

The society screams; “a bum you are”

Parents hide their faces in shame

Where are the wings of passion?

Can it be coerced to be attracted to me?

I hate the lenses I see in all eyes

Passion, passion, come way.

   Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014