As I sit under this shade
In a pit dug by this spade
Needing a chit to be a shade
Will my bit in this here be made?

Let’s say I quit thinking it charade
And I fit into fate’s forbade
Will a hit bite in a decade
And tit a tat for my fade?

…connect the Sire in a dire dial
Creators sure know their formulas
And can fix all that is jinxed
This pit sit in a quit fit
…deserves a knowing chit
…before a worldly exit hit, please!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 19, 2020


As some blacks act snakes to shed their skins
As some Asians act carpenters
…to sandpaper their skins
As some whites act toasts
…to darken their skins
And some people act boards
…to write on their skins
How do you feel?
Just how do you feel as God?

Most of your creations covet
…what their others don’t boast of
Some shorties want to be tallers
Some tallers want to be shorties
Some slim bodies crave flesh
Some fleshy bodies are dying to be slim
Some pump their mouths like baloons
…to be plumpier
Some crave for small mouths to act lovelier
Some go to add bigger to their boobies
Some go to get cuts off their boobies
What about the back shapers?
Hip adders?
Eyes wideners?
I want to know how you feel
Just let me know how you feel as God

Because humans cry about ingratitude
Some kill themselves when they try so hard
…and satisfaction seems far
In a creation in your like
…which burns with hurts
…trying to act right by their beloveds
I wonder how you act
As you watch us try our remakes
How does it make you feel?
Just how does it make you feel as God?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © December 2019


Just as models take the shine of designers,
Actors take the shine of writers
Pretenders in pastoral clothes
…are taking the shine out of your powers
Don’t you see?
No, ahonuabobirim, can’t you see?

I thought you were the driver
And like mates
…your prophets commune knowing they are just a tribune
…so fear to err
So why have they killed your engine
…and are pushing you on reckless roads
…as you sit quietly in the front seat?

Where are the sulfur and fire
…which made examples of Sodom and Gomorrah?
Where is the flooding rain
…which caused Noah’s nation to rot
…in order to birth a new?
Where is your promised anger in your mocked laws?
Are you amused watching you being used in an abuse
…to confuse the lost
…who refuse your follow due to the tricks of your sents?
Can’t you see your comics acting tragic in your logic nation?

If you really rule your nation
You need to sit to fit and not sit
…as your throat is slit
…right in front of your worshippers
You rocking a mocking in front of all is appalling
When your laws state clearly your intolerant stand
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 27, 2019


If you lose sleep to keep a hope
…of my swinging slope
…from deviancy to your earth God cope
Then you need a potent dope
If not, you’ll forever mope
Because I will forever be a deviant

Show me the cross
And I’ll turn boss to use it as seat
For many to carry
My legs, free from the walking worry

Living in times past
Using another’s suffering to lock your passions
Throwing the keys into the dungeons of regret
Guarded by hungry lions of fear
Is no style I wish to wear
I live forever a deviant

If my body calls for tickling treasures
I will sit on shamelessness
And freely descend the stairs of passion
Exploring every cave every hair on my body saves
To arrest your blinks and harden your demons for your shrinks
I live forever a deviant

If my mouth calls for a drink to my livers shrink
I will sit on societal scares
And wheel myself into every drum
…hosting akpet
Call it whatever
If an asadweam will be my new name
I sure will embrace it
What will wreck me?
Dancing dressless with the naked air?
Drying deadly sweats and calling lost sleep to pores
…no matter which floor calls as bed?
Eyes watching to record for their fingers and mouths
To do hawking of me
And want shame as fee
Forget it
I live forever a deviant

Whatever badness is in your conventions
I am refurbishing
Because those who preach your cross
Mostly preach crap which scrap off the map leading to the tap of wisdom and
Are also those who drink the blood in dissatisfaction
Turning mosquitoes to further feast on the crowd
Those who preach “no adultery”
Are those who mostly use many owned holes hiding in their pulpits
…massaging and shiver biting
To orgasmically force their shouting of disbelief on their congregation
Blinded and bound by threats of some books
Creating holes on our pots to drain our lot
I will forever live a deviant!

So let me live my deviancy
Smoking my intestines out in realism
Blasting my enemies off
In a sanity I build
I am living my awesome deviance

For I will build my God to act ladder to climb to God
I will build my don’ts to work my dos in a comfort I feel
I have shed the skin of the dictated
And now live in the skin of the dictating
I see death’s womb right there
And you call for self arrest into some dubious religious cage?
Forget it
I am living forever a deviant
In my own deviation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 8, 2019


The God in a bird
…is its singing
…its planting
…and its flying
The God in a dog
…is its servitude
…its protection
…and to some, its companionship
The God in fowls
…is blessings of bells of waking
…lessons of care of chicks
…and still, their delicious meat
The God in pigs
…is the lesson of love even in the gross
…the taste of heaven in filth
…and happiness in being loathed for dirt baths
God in the sun
…is its light
…its rising and setting
…its heat
God in the moon
…is its ability to conquer darkness
…lead the dark-blinded
…and rule the sky
God in beautiful flowers
…is their colour
…their nectar and fragrance
…their lessons of transiency
God is in every piece of nature

God is the smile
…which can light a soul
God is the feed of needs
…of one being by another
God is the hand of help
…for every struggling spirit
God is words of comfort
…for all weary souls
God is the seed of trust
…for those in self doubts
God is the healing hugs
…for every sad body
God is the pathfinder
…for the roaming lost
God lives in our goodness
…and our every effort of right
…even in the lesson of our wrongs

God is the cheer in every queer
God is the dear in every hear
God is the satisfaction in every food
…the quench-thirst in every cup of water
She is the life in all air
God is the fruit on every tree
She is the shade in every made
God is the take in every stake
The peace in every leisure
That is the God in nature
Not the tricksters on spree
…dancing to possessions
…on Satanic bonded magic flawing beautiful traditions
…their souls owned by their follies
…as they act like immortals with their breakable bodies
…killing the most high with crimes extreme

By all means
…worship God
…the real God
Not any hiding in His counterfeit clothes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 21, 2019


You’re a God
…lost in gods
…now living in huge mansions
…looking down on the poor

You’re a God
…lost in waters
…turned clouds
…which only fall on roofs of the wealthy

You’re a God
…lost in soil
…gifting your fertility to hostile harems of cheats
…shaming the good

You’re a God
…who has lost his songs
…in tongues of the innocent
…leaving the noise of deceit to roam wild

You’re a God
…who has lost his sword for the wicked
…and replaced it with a sword
…aiming at the pious
…your wind slapping goodness at your order

You’re a God with blames
…from atrocious lies to sad sad cries
…ha, desecrating duping to unfair deaths

You’re a God whose conscience needs a trial
Your love needing a revival
For your mirrors lie in lies
Framing your monstrosity as mercy
…making your loyals fall from royals
…into robes of servants
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 10, 2019


It’s been a while
I’ve gone miles with smiles without your dial
Hosting your bitter bile
…in my heart’s file
As thoughts pile on talking tiles
What do you say?

I have traveled abroad your favour hoarding
Cruising in peace I can afford
…in your danger Ford
Should I expect your anger rod
…or scissors severing your cord?
Is there any?

I always hear you bought me
…so have got me
…even in my rot
Do you still feel me in your cot?
I forget I am but a dot
…my hot can’t hurt your lot
Are you still struggling with my mind’s knot?
You made it
…didn’t you?

I find you behind my find
…as shadow in a hollow
… I, like a rabbit, burrowed
Your empire as hell’s fire
…chasing in my acquire
…with needs dire
…breaking in at my will
So take many seats back

Your empty promises
…culminated into my many crosses
Your many mays
…pushed me to my detested strays
I am what you created
…story story
I am who I think
…knowing you not
I give you this though
…your pen did write deep in my heart
…for you to still gather alphabets
…into a piece
…to birth, even today

Continue to glow in my flow
Continue to control my stroll
Continue to blow your airs on my sores
I am abroad your favour hoarding
And I am so comfy
…so very comfy
…without your umbrella
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 9, 2019


It was so real
I had an easy feel
Sins were so few
That my tears were like morning dew

But now
I see the waters sweating sins
I see the trees chattering sins
I hear the air snaking sins
I hear the birds chirping sins
Oh mountains echo sins
Plants pray peculiar sins
Every living greatness now lives in sin bins
What do I do now?

Before libations get to my grounds
I have to dust off sands of war
Dig off disrespect of body tampering
Peel off slimes of fornication
Scrub off rusts of backbiting
And kill off flies of hatred from other hearts hidden in filth

Your calls have turned curses in wrong tunnels
Your preachings have turned poisonous on wrong channels
Your songs have turned bleaches of pious souls
Your dances have turned hammers
Murdering strong joints
Can’t you see your itches in stitches?

I hurt for your non refundability tickets
Piled on by gone generational signatures
Of wrongs and greed in their bid to poison feed
I yearn for the days when I, your God, was in gourds
And my call was in fallen cola nuts
Or water
Or palm waters
Or even soil
They are gone days now
Multiplying by the minute
Complexities of formulas for my nearness to you

You now shout loudest
…but I hear none
You now touch gently into my grand presence
But I feel bruised
You now dress fine but your sins roar
In repugnant smells from your made-belief hells
I am but an empty rolling can
Trying to fetch hands to fill myself
So I can feed your sanity back to you
How can I when I lie beneath your thick boots
And you climb over me in disrespect
Only to go call me in earnest?
Yes, you see me but see me not
In your many adulterations
I am the sidetrack of you main tracks in disdain truck
And all yous are in search of this sidetrack
A very painful laughter!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 2, 2019


Feuds hide in curtains of days past
To make monsters of grieving cast
On stages of new days
How did I come to wear a devil’s mask
In mirrors of new eyeballs?
Did you so mix days with nights to win wars of the past?

You drag me through the slums of hunger
Arrange need on street pans to sell in danger
Laid rags under open skies to catch the eyes of many a stranger
I served, bitterness swerving

You dragged me through fire
To school of the aspire
In straits so dire
Building on me a head of will
And serving difficult options on plates of confusion
Trapping me into another knapsack of troubles
I still served, bitterness swerving

So you planted a poor seed in my fertile ground
And made useless the farmer who I thought I had found
As I listened to the pain of my own sound
My hairs never resting in their pores
Turning nights into frightful days
And days into worrying trays
I still served, bitterness swerving

After climbing that mountain
With tears as my internal fountain
You asked the seventh to abort the counting
Shattering dreams of apex reaching
Pushing me to fall hard on stones of sadness
And what? You still deserve a serving?
Not that I can’t, you gave the will
This wrestling is necessary
For flesh pain feeling

So now what?
I have a devil’s mask on
In eyes which you adore?
I will scare!
I will haunt!
I will taunt!
I will this mask flaunt
Until the waves of my heart
Recede from the shores of hurts
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 8, 2019


You have been like a shadow
Haunting in my follow
Daunting in my sorrowful hollow
Uncaring even in my Jonah-like-swallow
Call me shallow
But I still can’t you follow

I can’t tell whether you’re farther or a father
I can’t tell whether you’re a monster or a mother
I don’t know what you feed, hurdles or manna?
You seem like an aggressive hen
Kicking chicks even in loving
What is this now?
A balm?
I still can’t you follow

You know the nature of what you create
You know the veins of pride which work with intestines of ego in your created
You know the dept of shame sitting in every pore on this skin
Yet you drag me through mud and dung and faeces and gutters
Shame after pain after jeers after hurts
And show me to the world on a dangling scale
How will I you follow?

Yes, you have watered anger in my fine-hunger
You know you have carved stranger in my loving-manger
And you want to see love in my look above
When I don’t know where your stool sits?
I won’t have me you follow

So take off your heels of thoughts from the tiles of my conscience
This noise makes me feel like a cat
Caught stealing in its dream
When we both know the only trait of cats I own is fierceness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 31, 2019


I have been following your mythical silhouette to find its owner
Living like a leaf carried by air in the sky of uncertainty
Anger mixes frustration and disdain
As something seems like anything
All in the can of nothing
But then again
Nothing is the mother of all things
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 10, 2019


There are so many meanings hidden
Hidden in songs ridden
Ridden on vocal cords from the bottom of burning intestines
Intestines locked away by flesh of stomachs

Rising like sunrise and stabling like burns
A heart fluttered to die and resurrected to live like a ghost
Scar of pain gathering guts to form sounds
Sounds in contribution of the chorus

Starting like a lullaby and stabling like a dirge
A heart bubbled to shatter
The blow of loss murdering a glow
A glow whose flow lies like a haunting cross
A burden which forces sounds in contribution to the choral

Starting like hope and stabling like dope
A head nurtures a vegetative dream
Which in newborn, screamed success
But beat itself into sickness and now lies immobile
The pain of failure corroding valour of its host
Helping to form sounds in contribution to the choral

Starting like trust and stabling like complaint
Babies have appeared in wishes
Running around as busy but proud hands serve dishes
A wedding marked a beginning
A beginning whose every footstep has unveiled a reality
A reality that desert wombs walk among the fertile
And wishes have no physical wings
So frustration gathers sound in contribution to the choral

Some sounds start like thanksgiving and end like pleas
Some are thanksgiving ending in even more appeals
Some are praises ending in direction asking
Some are just sounds for hypocritical belongingness
Still some are sounds with no essence
Deceit to attract, receipt of winning against holiness
Whatever meaning they hold
Buildings with God’s gods and goddesses
Oh sorry!
Temples with God’s presiding angels bear them all
They may be listening and or knowing
Oh pardon
They are listening and surely know their underlinings
This odd soul feels strange hearing these rituals
Oh no, these songs
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Dec. 9, 2018


Through the mud and through the gutters
Through the fears and through the tears
Through the doubts and through the hounds
Through the taunts and through all beatings
You have been here
Here with me shadownically
Quietly pushing
Masterfully weaving
Powerfully watering me into fruition
Ahunuabobirim, aseda nka wo din!

Thank you, for nurturing this borla bird
Into an eagle
Thank you, for protecting this ant into an elephant
Thank you for polishing me through the fires
Into a golden bird with wings so strong
Blessings and blessings and blessings and blessings
To you my God, writer of my script of life!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Nov. 16, 2018


Under the same sun
Beliefs vary in many a man
Whereas some in nature shun
Others build myths like webs in the sky
Where none tries to look as it’s so high
There are those ghosts caged without a bye
Bruskotoed on oh day and night!
Still there are some believing all a fight
A fight with none, not even a lazy knight

You know in my heart the tsunamic confusion
Of jumping so high wanting to part the sky
You know in my head the tornaded infuriation
Of looking so hard even in dreams for you in the dry
You know the hurricanic illusion
Of your chase, all ending in a sigh
I am naught but a vessel in a situation
Waiting to be pushed into breakage
And like a naught in the earth’s bosom, lie so do give me an advantage
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Nov. 4, 2018


Be in my day
And have your say
Plaster memories so coarse with happiness
Tile failures so humiliating with greatness
Paint tears with infectious laughter
In my body temple

Be in my say
And help cut my hay
In this perfect sun
Help me no downtrodden shun
Cover my pain
With the beauty of gain
In this body temple

Do bless my sky
For buttering my pie
Whether buttering so good
Or others to brood
Sweeten all life potion
To strengthen locomotion
In my body temple

Let love wash my hate
Gifting fulfilment to build my faith’s estate
Fill my erosions
To fit my emotions
You, my God, is my strongest tower
So nothing should plant cower
In my body temple
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 14, 2018


At all times, in all places
God is aboard my ship
Through all challenges, in all pain
A rock oversees my dock
A storm can overthrow my form
A rain can drain all my strength to strain
Many a mile can feed me bile much like River Nile
But at the bend to the end
He will drain all stains, and clear the bane
Oh God is on board
A fortress and a trustworthy mattress overseeing all deadly falls
Fears can pile all tears
Hurts can bet to play pet around my net
Hate can hammer my fate’s pate to create a bait
But this Doctor knows all doctored
And will all fractures manufacture
So I sail through these tormenting trials no matter how frail
Because my God is really on board my ship
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 13, 2018


We have reached the tree of hopelessness
On whose biggest stool branches sit foolishness
Who order for your beautified abode
After their worked thoughts rode
In gains of power
And a presence many will cower
Odomankomah gye wo man!

We are wearing clothes of indiscernible thoughts
Our minds with manipulations bought
Advertisements of a heavenly earth
Demonizing even struggles of dying breaths
Miracles on hard work
Loving of high jerks
Otwereduampong gye wo man!

Have you seen the magnified Jesuses in limousines?
Seen self gratification in grand scenes?
Have you seen the clothes of magazines
Against your hungry stomachs with no luck in beans?
Oh the suffocation for their little means
Against the tightest apathy of your peoples jeans?
Okasapreko gye wo man!

You see the blowing lollipops hiding in working podiums
You know the dying paupers sipping their poisonous sodiums
You know the stinking rot covered by your worshipped fame
Don’t you love your name enough to name and shame?
Okatakyie gye wo man!

We need no umbrella with gully holes in this insane though rain!
We need no hope plane with an obvious crash on these plains
We need a map from which generations can tap
Not chaos that will our generations trap
Awura mu Owura gye wo man!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 9, 2018


In this cold
Do me hold
Even when sold
Make me bold
You who did me mould

We are in grasses filled with rhyming snakes
We are cut weeds being chased by sharp rakes
We are vehicles with destructive brakes

We are bread death busily bakes
Why won’t everything cause fear shakes?

Build a hell around my well
And not a heaven to sell my shell
Build a strength to surround my fall
And not a weakness to sound shame’s call
Build determination around my vulnerabilities
And not pessimism to water my disabilities
You know the formula for my clay
So hold me till I decay
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 24, 2018


Shame has turned into a cobweb hosting my soul
As I look at my once rubbish bowl
Sitting in gold
Receiving rains of blessings in many fold
Odomankomah, forgive this body which sat on its foresight
And battled you on a crowded site

The vulture whose best saucepan was the rubbish heap
Is now an eagle who paths a dessert for many to keep
The bin of problems transforms
Forcing many a respected to adjust their forms
Why did these eyes fail to see
The blessed egg of polishings with the worst pain yoke?
Oh forgive, I was the acting joke!

Otwereduampong a yɛtwere woa yɛpong abremponteng!
Odomankomah a yɛdan woa yɛ nyɛ ankonam!
Ototorobonsu a nsu ne awia yɛ wo asomafo wo abrabɔ biara mu!
King whose crumbs of knowledge equip the best earthly kings!
A zillion tongues won’t do justice to this thanksgiving
Cementing my heart
Naase o!
Shida soong
Akpe kakakaka
Thank you for being who you’ve always been and not blinking this ingrate into ashes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 2018


I live

With the body of a lioness

But walk

At the pace of a snail

The earth; a cruel boiling

The air; a slapping heat

On this road, are monstrous feet

And on the sky’s face, is an annoying grin

Even the dark seems dangerous

As legs with no intent join targeting ones in my hunt

When did you say is your time for me?


I hope your time is not in oblivion

Where moths lay claim on what needs recycling

I hope your time is not in full age

Where old age sprinkles wrinkles on my fallen skin

As joints pull down its locomotive powers with pain

I hope your fires under this very pot

Die not at the total evaporation of its working waters

Your intent have written endorsements

But you know how fast hearts you created move 

When need chases

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 18, 2018


In this cave of pain

Where insanity is in rain

Planting needless disdain

Like that felt by Cane

Be the light in my train


You know thoughts which sit in the main

Driving me insane

Oh God of my brain!

Break these haunting chain

Which my good waters drain

Can’t you see I am in pain?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 14, 2018


You know the spine of every palm frond

Holds it firmly 

Even in the slaps and blows of the wind

You know a seed holds the future of its fruit

You know divinations of norms

Twist paths of stories

I am on this drive which the winds of life turn

Abrempong mu Obrempong

Lead my drive!


In a vehicle where I am a passenger in a bit

A mate in a bit

A driver in a bit to be turned into a passenger again

Only to get off at your appointed station

I need you to perfect my seed

I need you to fix its all

I need you to hold it into independence

So I don’t turn the alighted not so delighted

Anyame mu Onyame

Lead my drive!


This road is filled with claws and pores

Yet my tyres have no where else to thread

Every puncture fills the fun of fickles

Every stop digs the greed of pushers

Every break oils the need of the unscrupulous

Every empty tank calls for even thirsty gallons

So Odomankomah!

Odi Asaase yi so ahenkan!

Judah mu gyata!

Please lead my drive!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Dec. 17, 2017


You have cut the ribbon of shyness

From our very eyes

All contours leading to remorse

Have been made comfortable

From the slippery slope it was


Because sins grow into norms with time

And you are the programmer of the dramatic brain

Which engines us


I wonder if you peep through the anus of discos and clubs

To see sins dance in varied sneakers and heels

I wonder if you see through the “drosses” and “trousers” of fornicators

To see pestles in pleasurable laughter

And mortars in needful beckoning

I so wonder, if your eyes reach

The joints of high points in smokinghood

To know how deep nostrils reach

To fetch the line of smoke from lungs

Oh! Do you follow their steps into darkness through to your temples?

Are you regretting our creation?


I know you know the machetes

Which cause some hands to sin

You do know the poisons which will cause some minds to scheme

You do know the words which will make some vocals turn villains

Yet, you sit and watch as many perish

On the eve of your worship

How delighted are you watching the path to your glorification?

Disrespectful me!

How dare I? How dare I taunt you on the grounds of my sins?

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Nov. 25, 2017


Day has broken from the clutches of darkness

Aiding eyes, like a pathfinder

To see all in clarity

If breath stands at post

And health is on wealth’s coast

I say “anyame mu Nyame”

Nhyira nka wo din!


I can see hens leading their chicks

And cocks looking for stocks

Through the warning of wings

The insults of crows

Through the biting of beaks

And the uprooting of feathers

Through a run and a chase

Life sure says a lot about onlookers

“Ɔsoro soro Nyame, nhyira nka wo din!”


Let minds in mine know the miracles of thinking

Let hands in mine know the blessing in working

Let tongues in mine know the worth of silence

Let legs in mine know the advantages of walking

And let all stomachs in mine

Know the importance of selectiveness

Life is life because strive is rife

“Omintinmirim Nyame, nhyira nka wo din”

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 13th Nov. 2017

(To all non speakers of Akan, the quoted versions mean “thanks be to God”)


The sky lies emotionless

Far from pates of the helpless

Who like dead wood, are visibly drowning in seas of sadness

I know your heart bleeds for all your seeds

Lord of the earth! Rain your favours!


The earth sits hard in a sky battle

Uprooting supporting trees

Breaking bones of all fallen

Whose skins weep at their red tears

As veins plead for their well being

So blood can freely flow

Like desperados, they pray at thy feet

Lord of healers! Rain your favours!


Many are confined in shackles of poverty

Losing loved ones as horrifying as their beheading

Their tears like a fountain

Flowing from spirit to soul

Soul to body in shameful repetitions

Oh Lord of hosts! Rain your favours!


I know some have been tied by ropes of lies

And taken into caves of den-like prisons

Watched keenly by judging ignoramuses

Their hearts, their only true testifiers

Yet with no legs to walk into interrogation boxes

To free their hosts

Lord of lords! Rain your favours!


Societal expectations are burning the wicks of many lives

Their non conformity, an enemy to their loved ones

Raining loneliness on them

Even in the midst of many

Lord of firsts! Rain your favours!


There are lost souls following greed bowls

Thinking they hold keys to their heaven

And like sheep, tied to poles of manipulations

Bleating only on orders of fake instructions

Lord of all! Rain your favours!


You see the winds of trouble in the lives of all

You know the standing tall and the hurt in fall

You know the caged and hopping eagles

You know hearts being baked in ovens of unfairness

You know the best paths of multiple paths at the junction of dilemmahood

You do know of owls whose eyes mark pitiful ants

In a treeless and soilless realm

Lord of mercy! Do rain your favours!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 29th October, 2017

Photo Credit: Google Pics.


My breaths are best in your flow

My heartbeats are best in your machinations

My steps are best in your architecture

My will is best in your seal

Oh Odomankomah! My redeemer!

You are the river of blood in my veins

You are the air of life in my daily keep

You are my pill of sleep and my pill of wakefulness!

The beginning of my breath and my resting place

You are the only soul food with no price tag

Oh Odomankomah! My provider!

As time marks days into months into years

The sun sees diversity in its bright sight

The moon sees variety in its gentle sight

But you who sees it all, never changeth!

Oh Odomankomah! My strongest fort!

Every part of me belongs to thee so my dedication is fruitless

Every pore in me is your wiring so my every feeling is touchless

Every smell is your channel of blessing 

So my appreciation is nonsensical

But I write your blessing in my heart

In my every step and sound

Odomankomah! My world!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©  October 22, 2017


​The stance of an eye

And its distance

Determines the visions thereof

Like plants in the different pores of the earth

We stand in view of a portion

So how can our mouths be in judgement seats

Audienced by other eyes and ears

In marking right from wrong?


God may appear in different beings things and souls

To different beings, things and souls

An eye may see God in a river

A river another deem his chamber pot

Another may see Him in another being

A being who may seem foolish to another

Another may see Him in the sky

The sky which some consider only in lightning and darkening plate

Some skin may feel Him in words

Words which act noise in the ears of others

There are those who see Him in animals

Animals which serve as delicacies to others

What about those who see Him in stones?

Stones which are naught but hindrance to some farmers

So who has the best eyes to judge?


Who has the best eyes to judge?

I believe it is none but an ignorant crown

Who sees and knows only what society plastered in his mind

Let thinking minds sit into digging

Digging best from the knowledge of what is

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 13, 2017


The sounds of nature stamps your existence

Your bodiless presence calls for some insistence

Of evidence of your presence

Despite many testimonies of the taste of your essence


You are who you are

Though we know not when you were

But are dying to share

In your kingdom at any fare


We wish to with you dine

Even if we wear blindfold of wine

So we can be in line

Other than in this mood of pine


Many hearts, like bombs detonate

With thoughts of your good resonating

Many hearts are plucked like fruits at a child’s reach

Their blood presented as your present


Don’t whisper through the air

Stop rolling through seas

Stop shining through the sky

Stop supporting through the earth

Stop running through our veins

And touching through our hearts

Just show us you

And light our senses through your wisdom

To know you and your desires

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 13, 2017


​In the wake of this take

Make me windbreaks that will all hurdles absorb

Be like the unbreakable bubble surrounding me

Even as rains of drains seek all grains of sanes



As a mind which descended from the stairs of a sage

I lay my body before thy feet

Burn the evils in all the rooms of my pores

Boil the hatred in all the pain of my sores

Fry the bitterness in all the dents of my failures

Roast the memories of all the plans of my revenge

Infusing forgiveness where stubbornness dwells

For you are the mighty thumb

Without whom no knot can be untied



I am like a new born in thy hands

I am like a hatched bird in your nest

Needing your all seeing eyes

Even in this whirlwind of confusion

When the way that leads to you

Is like an unsolvable puzzle



Make my skin a tortoise shell

When the arrows of mythical chasers speed for me

Make my chest a magical crest

When unseen bullets fly my way

Wipe my footsteps in this battling sand

So I can lose the snakes which follow my legs’ rakes



 I have eyes without future light

Brace me for all that awaits

Make for me armours if a battlefield awaits

Make for me a conscience if a rosy field awaits

Most importantly, suck the fury out of my hurry

Planting patience in the soil of my heart



Fallibilities tie my abilities

Need rumbles in the stomach for my feed

Covetousness pulls in the perfection of my seed

As time tick tocks in reminding my fade

And death of all promises other births

In the midst of it all

I wait on my call to you

To mould me through a school perfect for rest

After this earthly explorations

Which cover the memory of transiency

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © August 6, 2017

(All unknown words beginning succeeding stanzas are appellations of God in the Ghanaian Akan language)


As many, their cutlasses wield
Like monsters on a game field
Please Lord, don’t let my spirit yield
Be my capable shield

I know I am not fast
My legs, in run, will not in this race last
Not with enemy soldiers at vantage points on a land so vast
Help me see this as past

As death waits to buy
Me in an auction for me to die
Lord, don’t just sigh
No matter how many rules, I, in sin, fry

I am on this hard way
Whatever I needingly say
May not throw a ray
But do look at my heart, and clear my day
I sure will in dedication pay
In praise worthy, as I in your good light stay
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) January 24, 2017


On this ground of uncertainty

Look my way

Hold my hand like a crawling toddler

Heal my feet

And hold me up


I am but soul on clay

I am nought but your weave

I am nought but your grateful robot

Help me step to you


Where the world flaws

Give me holding claws

Where fingers point to tarnish

Let your grace garnish

Where hope is caught by deceit

Like a chicken caught by a hawk

Be the safe wings of protection

Lead my steps

One at a time

Safely to you

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Nov. 13, 2016


This heart

Wears a hat

Dodging difficulties

In mythical thinking


This head

Has an umbrella

Covered in blessed rains

But seeing its fall


These legs

Want to be in congregation

Why then do they

Feel no move


I feel you are there

But eyes have no proof

The proof of mind

Cancels concrete evidence

Lord, set me right

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Ye who wove minds

As spiders weave their nests

Can you war bar

Pushing love in its stead?


Ye who made binds

As donkeys serve bests

Can you push afar

Equality in superior stead?


Won’t your ingredients vanish

As your name tarnish

Calling your presence to banish

With war recurring, making insults your garnish?


Hanging pleas

Poisoned fleas

None sees

But heads with unseen thinking caps

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016



Our God

Is so alive

Like lightning to protect

He leads without worry to clear

Our shield


Our Lord

Is our captain

In this raging hard storms

He navigates even the storms

What’s fear?



Will work madly

But will defeat itself

For it is a foot-mat to us

Thanks Lord!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Oct. 19, 2016

(Photo Credit: Google pics)


I have seen and read miracles
But never like the ones you do
In your unknown frame

I have walked and talked
Never heard non as powerful
As you Odomankoma

You give rains in dry season
And give dryness in rainy season
You crack in summer
Only to soothe in harmattan
You really know the draft you have built

I have seen many try to be you
Creating things with no touch of your perfection
No water can be satisfactory like nyankonton
No human can be perfect
Without your magic ingredient
No soul can touch the high peaked sun
Odomankoma kasapreko!
Odomankoma ahunuabobirm!
Kokromoti a woye po fapim!
You are the boss
The boss of all
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) October 9, 2016


It is our belief
That like a being hiding behind a partition
He hides behind the sky

It is our unconscious belief
That he holds a potent telescope
Watching all deeds at once

It is our odd belief
That He has a path to his abode
Paths solely definite from our stance
And made through sacrificial humans
Who lived in miracles and braveness
If even our houses have different paths to them
Why would His be different?

In order to reach Him
Many step on others
Forgetting same clay
Same fingers
Same vision of marked expectations for each

None thinks us a draft
A draft each in rightful spaces
But competitions in conflict
Not even in singing harmony
Citing Him as the crude alpha
Forgetting consciences are not found in jungles

He who is the air
And shares it fair
Showing He, for all cares
Is made speechless but still His work dears
Dipped in misconceptions
Smeared in riots and wars
He sure must live in sad aura
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) September 24, 2016


What do You not see at your worship?
Fancy clothes hiding tempts
Who boldly stand as vying angels
With mischief in wallets of their hearts

What do You not see at your worship?
Skillful and hungry pythons
Acting like prophets bitten by the famous holy ghost
Of course, how else can they get the unsuspectings to swallow?

What do you not see at your worship?
Screaming snakes
With tongues spewing carefully made ink
Faking words from Your unknown bed chambers

What do You not see in Your high seat?
Watchful and shameless cats
Who manage to guard meaty coffers
Wearing darkness of paws
To feed fat from Your frying pot

What do You not see at Your worship?
Insatiable hunters who act like game
Wearing masks of sheep
Baaaa-baaaring festive lovers
Into caves fit for their bullets

What do You not hear at Your worship?
Unmatched symphonies of needs
Battling themselves
Like die hard warriors
On deadly battlefields

How do You feel at Your worship?
As You watch fowls target corns
As hawks target the fowls
When eagles have already targeted hawks
Seeing the arrows in gauge for eagles?

I wish to wear an eye
To put on Your ear piece
To stand at Your viewpoint
Just for few seconds
To see the plot of your worldly script
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) September 18, 2016


Fickle are hearts that need
With no desire to feed
Fickle are wayward deeds
With no forming change seeds
If humans see through acts
And like judges, conclude diggers and real
Who are you to deceive God?

Most prayers are like one way streets
Ones asking vehicles ply
Never a chance of showing hearts
Never a chance of gratitude
Never a chance of kind depictions
What do you say of hands
Always stretched from pockets
And folded back in travel?
Even the gods are bribed to listen

Hunter-owners of dogs
Expect some game from their paws
At some points in their hunts
The back of donkeys feel each weight
But quietly, their mouths close to serve
Who are you to ask in succession
When the one you ask
Has felt none but your aggression
As your worship are like rituals from rote learning
So rushed for the big greed

“Kill my enemy!”
Owula, are you the only created?
“I step on Satan!”
Awuraa, how big are your legs?
“I spit on the devil”
Charley, you no dey fear?
“God I am disappointed”
Oh, you dey bore?
Go to Antoa Nyamaa with these
And see how many cows, goats and chickens meet death at your request
And how empty your pockets cry
Into the future of hunger!
Be wise!
God is not mocked
For today
Pour a libation of His rest
Say a prayer for His wellbeing
Perform Salat in His honour
If we are as He is
He sure will love some pampering
We have been diggers for long
Let’s change our hurting song
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 4th September 2016


Quack quack quack
The voices of ducky deceits sing
Like a choir in symphony
In temples haunted by God
Monies from impoverished pockets
Cry for their owners
From bellies to clothes
To shoes to watches
To cars to perfumes
On parodies of preachers

Ghosts of stomachs haunt houses of worship
Pernury taunts clever minds of tricksters deemed real
Claps in worship aimed at poor Satan
Fetching fires on leaders of the demonstration
What an irony!
I am sure Satan soliloquys his fun
Seeing the comedy of disasters
On podiums of supposed praises

How many temples are marked
For the fun of the fallen angel?
How many of his disciples lead mock
Demonstrations of his opponent?
How many souls are harvested for his storage in a minute?
Oh how many births float from his seductions
Of Marys’ turned Eves?
How many heads lie prostrate to him
For the sake of cash?
I can’t think of the tongues that mean
“Caught, slayed, hanged, fetched”
Could it be
“Hiri baba makye matwa masen, masa, hirididididididi?”
How many truthful ones still live
Under the umbrellas of trust?
None sees the diamonds in filth
God’s cane awaits much whipping
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) August 21, 2016


I know God is on board the human ship

On this wobbly twerking worldly sea

He is the air that blows so fair

He is the water which quenches all thirsts

He is the myth that saves data of our minds

He is the breath that engines our moves

The question

Why He hides in rides beside

Why He shys from sighs and cries

Leaving it be is what


I need a Jesus black as coal
One who protects our seas
And grows its trees
Paying land fees for fertility

I need a Jesus who lived through a black maiden
Probably from Krobo
One who had not gone through dipo rites
And was not struck down by an Nzuleizu gods
Or an Akan who had not seen
The light of bragoro
And excelled by breathing live air
In the comfort of his happy father
Who knew he knew him not

I need a Jesus
Who feared no mosquitoes
And lived to battle malaria through herbs
Greeting the palms of the gods who ruled
In challenge to ascertain the most powerful

I need a Jesus who felt torn from soul
Felt the biting of  human hunt
And felt the pinchings of burning egos
As aliens munched native names
Like ridiculously bitter chewing gums
Only to spit them out in trashes for their dog tags

I need a Jesus whose life was stolen
The name of his like in state
As the sword for his tame
One whose eyes saw his robbers
One whose mouth was shut by fear
One whose knees tasted such sands
That his head only faced the sun in tears
Despite his live muscles

I need a Jesus with foamy hair
One who felt the whips of alien deceit
And felt so angered by his natural skin apparel
Watching himself dance to the rhythms of inferiority
To please usurping and unworthy lords

If you find that Jesus
Who lived in black
I will forever watch his back
And always carry his heavy sack
No matter what I may lack
And will all his teachings mark
When he stands, I stand, he parks, I park
For then I will know his shadows will help
In all barks and roars
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Photo Credit: Google pics


Odomankoma the wise
Craftily hid it in all things
That we may look
Look and think
Think and link
Link and create
And so it is
That man created pipe
The source of his urine as inspiration
Well, so I think

Odomankoma the all knowing
Did wisdom in all hid
Thus herbalists looked
Studied and tried
Errored and corrected
As Asantes watched crafty spiders,
Wove their strands,
As they wove their webs
And clothed their royals
And some with the beautiful kente

Odomankoma gave half
To inspire fullness
So the sun woke and hid to sleep
In the wilderness
Of our ancestors
Who watched and scratched
And formed “bobo”
Until electric inspiration
Came from an alien head

Above all else
Odomankoma hid himself
Knowing familiarity breeds contempt
And fear of the unknown
Is addictive
And draws many to kneel
Like dedicated slaves
Needing to please
The seers of ancient past
Saw to protect nature
Your handiwork

Now heads have caught on
“Bow to let pleasures pass
Or hell’ fires have fangs so torturous”
And many bow
In crooked ways
Now not caring about the unseeing eyes
Expecting signs of end nearness
To right rightly into heaven

“Cover your damn heads you wenches
And let no sins touch your men
For you are live temptations”
And feminines who did no wrong
Have no faults
Yearn to live
“Stop your crimes
All ye men
Or suffer whipping
Suffer amputations
Suffer embarrassments
Suffer death”
And men suffer to offer
Some aided by dark
Some caught and slaughtered
Fear of the unknown

Fear of the unknown
Odomankoma crocheted
Man adopted
Fused to shock
Rocked to mock
Mocked to stock
Stocked to tock
Tocked to clock
Clocked to cock
Cocked to flock
Flocked to lock
Locked for their ends
Money in God’s hands:
Money for their comfort
Gifts for God:
Gifts for the crafty
Fear of the unknown

Archaism has rocked your creation
Once in adoration
It stands in manipulation
Work your magic
Or embrace blasphemy
The fear of the unknown now stands naked
And dances in discos of naive minds
Arresting lion hearts
None can touch piety
In your unmasked realm
I cannot say Odomankoma the flop
But if this continues
You might be thankful for the flop name
As that would be the mildest
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


How now wows calls  for vows
How now bows calls for yaws
Clean like a nightingale
But live like a vulture
Work like a bull
Live like worm
Sit like a gluttonous pest
Live like a king
Knowing big seats
Makes you all defeat
Cruelty laughs at piety
Lies threaten candidness
The world tears up in painful laughter
Its hosted crumble with its every mood
Where art thou?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Lord I need

For you to breed

My inner seed

In your kind deed


I need to feed

So I try to weed

And try to heed

But I flaw my creed


Free my mind

Free my soul

Free my body 

To sour like your dove

When I fall in the mud

I need your rain

When I fall in the gutters

I need your rescue

When I fall in the fires

I need you as my fireman

What can I ever do?

What can I ever be?

What can I ever say?

Without your very presence Lord?

Please feed my need

And right my creed

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Picture: Google pics


There is a God
There is a God who started it all
Created all the chords
And made the call
For harmony
For a wheel
Which births to shed

There is a God
The one who saw all firsts
Every shoot has a root
Every root has a seed or stem
Which births it
Everybody comes
Only He knows the ultimate root
The ultimate stem
And knows the magic
To forming the land

There is a God
One who weaves the cloth of the earth
As a spider weaves its nest
One who changes the wheels of the earth
Like a fitter changes that of cars
One who picks and drops
Like a trotro driver and mate at work
There is a God
There is a God

The world might be the size of His palms
His eyes must be the size of unlimitedness
His heart, the heart of a warrior
Seeing it all
Fighting through the fall
Heeding all calls
And answering what needs the chance
There is a God
There surely is a God
Now I know
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


There are times machetes come to slay
On screens of our mind’s play
Reminding me that I am just clay
A fallible thing who must always clear the day
Yet look like the sun which is gay
While cutting my living hay
And fearing being in enemies’ slay

Who are my enemies?
Are they the others
Created like me?
Why do I them so fear?
Is there a crown I am battling?
One which calls coveteousness
Like the Muslim call to prayer?
Why do I so fear?
Isn’t clay moulded to break?
Yet God sits on His throne
In immortality and myth
No eye is granted his vision
Causing memories to run wild
I will follow You
Knowing or unknowingly
I just wish I get the path
Or the way
To be on track
Hold my hands
And lead the way
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Swallow my light
You artificial dark tunnel
And train me in the dark
Forcing me to see
With my hands
Forcing my ears to be sharp

Swallow my freedom
And force me to taste prison
Then I will experience distaste
To know the blessings of freedom
Cherishing even its little crumbs

Swallow my pride
And force me to taste downfall
As bitter medicines uproot horror ills
So will it push me up
Making me too light to be submerged

Feeling is knowledge
And I need these graduations
So I will write all tests
I will rewrite
Until I pass
And move forward
As long as God leads
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Like the gates of life
The heaven are fully opened
Its crown solidly on its head
Its smile nicely in place
Its arms widely opened
It takes just love in spirit
To get one through

Like the paths of streams
The ears of heaven lie
Waiting to be reached no matter the obstacles
All they require is determination
And hardwork
No matter how long it takes to soak and break
Its patience knows no bounds

Like an unmeasurable hole of golf
The bossom of heaven awaits your hands
All it requires are observance and obedience
Nothing much

But the pathfinders hit the mountains
When the structures of the right path
Are clearly visible
To even blind followers either
Possesed by fear of castigation
Or blinded by the deception of human gods

It is a foul
When hands play football into goal posts
It is a foul
When rightful heirs are usurped
For their thrones
It is a foul
When riches consume poverty meals
It is a heaven opened for all
But eyes are now sitting buttocks
Ears now sleeping stomachs
As mouths metamorphose into kneeling stooges
Overturning the sun on its day
Leaving heaven west
As hell’s way is paved for all
Who are adorned in materialistic lovitude
Leaving few doubting
And fewer fighting
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


This place of yearning

Owns a churning

As rain seeps through the pores of the earth

And the earth cries in cracks for the thirst of it

So does the yearning begs attention


Withering prime!

Anxious crime!

The bells loudly chime!

Deeds deal not with dimes!

Hold me in your arms

Those strong arms

Pull me through my schedules

Though I am still in the cradle

Crying wolf where sheep play


I and I and I and I

Surround me in all I seek

When she, he, you and we

Is what aids and plaits and shades in trade

Mark my steps

Hold me firm

Make me a seer

When blindness eves

On this trip adorned with slips

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016