She says “shush”
…when her side swerves
…the best’s serve
And claims a marked miss
…after her heart sinks in defeat

He hisses a diss
…if his target bounces to another
…in an obvious miss
Eyes see the shudder
…but only an insensitive chameleon
…hits hard a hurt in loss

It is a murderous fountain
…of tears
…from soul to spirit and shielded body
…in a cycle of time’s bridal walk
…when you miss a hit
It is a painful spat of insults
…from a doomed hurt place
…like an unfair cane sore in a salty rain
…when you hit a miss

If you hunt a game
…and end with empty hands
…you surely pamper your ego
…with “stinky animal!”
But you know
…and I know
They know
…the burning po po po pos
…gunning your heart
…in echoes of disappointment
…shaming you in a merry go round
…of loss in a mourning cave
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 12, 2019


If I wanted your game
I would have more than that
…in less than the sweat of your hunt
If I wanted your game
…the game you so vilely parade
…trying so hard to cover the charade
…with my taunting,
I would never break so much as a sweat
…in fencing me with many
…better in parade
So hide your hideous finger
…wearing your tight finger cuffs

I know of your broken bed
…and your feelings’ death
I see the cracks on your mouth
…from the bad conversations gone south
I know the drought in your pocket
…because of the glutton in your socket
I know the fear in your heart
…because of the pressure from your prize
Interesting how great beads
…silently grace noble waists
…as those made by Chinese children in experimentation
…call even the dead
…to witness their walk taking
So be modest in flashing your finger cuffs

Like vultures without houses
…beaten by telling rains
Your problems are tattoed in your meanness
So cry out
…for once cry out and free your soul
…from the dark it hides
…pulling walls to shade the bright
…walls which annoy even angels sent to work solo
…on this twisted earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 9, 2019


…get green grass to graze
…to get grace in your growth
Be no bird bedder
…begging births to bird your goat

You’re a goat
…whose wishes and gloat
…won’t grow you wings
You might see no wisdom
…walking in this caution
But be sure not to act like the cat
…which got caught in a bird moment
…and jumped from a tall mountain
…as its company-bird flew
…forgetting it had no wings
…and water was an enemy to its ears
It still hurts remembering how the waiting water swallowed it up
What about the sheep which also jumped in same situation
…and got shredded by fingers of the earth?

If there are sane ships in your ears
…let them paddle on to the thinking town of your head
…to deliberate on self care
…and work on the importance of this advice
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 7, 2019


You’re now new
…selected from few
…enjoying your mew
…as you, others chew
Oh, Today’s-Hot-Cake, change your view
For every dawn comes with its dew

If you think I lie
…ask the seamstresses
…about the beautiful clothes they made
…for their classy clients
…a decade past
You’ll know, the best turned rags
…because love took their shine
…their colour
…their beauty
…through their duty

Even goats now step on them
…in careless bleats
…as the dumpster awaits their rot
The new and loved today
…also doomed in the tatter cycle
So go on and blah blah
…your needed for another’s hated
…your comfort for another’s troubles
Karma’s hammer is a perfectionist
…so flawless
…in its carpentry time
…it will perfectly nail you on the cross of loss
When your tatters finally chatter
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 6, 2019


… I was branded a seed destroyed
Because I clung onto the fearful bus
…of impossibilities
Look at me through the eyes of the wise
…who played my crazy card
…as I live within the biggest nation of impossibilities

I was constantly threatened by failure
…sometimes losing to its punches
…sometimes winning through its flares
…sometimes dodging through cracks of determination
Until I reached the shores of dawn
…of Impossibilities

I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…my light shining through the beauty of its shine
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…my visa, a praying need to many
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…shutting mouths who exchanged their teeth
…with ridicule
…to throw me off the will of moving on
I am now a citizen of impossibilities
…my building, a shining star
…guiding many a studious
…to get tickets in flight
…in my join

So take a pain to buy a gain
Carry a shame to be in the high game
…of great names
As an axe rests when the chimney fulls
…be a bull raving through fools
…to hammer enlightenment
…on heads of wet blankets
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 26, 2019


Sounds sent to my ears
…tell tales of towers trailing my tail
…and riches reaching my wretch
…how hearts heed to hovering whispers
…and plant need seeds begging for my watering
… Wo ti puu puu a
…wɔ bi di wai
…ebia na ɛyɛ obi koobi ase aprapra!

There are suns which shine in shock
…there are rains which fall as tears
…there are airs which blow in chases
The far sells many assumptions
…to the straining seer
Sister, please worry not your soul
…wo ti puu puu a
…wɔ bi di wai
…ebia na ɛyɛ obi koobi ase aprapra!

Some smiles hide many sorrows
…some laughter echo many aches
…some abilities fence many worries
Some shine act whines to build sleeplessness
…for the head
So brother,
…beat not your spirit
…wo ti puu puu a
…wɔ bi di wai
…ebia na ɛyɛ obi koobi ase aprapra mpanpan
…ɛna eeyi wo ahwiase ahi
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 14, 2019


I am stuck in this place
Where thoughts upon thoughts race
I am stuck between a lone journey and a choice
Each having its distinct voice

Where is the roaring readiness?
Where is the hopeful happiness?
Where is the fine fitting?
Why is societal sentimentalism
The only whipping whip?

Is it wenching wickedness to live hen
With no trailing chicks?
Is it wenching witchcraft to test and walk
On paths refreshingly new?
Have I not burned through enough to pass
This test of yours and be so free?
Can’t tiredness have a seat
At its baton exchange points?
Why is my head’s insistence hugging my heart’s resistance?

Why am I suddenly the competition on drafts of hunters
With or without a parody me?
Why are questions preceding all constructions
Where words continuously bake?
I didn’t cook me through all the trauma
To end up as a nail serving just any hammer?

Never say never is a bait no wordster falls for
The now stamps a no
And the no is all I know
Will help heal this hollow that show,
This hollow that show in my hurting soul
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 22, 2019


There is nothing wrong with a break
After a tsunamic life shake
After all, it takes time for scared fishes to travel through rivers
Back to their sea after explosive shivers
So you in the mirror, take time to cool off

Eyes close take time to open
After a whirlwind
As its dust takes time to settle
Even breathing still races at its pace before simmering in hearts
After a run
So you in the mirror, take time to cool off

Be in no hurry lorry to settle your painful storms
Sit in no worry to drain sad flooding in your overwhelmed heart
Be reasonable and wait for the heat to evaporate
From that heart boiled on fires of hurdles
For a human is a complex machine which needs time to cool off
After overworking its emotions
So panic not, do take your time
Enough time to cool off
You in the mirror
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 20, 2019.


Educate your root to groom its tree
For the tree will in turn groom its flowers
And the flowers will bloom fruits in the grooming

A strong foundation is the trusted seat
Of a good building
So dig well with best pickaxes
Clear well with best shovels
Mix well the foundational mortar
A good blend of cement of responsibility, sand of respect, stones of care and water of love

Many empty vessels roaming in the name of beings
Would have transformed better from their fragile spermatozoa
After meeting ovaries
If these basics were solidified
So groom well your roots
And be sure to strengthen your foundation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan 15, 2019


I am a witch!
Yes, a witch!
That witch who flies on the broom of hard work
Through canoes of the night
Paddling with rumours of the bored
On rivers of the covetous
Hoping to reach the sea of success
Without your sweats of bother
So hide not in calling

I am a witch!
Yes, a magnanimous witch!
That witch who attacks with claws of kindness
Heads filled with guns of hatred
In baffling shadows of keen watching sunlight
Excelling in hard tests in classes of unseen teachers
So fret not in my addressing

I am a witch!
A very shameless witch!
One who murders wickedness with vampire teeth
In beautiful hearts in surgery beds of hope
Dripping with blood of love to charm the indifferent
And singing devilish songs of praises at my soul winning abilities
Am I not a super witch?
So why hide in calling?

Call me in dignity and show your reverence!
Kneel in a call and bow in politeness!
Serve my every need and be my every feed!
You have made me superior to humans
And so I deserve the stool of your heads!
Lest I kill all who dishonour my super powers without mercy!
I did come well! Ɔ-baa-yie-foɔ!
So why shouldn’t I ride in my queenly palanquin while your eyes shiver?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 13, 2019


We have crossed the seas of wonderment
To the shores of no surprises
Overlooking waves of bizarre shocks whose lost electricity
Have turned bubbles, foaming tongues of the ever licking waters, flirting with sands
And succeeding only to open and close onlooking mouths
Without waking any sound from their belly beds

This is an era where relationship experts hide foot rots of hurts
In socks of personal relationships in shoes of secrecy
This is a realm where he is no barrier to a she and vice versa
This is an era where perfectly happy and parading teeth
Hide behind nosy tongues in a bite
Protected by aiding lips
All on heads made functionless by ropes in the agony of suicide
Leaving fanatics dry with unanswered “how comes?”

This is a realm where the robe of celebrity
Is painted with many surprising colours
The colour of vulgar fooling
The shade of horrendous stupidity
The brightness of tactless blabbering
The darkness of no decorum
The deepness of no respect
The chaos of picking on others
The annoyance of supporting the wrong
With pornographic embellishments on costly stages

This is the era
The era where scammers hold the keys to doors of academicians
The era where great musicians stand in shadows of noisemakers
The era where good hearts drown in oceans of artificial advertisements
On televisions of attention seeking
This is the era where all that abomination entailed have evaporated
Into the sky of fearlessness
Letting loose every darkness made to sleep in the deep caves of man
This is an era where children school their fathers
Scold their mothers
Beat their elder siblings to fan their egos
We are in an era where pride sits in falls
A realm where sinners preach to saints
Soon, sex will be determined after juvenility
And original bodies will merge with the made believe
Making it difficult to tell this from that
Policed by laws in gloves of rights to live without enquiry
Very soon, lenses of blindness will be the clearest goggles of safety
In this space called earth
Soon, very soon, that is, if the dawn of soon has not yet landed at our ports
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 9, 2018


The fingers of days have connived with that of months
Joined in by hours and minutes, seconds and nano-seconds
Crowned by years to selectively
Choose the best part of this heart
To dig foundations of pain
Building storeys of unforgettable loss through grave deprivation
But I tell you today
You will search from my hair to carpets of my soles
You will never find even the shadow of my pride!

Yes, you can harvest tears from me!
Yes, you can milk fears from my guts!
Yes, you can break my joints to make me kneel
But I say and say again
You will never find even the shadow of my pride!

The celebratory thing to me
And annoying thing to you
Is the fact that it hides not!
It parades and catwalks
Shoos and orders
Stands regally saucily
But you can find not its shadow
Talk less of touch the helm of its determined apparel!

So go on and bring it on!
I won’t ask for mercy and won’t ask for stoppage!
I won’t wear a pity
And won’t scent tiredness!
I know you have no ears
But I still have my breath
So fire your uncountable bullets of hurty challenges
Through the gun of life
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Dec. 29, 2018


Gates of life are on shes
Hammers for carving those gates are on hes
Another fact!
But birth births death
And hides in sicknesses
Old age
Always conniving with time
To blow forgetfulness
On its mischievous handiwork
How cunning!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Dec. 26, 2018


An angered in a fear
A hurt in a tear
A love in a shyness
Hatred in loving
All throwing tantrums bodies can’t bear to show
So model what suits
We are many in one
Acting ourselves within
Chasing models without

If our feelings will show
Like movies through our countenance
It will be a world where one watches another for eternity
We are many in one
Acting ourselves within
Chasing models without

If we can take off our clothes of fear
If we can take off our clothes of shyness
If only we can drown impressions in rivers of bravery
Many an unwanted plays of hypocrisy
Will die in the soil of conception
Why are we many in one
Acting ourselves within
Chasing models without?

Prisoners in small cages created by societal norms!
Prisoners made to love their cages enough to kill the free!
Prisoners ready to bury their bones in protection of their chains!
Prisoners sadly happy to call bile honey!
Listen to the buried voice that shakes the grounds of your consciences!
Life should be more
Way more than this
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©September 2018


In this nest called earth
Minds differ in colour of thinking
As others sit to pray, plan and stand to tan
Under the tough skies of hard work
Some weave their traps like spiders
To get hold of some hunting flies
Others look for pliers to take out the knots on others barrows
Okukuseku! Nnipa ho yɛ hu sene apataku

Why do visions differ?
Legs seeking impact have hands seeking their fall
Eyes watching out for others
Have minds selling them blindness
Hearts rooting for peace
Have heads building chaos in their pumps
Ears listening for progress
Have teeth clattering to disturb
Hands hoping to work have mouths selling them as plagues
Okukuseku! Nnipa ho yɛ hu sene apataku!

It’s amazing why the sound of ghosts
From the voice of our own puts our muscles in flight!
Funny how fear of the unknown sets fires of panic in our veins
When the known are its architect!
We yearn to to-to-to and ta-ta-ta
On the burning fires of our hypocrisy
Okukuseku ei! Nnipa ho yɛ hu sene apataku!!!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © September 1, 2018


In this myth we live
No matter who conceived
All that we believe
Is the magic of breath

It lights the eyes
So let them look
It opens the ears
So let them listen
It opens your mouth
So let it say
All that it needs to say

It powers the heart
So let it beat
It fixes your stomach
So let it work
It strengthens your hands
So let them work
It powers your legs so let them move
To everywhere they need to be

It opens the mind
So let it think
It channels the nose
So let it smell
It awakens the skin
So let it feel
All that it needs to feel
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 12, 2018


Now the day is awake
The sky is serving light
All that hands will take
Will base on a heart so bright

I hope that for life’s sake
We work with all our might
Like bread in an oven bake
Our ends will shine so bright

We have to burdens shake
And face our fearsome fright
And dodge all that is fake
To climb all best’s height
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 6, 2018


If passion’s flicker did take liquor
And whispered these many trials

That hang on every life’s tree

To flower into fruition

To be plucked or pecked, fall or rot

Only to reach a cut, break or an uproot

Many swim fighters might have failed in competition



Yet a real excitement

Like curiosity, hanging it’s neck

In the window of my unformed heart

Might have still pushed me here

Into the belly of this earth

Where many paths lead to the same dark spot

But transient hearts battle in disharmony

Using their mortality as spears, guns, machetes and cancerous words

Only to stand possessed with fear

When their last bells call

What is man in this crooked spot of living?


Man is a mind of secrecy

Ailing or jubilating for the past

Scheming in the present

Without knowing the future

Man is like a programmed robot

Whose lifespan is known to its creator

But hidden from him

Yet he plans every minute as if he is in charge of him

Man is like a blind god’s house

To be used and discarded in a time and place

Yet man lives like God 

With thoughts of who to lead and impress

Even when living plays itself in a sleep world

Oh! Fading dusts battling hardened rocks!

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © February 20, 2018


A flower of smiles

In a hand so warm

A massaging sun waving from miles

In a sky of no harm

Greets your morning from the land of my mind


The land of my mind

In which I farm happiness in weeds of strife

Throwing stumps and thorns into dungeons of past’s behind

Carving a great team to play the team of life

So create a smile without a sigh


A smile with no sigh

Even if clouds blanket the waving sun

Knowing transiency is its bothersome hi

And impotency carves its tempt like fun

In a garden of your sweet scented presence

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Feb. 8, 2018


On this dead branch

Carried by water, I thread

Each step, a shocking surprise

Interlaced with fear

But like a blessed cat with nine lives

The soul carries this body in moving on


My only cocoon is you

This poem, where my bed of peace is laid

My only home is you

This poem, where my cool waters pamper for a swim

My only shade is you

This poem, which arrests the murderous sun

And serves a breathing seat amidst all the dying

My only shelter is you

This poem, in the midst of perilous snakes

Which hide in trousers of life to defile my happiness

My only saviour is you

This poem, which baptizes to cleanse my soul

From the daily dirty stones pelted by life’s criminal side

My only hope is you

This poem, you, a perfect diary keeping my mind in

In you


I am so far from home

Carrying a load which directs my path

Directing dusty even when tarred roads beg for a drive

Yet I live in you, this poem

You who promise to take me back

Back to the perfect place I belong

That perfect place, where moths can’t pimp me

For the pleasure of the earth

Masking my life into a walking ghostship

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 29, 2018


A star that annoyingly glitters

With just a 26 alphabetical order

One whose words are like blows

One whose words are like lightning

Striking bad clouds and digging goosebumps

One whose words can draw beauty in minds

One who has arrived in many towns of the nation

And continues to charm

That may be the words on your mind

But what about those you don’t see?


A skeletal build

With veins of neglect

Blood of stress and thirst

Meat of hate and pure hunger

Skin of punches of cold in a harmattan visit 

And bowl of heat in sunny days

Nails which have tasted the hammer of many quarries

Eyes which have joined the run against death

Legs which have collapsed and been whipped by need to a wake

Why do I see them so well?


In every glitter lies a story

A story that can reflexively call for your sorry

And may even unchain your worry

To get on your sympathy lorry

So clap not in jealousy

Bite no tongue in a revenge challenge

Think of the worry within the glitter

And applaud its shine

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan 27, 2018


There is an insect town

On this beautiful living lawn

But all passersby see

Is the beautiful grass and its fee

Yet night planes their insecti-flight

And day takes them from sight

It is like sweat in a fluffy wool

Or vampire ants in a crown stool


What is seen may not be

Once roots are brought to be washed on the head of a plain sea

In the ground many bites abound

On land much pretense surrounds

Even though our hearts know in capital letters

We wear our hypocritical matters

Acting in dancing even when we’re being bitten like sweat in a fluffy wool

Or vampire ants in a crown stool


My teeth line up

Even when my voice shuts up

When I see eyes turn red

In a covetousness hidden in singing and begging to be heard

What can a hiding ant say

In a convention of hunting lizards on a pay?

Human bodies is mostly like sweat in a fluffy wool

Or vampire ants in a crown stool

Shinning royalty, feeling pains

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © Jan. 4, 2018


Many a steps are forced by need

Many a man’s need suffereth from greed

One’s seen need is another’s goldmine

I am that hen

Looking for the feet of the mythical hawk

Stepping on the wellbeing of my chick


All many eyes see

Is the flower with different colours

Standing tall in the wind

Blown here and there

And still stands unshaken in the calm

But if pillows could talk

They will tell secret tales of hurdles

Which suck sleep from the honey bed

I am that hen

Who has escaped many a cruel machete

From the hands of greedy celebrants

Using the helplessness of my hen

In the abattoir of healers


I have danced naked on many a hopeful ground

Shown my weaknesses which grows with days

Paid have-nots with money of my blood

Fed on biles of failure and disappointment

And felt my intestines beg a tear closure

I am that hen

Whose soft end sits in its innocent chick

Imprisoned in the cage of a disorder

One that brings me silly orders


But I go on

Jumping from here to there

Hoping a good wind will send me THERE

THERE, where redemption sits in the mass of deceit

To free mine from the shells of life’s unfortunacy

I am that hen

Hopeful with every new day

No matter the deadly punches of their previous

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © December 10, 2017


There are many roots beneath a single tree

Yet it needs many others to break winds

There are many brooms running and breaking free

But their strength in numbers, all fear rescinds


Sometimes, even fecal worms, do space need

Sometimes, even water, do drops be

But a sea stands  more chance of waving at a shore

Than a drop of water


I need you

Like I need this breath in its running seconds

I need him

Like I need this body in every moment

I need her

Like I need this heart in its working beats

I need them

Like I need this earth in every  living sphere

I need us

As yam plants need their mounds


In the garnishing of age

On this queer me

This memory needs no sage

To know that wrinkles are sensitive to loneliness

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©September 7, 2017


Many voices
Roar in this fiery sea

Voices of rivers 

Whose feet have tasted different sands

Voices of rains 

Whose bodies have tasted higher heavens

Bodies of fluids

Whose noses have smelt rotten foods

Vomited by covered human gutters

Bodies of sweats 

Which have explored varied pores

Each lamenting like lost pilgrims

In the end a blend in chorus

Disturbing or angelic, they live as one

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 24/07/2017


When songs of nightingales
Hit blocked drums of infatuated cocks
They cry loss but look hardest
Cursing the hearing maker

When the ‘borla’ bird
Dreams of cuddling a peacock
It shivers at peck-like-axing
One that can give away its intestines
In a split second

Every struggling soul
Like a beheaded fowl
Kicks and fights to retain breath
Funny how something unseen but everywhere
Serves to suffocate then strangle
Anywhere, everywhere
With tickets on every head
Causing fear and panic

Many run from their bonded shadows
Loving the dark which swallow the shadows up
Hating sunshine which shows them
Exactly where to spot them

There will always be elephants struggling to be ants
And there will always be ants praying to be elephants
There will always be eagles praying to be guinea fowls
And vice versa
If truth could lead us
Life would be spent before being bought
And regret could be shelved till our dusts settle
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) March 16, 2017


I always aimed to be a potted flower
I envied their supplies
From waters carried by muscles
To the manure bought to feed
Talk less of their pampering of shades and aids
And their protection and attention

They were like the dream
Which emptied me from their cans of dark bliss
Onto scolding thorns with sharp blades
Were their possessions curses?
Were their bliss phantoms?
Were their feeds poisoned with complacency and failures?

How far has time travelled
To have my envy burned into pity?
How much has the world changed
To have a flower in the wild
Live to the chorus of ovation
While potted flowers sqirm on bended knees?
How strong were their benefactors
To have their fates destroyed by perfect handling?
Why do I bless the bird who spat me
Into the thorny desert
While they curse those who pampered them on beds?

Life is two way microscope
Watchers turn watched in split breaths
Funny how heroes turn villains
And are thrown out of their star parade
Forget-me-nots must thread cautiously
On bruised weeds
For time may plant its flowers between them
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) February 24, 2017


If I build a house
I won’t house a mouse
Mice which crawl in clothes of darkness
To eat my rice
Rolling my dice
And putting my eyes in a quandary of lies
Are nothing nice

Roasting on ghost nets
After walking on the finest clouds
Being toasted on fear fires
Like a lost “akrantie” whose fate
Marked a reflection of jubilation for its predators
While its lost family search in mourning
Is nothing nice
I won’t house a mouse in my house
No matter the space

I would rather house a lion
Whose heat iron my pores
Causing sores and rivers of blood stained sweat
For in every scratch
I will a plan hatch
In every fear
I will dig a hole to be whole
In every barred fangs
I will be tutored by pangs
I will never house a mouse in my house
Those creepy leepy peeps
Who blow the eyes to rest only to loot
Aren’t ones to skip my gun
So search to scrap your inner mouse
Before stepping into my house
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) February 20, 2017


The sky sees many monarchs
Those whose sadness floods the earth
Giving life to most and taking some
Those whose happiness burns the earth
Warming most, drying fractions and killing some
Those whose air barber trees
Burning weeds
And aiding and abetting fires
The sky really sees many monarchs

Amazing how all weathers have their favourites
Honouring some
Demoting some
And killing some
Life’s changes favour all
But under the right weather
Being carted by time
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) January 22, 2017


I was born with nothing
No fangs
No claws
To talk of clothes and rings and slings to cling
Look at me now
Looking at these crossroads

I was born like mixed flour
So light
Does the sun boil me like heat
Which fans the buttocks of pots
As air stirs my content to grow thick like banku?
What do I do with these crossroads?

I am like a thirsty owl
I hoot as nature wrote
But other living things call it witchcraft
My eyes; calling for bullets of brave spirits
When all I need, is not greed but nights to feed
What am I on these crossroads?

I have to choose a side
From the loins which pieced my halves
To the groups bonded by blood
To factions at each other’s throats
To beliefs!
Beliefs thought, fantasized, felt into believing
Geographical roars unmentioned
How many breakages does my heart need to have
On these crossroads?

Every moment is a choice
Every thought holds a voice
Every step makes its noise
Who am I?
Who at all am I?
What added soil to a soul in blended stones and claws?
Who mixed need and greed to feed on our breed?
Who am I?
Who are you?
Who are we?
Are we worth this struggle?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Jan. 8, 2017


We remember the claws of yesterday
After feeling the smooching of palms today
A new dawn easily sheds its night
And falls into nothingness
If it records no history
And acts like a boring copycat
Yes, believe it or not
History has teeth which bite through memories

Whichever crown graces your head
On the ticket of teeth with graceful smiles
Know the mind can easily alterate mouth
To hide smiles under cloths of bitterness
So remember to tread cautiously
Holding dear hands which pushed your rear
Regarding bards who now sing your fair
And blessing fools who clean your smear
Forgetting not hands which fan your heat
Happiness needs no bureaucratic ticket
To a miserable future

We are who we are
Flowing minds into muddy legs
Into thrown rocks
Into immovable mountains
With corners and caves hiding fears untold
You disregard your ladder through comfortability
At your own peril
Especially in these times when royalty is a shadow in ceremonial cloths
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 17th Dec. 2016.


I sit in comfort on my bed
With head carrying fires of hell
What could I possibly be to you?
A fling in a sling on a swing?

I think with my heart
Which beats like bass in a loose speaker
I hurt like a bird with broken wings
I can fly to no tree
I fear to walk,
Lest a hungry hunter of loneliness swallows
All this while a voice keeps asking within
What am I to you?
A fling on a sling in a swing?

Fragile hearts need no hard enclaves
Fragile souls, need no shadows
Which connive with darkness of commitment
To leave them stranded
When monsters of uncertainties chase
I am a lost child in a lonely old body
My tantrums being my walls
Walls you have broken
But what am I to you?
A fling in a sling on a swing?

Love me some
Or leave me crudely
Living in the middle is living like a goat
Strapped to a tree on a great occasion
Whatever my fate, sinks my soul in seconds
What at all am I to you?
A fling in a sling on a swing?
Poor little me!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Nov. 29, 2016


I have felt the sting of mosquitoes
Felt the bites of ants
Felt the bites of snakes
Felt the claws of eagles
And stand with huge unseen scars

I have felt the slaps of crows
Pecks of wood peckers
Hooting of owls
Reminding crows of taunting cocks
About the speed of time
And still stand scarred and haunted by ghosts of fears

I have been
Deafened by roars from bellies of monsters
Weighed off confidence by beautiful peacocks
Flaunting colourful feathers
Which magnetize all eyes
Making me an extra unused
On this stage field
I can’t tell my image from within
Internal mirrors show a rearing monster

What is this ink of life?
Why do many write to cancel others
Forgetting cancellation is also a loss?
What is this lavender of life
Which everyone possess
Spraying to be sprayed on
Battle of scents
Where the strongest survive to repel?

I need a pet friend
One who will pamper and care
Follow and hunt
With love in eyes only meant for me
I need a faithful soul
Loyal with aura
To dig out fangs
To smoothen the scars
To massage all loss
I know God is on board
But a worldly friend with visibility and a touchable presence
A friend like a dog
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


A decade ago
I was a decade less from three
My leaves as fresh as the morning dew
My stem as strong as the odum tree
My roots as firm as the nim tree
But here I wilt
Into the dungeons of death

My voice was as sharp as the sharpest sword
Cutting down all annoying word beings
Defending my beloved like a knight
Why does frailty lay claim
In the veins which then reigned?
Why am I being pushed
Into the dungeons of death?

Every day fetches from the calabash
Of my strength
Every day cuts a chord from my brights
The world becomes darker and darker
Time pushing me tock after tock
Into the dungeons of death

I now see clearly
What experience
With the aid of blinding brightness
Hid and still hides
From the strong, young and vibrant
The wisdom of a clearer vision
Now the flies of regret buzz
As vultures await my safe arrival
Into the dungeons of death

How I wish I could make them see
Their eventual fee
When they get to my place be
As the ropes of time them pull
Into the dungeons of death
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


He who threads on the insurer’s path
Sees the ghosts of profits
In the clutch of misfortunes
And wears a protection charm
Always praying or exorcicing

He who threads on the path of danger
Plays with anger
Making happiness a stranger
One to be toyed and slaughtered
Even under the umbrella of blessings

Fingers of darkness
Grant all the invisible-wish
Night by night
Like gifts on golden platters
But how many see?

Light catches us in cliches
In centres of stages in mock smocks
As time ticks and tocks
While stating the fact that it rocks
Without caring about the praises of cocks
At its speeds flock and stocks

Vanishings eat our fleshes
Like stingy cats on scarce meat
In famine
Drawing no attention until
Their forks reach our docks
Making “had I known”
The most spoken phrases
In unclassable mouths
How cruel the world stands!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 31st July, 2016


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


There are those who fear beings
In colours different than theirs
As mice fear cats
There are those who fear corpses
Knowing it is a state unskippable
As what the air receives without balance falls
But there are those who bath corpses
Thinking them mud

There are those who fear ghosts
As rats fear fire
And there are those who call ghosts
Thinking them saints in taints
There are those who wish to be ghosts
Loving vanishings, hoping omnipotence
And there are ghosts who wish for humanity
Dreaming of bodies, hoping for pleasures
Every calculation
Like every wind lifting sand
Has miscalculations
The earth is a bridge
Humans and norms;
Rivers under its bridge
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Life is no race
So go at your own pace
What do you chase
What you in time face
All you have to embrace
Is with none laced
So move by grace
At your own pace
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016



May I ask which cage keeps you?
I know the earth is a cage
And opens only when death enters its need coins
But which internal cage keeps you?

Some are caged by selfishness
With metal bars of needing all
When they can barely carry few
Like ants carrying huge leaves
Forgetting their tiny home houses
So suffer under locks of hatred

Some are caged by rudeness
Under the strong bars of pride
Like horror prisoners mixed with normal ones
Forgetting none is above the other
In wombs and tombs
So are locked by self superior padlocks

Some are caged by body pleasures
With grave bars of fantasies
Like dogs on heat on aphrodisiac
Forgetting life is a blend
So stay locked by fear of loneliness

Some are caged by their horrid past
Under unbreakable bars of pain
Their minds locked in “why mes?”
Like scarecrows in failed farms
Sacking only birds of fertility and success
So stay locked under melancholic padlocks

Some are caged by holiness
Under the strange bars of pleasing God
When their fellow men find them unbearable
Like Satan sending humans
To hell with their every deed
Forgetting life was meant to be lived
The creator Himself loving exploration
So they stay locked
Under the huge padlocks of fear of sin

Some are locked by their dreams
In very strong bars of fear of failure
Like a one leg man climbing a tall ladder
Forgetting no dream achieved
Enters the doors of death
They stay locked under padlocks of stiffness

What is your cage?
Whatever it may be
When balanced in wisdom and common sense
Brings freedom
Break your cage
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


Clouds form to give life to rain
Rivers flow to give strength to seas
Plants grow to feed, heal or kill
But beings grow into the earth
We know not the colour of ghosts
Like meteorologists and their audience
Some predict
Some believe
Some sit on fences to just watch
We, these sad girls
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


A smiling sword mostly
Holds bitter bitterness
Which develops sharp edges in the dark
To take hearts from its enclavic back
Hearts which warms up to them

Match eyes with mouths
Ears with hands
Shadows with backturns
Scribbling and dribbling not neighbours
The mind lives on the storey building
The legs being its palanquin
A word to the wise
Stays north
Watching your choice
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


When my heaven in daylight turns to hell
Calling to keep a countenance none can tell
I always yearn to recoil into my shell
Like a tortoise in danger smell

Oh how I wish there was a bell
To help me skip any problem cell
So none can say “she fell”
And carry me on a gossip pan to sell

When will my waters find my well
And quench this thirsts that hungrily yell
Squeezed by hell which does compel
To my pain and frustration excel
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


What do you see?
Birds in flight with different wings?
Different sizes of animals
On all fours living as they please?
Those struggling on twos
And those sailing with wings?
Rivers screaming for seas?
Clouds clutching on skies?
Airs roaming Invisibly aimlessly
Touching with no fingerprints?
Look hard
Tell what you see
Think the tell
Analyze the think
And know you are just one
One of the many things
Rolling in this ball called earth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


What is the difference between much and none?
In the much
How is the rush?
In the none
How is the crash?

Many are the laughters of the much
Like sugar and ants
Many are the odours of the none
Like a dead being rotting in leaves

Eyes in goggles of deceit
Break their glasses to stand naked
In triump of chaos
Not like a secret agent revealed
But like a wicked demon unleashed
The laughter, haunting
The blows, unhealable

Know the eyes for the none
To share in your much
Experience is the worst teacher ever
Its punishments, regrets and hurts
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016


The womb of the earth
Births them all

Why would one womb
Birth them all with such variations and roles?
Do flowers love being flowers?
Trees being trees?
Crops being crops?
Weeds being weeds?
Herbs being herbs?

Flowers complain of being used
Their beauty for pleasure
Their nectar untreasured
Beaks from all ends
Drinking like free wine
Dangers from all corners
Threatening like tsunamis
While they are created precious and mostly fragile
Even those with soldier thorns
Facing all dangers
Do they envy trees?

Trees complain of growing in hardships
Facing all
Even those who grow
To birth beauteous flowers
Feel the peckings
And the swords of the winds
They birth in seasons
To lose without reasons
With vampires of leaves, barks and fruits
And besides being homes fit for flying faeces
Axes and dormas call
To slash them dead
Their corpes for carrying from buttocks to stinking corpses
Do they then envy crops?

Crops also complain bitterly
How can they be so nicely parceled
And have so many hunters?
Hunters who bite, chew and swallow their bodies
After seeing to their hellish transition
What irks them most
Is their end in view
Flies settle to sing in disgust
But swallow their rejecting remains
Those who make them into outcasts
Never wanting their second looks
Do they then envy herbs?

Herbs complain
Of battling scaries
Why will their paths be filled with battles of sicknesses
When there are plants
Which enjoy it all?
Air, sun, rain and life
But are hailed in beauty
Hailed in strength
Hailed to sit free
And fall to die?
Do they hate them all including weeds?

Weeds also complain a lot
Why do they grow with others
And are mostly murdered before their time?
They tend to be stronger
But less respected
Might even be more attractive
But abandoned and disgraced
When at all
Will they be respected like herbs, flowers, trees and all?
The world is a misery
No state has no change wishers
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016