THE SLAPPED CUCKOLD

A cuckold couldn’t hold –
…on to his wife
And couldn’t be bold
…so hated his life

II
He laid a trap
…to bait her lover
But got a slap
…which made him see clearer

III
He was like a lost puppet
…on a dangerous ground
And became a vacant socket
…who no mercy found

IV
Then he saw it
…the intense thrill of their act
And knew it
…his failing fact

V
Stand to take
…all fours down
Side in take
…upside down
Locked to take
…slap the town
Then shyly became the clown
Always hail-Marying
…with his short chop stick

VI
His gross green teeth
…and dirt filled feet
His old worn clothes
…and stinking armpits
Reduced him to a maggot
…in the centre of his mind
And so it happened
…that he took a run
…in self banishment
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 23, 2019

FUSE ON A CON

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

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

III
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?

IV
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?

V
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

THE LIFECYCLE OF LOVE

Love is like a seed
…in an unknown soil
Whether it’ll germinate or not
…after planting an interest
…is like the hawk of death
…and its hunting human fowl

II
A heart undergoes the process of oneness
…just as the seed battles its new soil
…in hope of birthing a new shoot
There can be seed hunters
…in the passions of the soil
Maggots and moths of pessimism
…fighting life of optimism
Until a shoot vanishes or sees its new world

III
Suns of care
Airs of tenderness
Rains of feelings
And the dews of determination
…form the formula of love’s living
Even so
…goats of over-jealousy can crush in a step
…storms of mistrust can crudely cut with secateurs
…fiery winds of miscommunication can drain its working blood
…floods of incompatibility can destroy its fragile frame
…pests of unfaithfulness can murder its blossoming
Bushfires of misunderstanding can burn its promising form
Many other dangers abound
So you need a fence of dedication

IV
Yes, a fence of dedication,
For it takes the skilled to farm it
…foundationing with patience
…watering with loyalty
…uprooting weeds with forgiveness
…and fertilizing with faith
Even after fruition,
…through flutters
…with widths of smiles
…to heights of laughter
…in a companionable growth
There are weavils of confusion
…and their attending others
…who can cause rot before old age harvesting

V
Ye budding farmers need these brown experiences
As farm implements in preparation
…for the field of love
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 21, 2019 (Title by Gloria Afua Ofeibea Addo)

GUILT ATTACKS

I know,
…you know
…that I know your blow
Which is seeking the dark, to get me, your ‘foe’
…to make me kowtow
So –
…my magnanimous bow
…scares when your closed eyelids go
…to sleepland, in many an avenging arrow throw
But what do I do? Your target line toe?

II
I neither bought for you my hate
…nor its tiring sighs
I didn’t tutor you to bait –
…me, for my living bye
I neither created your hurting state
…nor forced your peace in a bye
I did not raise your conscience to rate
…you, in your plotting fies
So blame your scheming fate

III
None works in another’s hate
And reaps an applauding success
None spies on another’s life
And gets self development’s access
No cat calls for a lion battle
…and gets a peaceful recess
The loving hobbies
…which full my heart
…are what I feed on
And I so wish I mirror as your warrior –
…or your competition positively strong
I so wish I weed your monstrous horrors
…of impossibility’s desert
…to chart a path
…a path for you
…and only you
So fulfilment
…will rain to quench the heat of your bitterness
Instead of scripting my constant fantasy fall
…in your mental stage plays
For now
…I will stay gracious
…through all your contumeliousness
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 19, 2019

REAL PATRIOTS

Let them come and sow
…protected by their arrows in bows
Let them call us foes
…punching with their mental blows
Let them finish and go
…calling all to behold in lo
Let them laugh as we tirelessly mow
…and puff to our succeding’s no

II
Let them shoot their pricking pos
…until their hands strength slow
Let them see us seriously flow
…into development’s glow
Let them ridicule our yawning hoes
…and bet on our wailing woes
All we need is our patriocy
…in their cruel bangarang

III
Who said our sweats
…will always sieve into their service?
Who decreed our determined dears
…will always dread their dares?
Who preaches pestering panics
…of their prepared paws?
Who beats our blessful bests
…to bear their buttocking for brays?
We fear no foe fishing for our fouls
…and fear no fall fussing for our famishing
Aren’t we led by a star so black
…to see paths in the dark dark sky?

IV
So ride in the raving rough
…and trouble to be trustingly tough
Oh forget the crossing coughs
…and hush your hating hawks
We see the mountains of moaning
…mourning many our merry mornings
We hear the chirping chastisements
…chasing our chanting chores
We feel our fallen fellows
…forcing in their feeble forms
We will surely succeed
…to see our sun serening
Keep on keeping on is a cliché clutching our diction
But we should gladly guard its fine action
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 19, 2019

TERROR FEASTERS

There is a change seeping into the land
Strange change that promises to derange
…even from a range,
…it sips from the cup of hope
…and trips our peace on a dangerous slope
Ah!

II

It started like a bad dream, now it burns like overheated fire…
Take us off the fires of fear
…simmering on soaring senses:
– kidnappers killing the unwilling
– terrorists blowing trespassing tremors of horror
…hooligans housing hampering-tampers
It is like a daunting shadow
…drawing nearer and nearer

III
We lived in a peaceful pen
But you sold our safety to sellers
…trading point-and-kills
Will the hunters shoot only in the forest
When power is like a potent alcohol
…creating drunkards out of gents?
You knew the hidden catastrophe
Yet thought only of your growing bellies!

III
You know of the bribery beasts
…who guard our customs gates
Yet sit like flatulating elders
…in the midst of their aggrieved youngsters
…blame-shifting in the suffering and suffocating air
Chai!

IV
As concerned ears hop from
…outdated mouths to mandated mouths
You continue finger pointing
…when deck calls hands to work!
Continue creating confusions
…sitting and staring
…dressing and daring
In a Kojo-Who-Did-This taunts!
…It-Is-Kwame will turn solutions through the bouncing It-Is-Kojo
…to protect our future!

V
Fanning fears will turn fires
…burning off our nearing enemies
Just let the radios chirp like blessed birds
…the papers paint like well pressed pets
…the internet hawk like beautiful ladies carrying shinny pans in selling
…hosting you with your flawless grammar
…like parrots in their comfort cages
Let’s hope your words turn hammers to
…scare off the scares
…which loom!

VI
You kwabrɛfrɛs –
…mistaken for Odums
…and pushed to stand to shield us
…from the whirlwinds of slavery
Should act vultures
…standing on the trees of our trust
Waiting for our lives to fall
…so you can swoop for our rotten fleshes!!!
But know –
…It is one body hosting us all
…from those on the head
…to those on the feet
Think of the spared
…should that one body fall!!!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 18, 2019

UNSEEN TEARS

Frights
…hiding in furs of goats
…are seen as follies
…even in their fearsome jumps

II
Wounds
…itching in wombs
…are felt by none but the in-hidden-hawker
…no matter how much they bleed

III
There is a world within this world
Which knows what you carry
And feels how you try
A world within this world
…which shares in your chasings
So giving up, should be a weed
…in your flowering determination

IV
When tears full
…shed them to be light
When fears full
…share them to be free
When hatred heaps
…hum a tune
…you’re neither alone nor odd
…not the first or last
…to feel the poisonous fumes of life

V
It is okay to feel
…like giving up to heal
It is okay to hate
…like setting up a bait
It is okay to hide
…like fearing human ride
It is okay to be lonely
…like walking the world a solely
It is okay to shout out
…to let hidden emotions out
It is okay to fail
…to add to the growing trail
You’re as important as you think
So get a calming drink
And hold on to life
No matter the many strife
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 17, 2019

MRS WITHOUT KISSES

Mrs without kisses
Finger ring in a fury ring
Trusted bird
…on a thorny bed
Boss lady
…on a bruised loving
You say wetin?

II
You can wear smiles of satisfaction all day long
Writing the happiness which you belong
Annoying all in your jealousy gong
You think that would make you –
…look strong?

III
Every effort you make
To make all see your happy living
I see the begging to take –
…misery hidden
There is a thing about the fake
…that never hides in its living
Always swimming out of its many a deceptive lake

IV
So go on and build your mountains
…out of some ant’s eroded anthill
Just as fire hides not in the dark
…we will see the flaming flames –
…sɛ ɛgye gon a!
Pregnancy –
…can hide itself only well at its beginning
Continue shielding your belly to your month of six
We are all here
…and will see the protrusion
…when your bearability begs to bed
So go on in your embellished fantasy
Ɛbon bon bon a, yɛ bɛ ti ne kankan wai
You Mrs missing kisses –
…painting bliss to diss and piss off spinsters
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 15, 2019

MANTSƐ EBA!

Pastor Dédé worked all week and Friday nights
With all his equipping might
Electrocuting others with his noisy frights
Threatening complainers of his God’s bite
Afraid,
…every mouth closed its door
…after his warnings

II
Then Nii-mei and Naa-mei put their ban on noising
Pastor Dédé puffed and registered his shunning
That night, he started with vigour
…his people sang
“Unto the Lord be the glory…eee
Great things he has done…”
The drums held hands of the voice of the guitar
…and chorused their murdering tones
…registering the abled abatie roboting them
The piano hugged both
…as the akasɛi chan chaned like piercing pins
…to add to the murder of ears
None had a sound in mouth
…after his warnings

III
Then they came
…wearing shoes deaf in sounds
Six strong muscled men
…with unbending discipline
They knocked once at the hellish heaven’s door
…then twice
…and entered
All tired eyes left their abused ears to watch
Then we heard –
…konklonkon!
…kankanklan!
…pasca pram pram pram pran!
And ears were taken off the fires of noise –
…abruptly

IV
The “How dare you
…was punched with “Kwɛ mɛnɛ hu!”
“God will not forgive you” –
… “eenhwɛ kɛkɛ, nyɛkɛwo tsɔneɛ mli ne wɔya”
We watched
…hoping to see the unforgiving God of Dédé
…whose threats sat on our freedom
…to the point of deafness
Even his broken fingernails did not fall
…till date

V
And so it happened
…that the noise traveled,
…we were told, to return in a month
Strengthened muscles prepared a ring
…to box its return to its death
…and succeeded
That ended the tale
…of Pastor Dédé and his dédé
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 14, 2019

IMBALANCE

Roaring roses!
Barking bosses!
Placating pines!
Swiping swines!
Weird wires

…worsening wars

II
Fine wines line not in dine
Bay hay gay not in fire rays
Desires are not sure acquires in liars
Fix consciences, as mechanics, to fit justices

II
For we are passing
Not just sitting in staying
We are shedding
Not just static in adding
So balance the imbalance
To enhance the chance of or near equality
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 13, 2019

LIFE GIVERS

Mothers –
…ministerial makers
…nature’s natural nurturers
…open-armed oracles
…psyched psychologists plannedly prepared
…quintessential queens
…rough risks remediers
…serene sirens
Honourables of hearts!

II
Mothers –
…trouble truncators
…umpires of under-weathers
…vines of victory
…wondrous wayfarers
…xylophonic-voices with xray-eyes
Temples!

III
Mothers –
…bridging bars-
…of livers and leavers
Caring castles –
…daring daffodils
…exciting edificial empires
…fearless farmers
…gutsy greatnessors
…humanity highlanders
…interrogative intelligentsias
Angels!

IV
Mothers –
…spiritual shelters
…joyous justices
…kazooing kayaks in our kerfuffles
…loving labiataes
…mesmerizing messengers
…nursing noses
Warriors!

V
You will always be our first touch of love!
You will always be in our heartbeats!
You will always be our worshiping temples!
For you helped –
…to cook us
And kept us to live
You helped –
…to grow us
And help us to glow
Love is your fountain –
…and we will forever be your tendering architects
O you souls in our creating wholes!!!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 12, 2019

WRITERS = DOCTORS

Writers are like doctors
Delicate in their line of duty
A little inky mistake can break souls
Destroy personalities and
Unleash wars fiercer than lions on nations

II
Writers are like operating doctors
Just a failed full stop can send many wise heads
In a needless chase of sleeplessness
Running after ghosts non-existent

III
Writers, like doctors
Need no harsh words before working
A tampered emotion can lead
To countless erosions of truth
Planting deceptions in minds

IV
Writers like doctors need balance
A 360° mirror on all issues
To build facts in perfect frames
No docking for thrusts of favouritisms

V
There can be exceptions and oddities
Escapements, counting human fallibilities
But writers like doctors, need care
Care and caring to be fair
At all times
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 11 2019

THE LOVE SCENE

A lion –
…leapingly lusting
A hyena –
…hysterically harping
Leaves –
…lurkingly listening
Air –
…airingly arousing
The moon –
…markingly mooching
Fireflies –
…flatteringly flipping
…through light and darkness
We –
…wettingly whetting workings
…willingly whisper whistling
…wispingly whipping wishes
…and merging

II
Cotton –
…cursing our cravings
Roses –
…rising rousingly in reaping
Passions –
…pointing at perverts peeking
Snakes –
…seeking services structured
Like leaking loops,
Turning –
…touching, tracking, tapping
…trekking, taking, teasing
In blissing

III
Hunting hisses
…heckle not heeding
Bottled breaths
…break blessingly to be
Dirt dances,
…drawing in drooling dormants
Fair flocks –
…fancy our fire
Greeting gracias
…getting gladies
Jerking in jingles

IV
Odomankomah’s orders
…orchestrate an awesome orgy
Fi fi fi fi, fi fi fi fi
Ka ka ka ka, ka ka ka ka
Hi hi hi hi, hi hi hi hi
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
Our background beefing up blissues

V
How hurting!
This heart hates
Waking
…without the wreck
…in a worshipping-reality
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 10, 2019

KUTUGYE NONSENSE

You
You rock which shock my mocks
You
You bone which stone and drone
…my emotions
…into public places
You
You fork which locks and blocks
…my defenses
…into helplessness
How?
How could you make me so bow?
You prick!

II
You tickled my trust
…to tremble in tearing
You woke my warmth
…to wickedly wreck it
You caressed my care
…to carelessly curse it
You tended to my tenderness
…to tossingly trash it
You buttered my butterflies
…to brazenly break them
You flattered my flutters
…to ficklely finish them
You!
You sicker!

III
You’re like stinking socks
…when I’m wearing my shoes
You’re like hateful hair
…when I’m wearing my hat
You’re like beaten breasts
…when I’m wearing my bra
You’re like drowning dens
…when I’m wearing my dross
You’re like caving caves
…when I’m wearing my clothes
You’re like earthquaking earthworms
…when I’m wearing my earrings
You
You sticker!

IV
Why?
Why can’t I bath you out
…out of the body of my mind?
Why can’t I wash you out
…out of the wishes of my clothes?
Why can’t I soak your stench out
…out of the scent of my socks?
Why can’t I kill you
…in the kro of my heart?
Why?
You tick!

V
I am now a fuming forest
…hissing hysterically
I am now an occultic oven
…brimmingly burning
I am now a sea of savagery
…seethingly sulking
I am now a hunting hell
Dare,
…just dare
…to step in the trap
…of my hunt
And you will smell your roasting game
You trick!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 8, 2019

RAMADAN KAREEM

Ya Allah
…prepare the grounds of bellies
…to stand hunger rallies
As your sons and daughters fast
…to feel the pain of the outcast

II
Ya Allah
…quench all future temper
…so they can’t this piousness tamper
As your children prepare
…in humility, to with the poor, pair

III
Ya Allah
…tie the catastrophe of chaotic death
…and let peace, all around birth
As your servants lay their ails
…before your merciful presence

IV
Ya Allah
…bless all struggling hearts
…cushion all torn mats
…fill all empty pots
…bless all needy cots
…pack all crying pockets
…heal all haunting ills and closed mindedness
In your wise discretional will
In reward of your wards’ willingness
…to obey your call for service
…to humanity
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 7, 2019

LIKE YOUR LOVER

When you wake up
Owura,
…see her like a lover you see hand in hand down the aisle
One whose thoughts bubble down your belly –
…warmth of promises born and unborn
One whose smile gives you the strength –
…to sacrifice yourself for her every need
One you can hunger –
…to satisfy
One you can suffer –
…to see safe
One whose pain rain shivers –
…on your fears
And work towards her flourish

II
When you wake up
Awuraa,
…see her like a child you see
…rocking greatness in your future
One whose sadness pierces arrows –
…in your heart
One whose sickness points a gun –
…at your head
One whose happiness –
…is your morning sun
Her excellence –
…your moon in the dark
That child you’ll sacrifice everything
…to see as a grown and responsible woman
And work towards her growth

III
Yes,
…work towards her growth
She is afterall yours and yours’ yours
Yes –
…yours and yours’ yours’ yours unendingly
Your Nation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 6, 2019

SEARCHING

Hate her!
How hard the hoe hits heads of hes
Hurting hearts heated for her!
Hurt her!
Her hammer hardly has hands
Here, heavens help hes
So hiss and heap hatred on her!

II
She said sorry
Shocking sheroes sharing shivers
Sore somberly soothed,
She shunned serpentous shepherds’ serenades,
As she still searched a similar sir
Seeking a she-he-qual

III
Branded bended,
Bastards booed boldly
Beating betters badly in brotherhood
To boycott Betty
Breaking breasts
Belling-out beauty

IV
Her heart humming happiness,
Still she smiles
Branding bullies bastards
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 5, 2019

PLAY ME A SONG ABOUT HEARTACHE

Ia
Flutters, butters, smiles, miles
…………….shatters……………
Cane, pain, madness, sadness

Ib
Play songs
…about heartache
Which my soul so longs
As this heart turns in a bellyache
Knowing not where it belongs
I assure you that I know its every alphabetical word
And I’ve been in its every exploitative shed
Oh I have felt its –
…hitting, eating, angering, ripping, thrashing, attacking, crossing hearts exasperatingly

II
So play me a song of its heat
Making sure its force enters
To make sure its sorrows are arraigned
To come and hurt’s cure redeem
It is just a test
To see if its power will abate
Just to be clear
In my bid to heal
To heal entirely

III
I need a complete kill
Of the yearnings in a clean heal
So I can shed this painful hill
My heart climbs to breath fill
And feel no pangs needing many a chill pill
So regret can drain to nil

IV
For tears
…mounting on fears
…flagged by spears
…on roadsides of peers
Especially yearlings
Are hurtful bombs
…threatening detonation
…at every step of Embarrassment’s second
So play me all those songs
…of heartache

V
From the ache from the stone of love
To the ache from the gun of death
Through to the ache of the whirlwinds of loss
To the ache of the bomb of hatred
I am like an antelope
…at an easily found adukrom
During Aboakyere’s hunt
Knowing but painfully numb from sadness
I would be so caught if you don’t play
Play me a song about heartache
To thaw my numbness and move me from harm’s way

VI
Yes, it’s good to painfully dance
…to enhance
…the tears to flow
Yes, it’s prudent to loudly cry
…to bye
…the pain to go
Lest I turn stone cold
…as bitterness mould
…the breakage to show
A full being sinking so low
So play me a song about heartache
To rain this cloud hanging on the sky of my happiness
For my sun to happily shine
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 4, 2019

YOUR VIEWS OF ME

Perspectives are all we have
Where you stand differs from where he stands
How you act differs from how she acts
So you’re free to draw me
From the pencil of your view
In your artistic tone

II
Your steam might be showing my form in anger
Her steam might be showing my form in love
His steam might be showing my form in care
Their steam might be showing my form in leadership
Other steams might show my form in discipline
Or hatred
Or stupidity
Or pity
You can name all forms
All in the mirrors of your perspectives

III
It would be weird
For eyes seeing my pate of defense
To draw my face of affability
It would be weird
For eyes seeing my jaws of hunger
To draw my mouth of satisfaction
It would be weird
For eyes seeing my eyes with rivers of painful tears
To draw my smiles of clarity and warmth
So feel free
To draw me from your perspective

IV
I live like a footballer
Fighting for possession
Dribbling to awe
Passing for teamwork
Shooting for goals
Amidst it all
I fear no injury or injuring
I fear no corners or goal kicks
I fear no fouls, side kicks
Talk less of penalties
And when I lose
I choose to cry it out or join my celebrating opponents

V
So judge all you can from the perspectives of your views
The hen cares not about where its dust lands
So far as the earth reveals its meals
I sure will respect it all
Your views of me on the table of interested mouths
And in holes of itchy ears
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©May 3, 2019

UNFORTUNATE

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

II
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?

III
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

IV
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?

V
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

VI
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

WORKING WORKERS

Sea tortoises
…living in their sea in body, soul and spirit
…loving their sea as silver lining love their sky
…working to clean their sea like lotuses in mud
Are worth celebrating –
…when Asaase Yaa chooses to honour its builders
Shikaman bii, oyiwaladɔn!

II
Strong eagles
…watching and protecting
…as normal eyes sleep
Stamping near security of peace
…sacrificing their strengths for sound sleepers
…risking their lives
For this golden coast turned Ghana to stand!
The tears of dawn
…are but thankful appreciations
For your indefatigable
…contributions
Nananom nhyira nka mo o!

III
You crowing cocks
…whose azans and bells
…wake to send us to our handiworks
Like children
…lovingly dragged from beds
…by their proud mothers
Deserve a worthy thanksgiving
On this day when legs and arms of work, rest to be celebrated
Nnaase o!

IV
Oh mighty bookworms!
You who chase words
…into their sentence compounds
And proceed
…to their understanding chambers
Climbing storeys
…to enlighten minds with your finds
Uprooting mountains
…of distracting illiteracy
Throwing light on life paths
…and laws
…and monies
…and fates
Deserve a standing ovation
Would an Ayekoo act shea butter
…to massage the tiredness
…off your minds?
Ayekoo o!

V
To the sheep who follow to maintain sanity
…aware of the potentials of they
…turning meat in forbidden errors
To the goats who live
…rebelling, receiving lashes
…but determined to station the steering
…of this nation on its proper road
To the dogs who bark
…scaring off oppression
…in protection of our sovereignty
To the owls who watch out
…making sure troubles walk not in sleep
…to give us surprise greetings in attacks
To the trees who shade
…giving breaths to the weary
…shading and protecting our homes through windbreaks
And all the fine species
…in this beautiful near paradise
…whose energies engine our growth
Akpe kakakakaka!

VI
To the vultures
…who perch on pessimistic trees
…in cocoons of corruption
…in coops of indifference
…tearing into shreds
…cloths of patriotism
Mensahs –
…living among our struggling home
We pray for the legs of your minds
…to find the strength
…to tune to the right frequency
…of Radio-Yours-is-Yours
So your shaking left hands
…pointing to your fathers’ houses
…will turn to your bold right hands
This is a day
…when curses are thrown to a hopeless apata
So you too take your thanksgiving
To bring to bear
…the beautiful turn around
…we anticipate
…for a raise in national productivity

VII
Asaase Yaa
…Abɛ kann a ɛnni awieɛ
Ɛde nnaase a ɛnni kabea
…ma mo
Yes, Ama Ghana
…gives thanksgiving wearing mmari-ntama
…scented by gratefulness
…adorned by pride
To you all, on this day
Singing –
…AYEKOO
…to you children of the land
Working your souls into its hopeful building
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 1, 2019

ROLES

Creation in nations had stations of rations
Odomankomah so made it all
Fitness in unfitness
Unfitness in fitness
A completeness of complementations

II
That is why –
…there are talls in fit of shorts
That is why –
…there are fats in fit of slim
That is why –
…there are fair –
…in fit of dark
That is why –
…there are strong in fit of the weak
Equality means not the inexistence of inequalities

III
Equality –
…means respect
…through inequalities
Equality –
…means recognition
…through different abilities
Equality –
…means acknowledgement
…in vice versahood
Equality –
…means live and let’s live

IV
Equality –
…is no war for lessons
Equality –
…is no alienations
…of winners from losers
Equality –
…is no fabɛwɔso
Fingers touch strings for sounds to birth
Harmony is the centre of equality

V
So brother –
…cook all you can
…womanhood is not in the ingredients of the kitchen
Sister –
…work all you can
…manhood is not in the thrill of the workplace
An akatim-akapen from bathrooms to parked cars
…brothels to quick doings
Can fill not the void of a mortal pair
A hen needs its cock
A cock needs its hen

VI
So let’s stop marking time
…and start marking differences
…differences of abilities and capabilities
So we can co our habits
…in consciousness of our extremities
And make this short life span
…a worthwhile experience
This bickering blocks our awareness
…until the grave calls huuuu
To our sad frets of regrets
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 30, 2019. Inspired by Prof. Lawrence Owusu Ansah of UCC

WHAT I HOPED FOR YOU

In this horrid sadness
…you left behind
Amidst this painful lifelessness
… I live in bind
I think of it all
…what I hoped for
….for you

II
Even in my hunger
…I hoped for your fullness
…choices of delicacies on an optional table
Even in my anger
…I hoped for your peace
…a calm serenity serving series of smiles
…your beautiful dimpled smiles
Even in my hurts
…I hoped for your safety
…a flawless protection to free your mind
Even in my needs
…I hoped for your wealth
…a full richness like rich kings and crowns
Even in my bitterness
…I hoped for your loving
…hearts syncing to your serving
…minds accepting all your yearning
Even in my cold
…I hoped for your warmth
…comfortability in all your abilities
…a life banished of struggles

III
I never hoped to think you
…in the ground’s belly
…as one of the many who satisfy not its insatiability
I never wished this time
…when nights serve insomnia
…on my working mind
…and pinch my sorrows into daunting hollows
I certainly never hoped for your absence
…in my yearning presence
…nor thought this nonsense
…of your short memories

IV
I only hoped for beauty
…for your living handsomeness
And I hoped my duty
…in your freer sphere
…would serve you better
…in your different unwellness
But alas!
I am here
…and you are in the downing there
Probably mortally drained
…probably bonely weakening
Merging with these sands turning dust
To be treated naught in a future peeling
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 29, 2019. In honour of Kwadjo Opoku Ahwinie (September 5, 2011 – December 10, 2018)

WHEN YOU WANT TO TELL IT

When you want to tell it
To an audience unreadable
Your tongue becomes a football park
And ‘it’ becomes a slippery ball
Dribbled by your will
Coming as far as the tip of the tongue
And speeding back as far in as the end of your throat

II
When you want to tell it
Knowing it could land you in a frying saucepan or fire
At best send you swimming in a cool river of sympathy and or pity
Your teeth become protective walls
Your eyes turn red on traffic of care

III
When you want to tell it
Knowing not its harvest
Either of freedom or witch hunt
Ears engage in a battle
One side hearing songs of applause or near applause
The other dodging shots so sharp

IV
When you want to tell it
You are like a diarrhoea patient
With the strength of pride on a public stage
Cold sweats evaporating from the pot of your head
On the heat of fear
When you want to tell it
Oh when you want to tell it
IT
Your SECRET
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 27, 2019

I KNOW NO FOE

I know no foe
I don’t hate sow
I show no arrow in my bow
Until I am unfairly asked to kowtow

II
If you carry no hatred
In the inheritance bowl of your ancestry
Where stones of ethnicity aimed
At my dignity is atrociously firm
If you carry no buckets where catapults of class
Securely aims at my pride
If you carry no bag where bombs of racism
Aim at my struggling existence
If you hold no handcuffs to cuff my rights
Then I know you as no foe

III
Sins of fathers being carried by righteous wards
Is no fairness in my moral dictionary
As long as you come as is
I know no foe
I will know no foe
I will seek no foe
And I will embrace
Embrace your warmth with no qualms
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 25, 2019

USE EVERY WILL TO WORK

Use every will to work
Frown on all those who shirk
Till we all our flaws impeding growth bury
We need to be in a fair hurry
So our feat will be seen
So we’ll get out of this sore hurts we’ve been

II
Let all who laugh with smiles
At our snail pace growth miles
Have nothing their foul mouths on blacks to say
Let them with respect pay
Us an ovation bow
Let them wonder and ask us why and how?

III
Then we’ll sing of all the toil we have suffered to reach there
Then they’ll know of all our strength and great will so they’ll act fair
So our mountains of shame
Get lost in our new fame
And all our fight
Will lead us to the light
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 24, 2019 (Inspired by James Weldon Johnson’s Lift Every Voice and Sing)

WHERE IS YOUR SMILE?

This is a world where strong sentiments
…need stronger spirits
This is a world where stronger hurdles –
…need the strongest souls
This is a world –
…where conflicting battles are fought with emotional swords
This is a world –
…a world where a little inattentiveness spells doom
So dig it-
…your sword of smiles from the pits of your hells

II
Where is your smile?
Dig it –
…from the well of your hurts
Where is your smile?
Mine it –
…from the depth of your sadness
Where is your smile?
Lift it –
…from the lowest floor of your pain
Where is your smile?
Drive it –
…through the vastest road of your shame
Where is your smile?
Blast it –
…from the hardest stone of your ridicule
Where is your smile?
Fetch it –
…from the hollow tunnel of your need
Where is your smile?
Carve it –
…from the coolest wood of your loneliness
Where is your smile?
Smoke it –
…from the deepest den of your hunt

III
Where is your smile?
Please don’t send it on pleasure errands of the unworthy
Where is your smile?
Get it
Just get it
As your most trusted armour-
…on this living battlefield
To help you fight fair
To help you block taunts
And fence you from vipers
Until real help knocks
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 23, 2019

TROUBLE

So I brought my wife from Ghana
and got this fine Montana
My aging lovely wife
Is my soul, heart and life
I didn’t want to lose her
Undoing Montana wasn’t fair
So I invited her home and introduced them as such;
“Owusua, m’adumamu ni ni o,
Montana meet my lovely cousin”
Language alibiing in connivance
I took her to the guest room

II
Owusua brought us food
And soon I got into her hood
“Oh daddy
Shhh!
Oh daddy!
Shhh!
Oh daddy! I love the way you touch me!”
Girl yi de asɛm bɛbrɛ mi o!
“Oh daddy!
Shhh!
Oh daddy!
Shhh!
Oh daddy!
My tit is so hard!”

III
I stopped, put on the radio
And went out to my fate check
Nothing was wrong and I still felt safe
And so I locked in
Picking off from the left off
“Oh daddy! (what?)
Oh daddy! (shhh)
Oh daddy! (Awurade)
I think I’m gonna come now”
Oh I hit it
“Oh daddy!
Oh daddy!
Oh daddy!
I like the way you fuck me”
Heart thumping, I jumped off and cleaned up
And put on a shirt to still check my rating

IV
I opened the door and saw Owusua on the floor
“Mewura metee biribi”
“Ɛnyɛ hweee m’awuraa ɛyɛ radio no ɛnono”
So I get back to it
And held her big tongue as I pump my air
Into her happy roaming tires

V
Wifey was convinced, that fuck she heard was “lock”
And I was so happy when she laid it off
But coming home the next day
Gave me a shock to this day
As the rubber I thought flushed
Met me with its unfortunate losers
Who were so happy
Because I prevented them from meeting- their life ticket eggs
Oh me!
Oh me!
Oh me!!!
What have I done now?
So I was forced to myself defend
Hwan na wo de no baa me fie ha no?
“Master look here, I’ve been here for a year
All your plans from the top are written in my palms
Your only source of hope
Is your really convincing remorse
Isn’t wisdom raising hands in a surrounded battlefield?”
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 14, 2019

GO KILL JESUS

Go kill him, your Jesus
And wake him after your playing recess
Go kill him, your Jesus
And resurrect him after your prayers access
And continue the eternal cycle
Always a unicycle

II
Start by arresting him –
…with charges of your creation
Saying the son must –
…suffer for the Father’s nation
Start by handcuffing him-
…with hurts of his fame
Slapping him with your given –
… surrealistic power of his name
Build your yearly sins into a –
…bulldozing cross
To make him suffer your –
…serial loss

III
If you know not your ingredients
Worry not, you’ll be their dawning recipients
Petty quarrels –
… to ill gotten laurels
Hypocrisy –
… to hidden heresy
Fornication –
… to felt masturbation
Lies –
…to blasphemous cries
Stealing –
…to soiling superstioning
Needless Fighting –
…to cruel killing
What have you!
Only you see, in your mirror, your broken moral view!

IV
Make sure your cross is heavy
So his intense pain can clear your sinful levy
Be sure he hears doing away with your drunkenness is one of your fears
Be sure he suffers to cry all your seas of tears
Bath him with your betraying spittle
And make him feel more than little
Kill and cook him –
… to your satisfaction’s brim
After, bury him in hymns
So he can serve as your God-calling sims

V
Oh Bluetooth his rising rumours –
…to clear your guilty tumors
Then wear your white –
…to praise with all your might
And after, rig his name as newly bathed pigs
… Isn’t that your happy gigs?

VI
Err, isn’t your wages of sin his death?
Wouldn’t your months of sins lead to his birth?
Isn’t it a circle so cycled?
Don’t you always end up recycled?

VIII
So go, go and start your kill
To lay foundations to your paid bills
You all give me chills –
… Your rotten souls can’t heal!

IX
Oh Easter is a duster
A yearly disaster!

X
——- .
——……
——–.

XI
Oh, precede your start with your crosses
Of afifi toffee, bae-mu-dwa-mu and wurɔ drɔsses
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 19, 2019

GREAT GIRLS, BULLY BOYS

Great girls-
… Bully boys
Regal layered, local-
…national, internationally pushed
A stampede so brutal-
… Egos lost through negligence still seeingly unseen
Oh there’ll be Bronya dresses
… And overused chalewote to match
Catastrophic catastrophe –
… Who says? The seers say!

II
The winds, before, pushed down lasses
Down dream hills
Making them shadows
Lost in wholes
And wholes, lost to societal stakes
Don’t you see the same winds blowing in the opposite?

III
Will you continue –
… this pattern?
Planting queens –
… beside servants?
None grows weeds amidst –
… prized plants
None farms thorns in farms
… to be inherited by the soft palmed
Seamstresses know their worth is accentuated –
… by footwear
So why leave existing shoes in abongelement –
… while making extravagant dresses?

IV
This is who we are –
… Forgettors of work in progress
Passionaters of the new
Why can’t we do this and do that
And hold this and hold that
And grow this and grow that
Side by side
To avoid unyoked inequalities?

V
Must we always pull this –
…To fall that
And fall that-
…to push this?
Would you rather farm lone hands-
…in heavens
Or happy hands –
… in paradise?
We need no hells of loneliness in heavens!
We need no fire and ice
The former –
…burning to evaporate the latter
The latter –
…seeking to kill the flames of the other

VI
You don’t brake –
…on this bite back
And focus –
…on a balance
You’ll see the basket of vindictiveness –
…you sent to fetch water
In place of –
…the pot of fairness

VII
If you wish for –
…a never ending chaos
Of one side –
…always facing the ground
Then continue –
…continue creating that vulnerable –
…tunnel

VIII
We’re here –
…as ancestors or nsaman-twɛntwɛn
We’re here –
…as breakers or brakers
We’re here –
…As achievers or hopelessnesses

IX
Whatever rides our consciences –
…on streets of righteousness and calm
Must be the wheels on our minds

X
Afterall –
…we know of dead goats –
…that is, if we’ve not acted them
We know of toothless barking dogs –
…that is, if we’ve not mimicked them into reality
We know of white elephantic hopes –
…if we’re not white elephantic cartoons
Where our development being on its mark –
…is concerned

XI
So take the wings –
…of lads
And give them –
…to the lasses
Brea-
…king one
To fix –
…the other and let’s clap for ourselves
Our wisdom knows no bound
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 18, 2019

THE NOISY AIDE

Godon godon godon, gong gong godon
Apatampa godon, krɛkɛtɛ godon, kon kon gudon, krɛtɛke godong, apatampa gudon, ɔnwam atikɔ pɔ firi suantie twɛdeɛ! Godon!

II
While the sounds lift
Even the heads of mouths in ground dancing
Close doors stage worst nightmares
To be covered by dust made through the dance of the crowd
How intelligent!

III
Godon godon godon, gong gong godon
Apatampa godon, krɛkɛtɛ godon, kon kon gudon, krɛtɛke godong, apatampa gudon, ɔnwam atikɔ pɔ firi suantie twɛdeɛ! Godon!

IV
How skillfully perfected this cycle is!
How sadly ignorant we all seem!
Knowingly unknowing!
Unknowingly knowing!
Yet trap after trap after trap after trap
See us back lying in a defeating caughtness

V
Must the nation suffer belly ache because of the cholera of greed gladly caught by insatiable few?

VI
Godon godon godon, gong gong godon
Apatampa godon, krɛkɛtɛ godon, kon kon gudon, krɛtɛke godong, apatampa gudon, ɔnwam atikɔ pɔ firi suantie twɛdeɛ! Godon!

VII
How drizzles always precede tsunamis
Slashes my intestines and knots them into dysfunction
Always

VIII
Can’t we learn to shed the see through
Nighties of nightmares
To escape rape through dangerous known routes?
Funny the drums beat on

IX
Godon godon godon, gong gong godon
Apatampa godon, krɛkɛtɛ godon, kon kon gudon, krɛtɛke godong, apatampa gudon, ɔnwam atikɔ pɔ firi suantie twɛdeɛ! Godon!

X
And we will always be lost
Always, in their dust and sweats
And beauty and talk
Only to be vomited onto the shores of third worldhood

XI
Godon godon godon, gong gong godon
Apatampa godon, krɛkɛtɛ godon, kon kon gudon, krɛtɛke godong, apatampa gudon, ɔnwam atikɔ pɔ firi suantie twɛdeɛ! Godon! Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 16, 2019

YOU NEED A BAAAD GIRL

All you scouting streets for holes of meat
Feigning defeat when pushed to back seats
Sulking from playing last fiddle to passion’s beat
You don’t have to be a roaming cheat
All you need is a baaad girl

II
All you need is a
… baaad girl
One who can flip
… your flaps
Deflate your over pumped
… bellies
Fetch goosebumps from the interior
… of your old and hardened exterior
And vulcanize your flat
… egos into that of newborns

III
Why chase away matches when you can train your dog
To be able to fetch your log
From the other side of flutters dock?
Just shed your unnecessary mock

IV
All you need is a
… baaad girl
Who can burst into
… your archaic mouth
Sit on its white elephant
… sofa
Stand, play around
… the walls
Go

… … …under to clear some choked pores
And reach into your deeper chambers
… to tickle your excitement

V
Think of all the wheeling sick carts
Bought for selves like fine arts
Only to break into sweats of hurts
Knowing you’ve stepped on other innocent hearts

VI
All you need is a
… baaad girl
One who will tour you
To find your Accra in the whole of
… your Ghana
To find your Kigali in the whole of
… your Rwanda
To spot your Paris in the whole of
… your France
To locate your Toronto in the whole of
… your Canada
Gifting you shivers from passion’s happy
… rivers

VII
As you go through the heat
Of stalking
And talking
And hating
And manipulating
And threatening
Wouldn’t you rather live calm and neat
With no sore frets on your ego?

VIII
You need a baaad girl
One who will lick you up
… like a lollipop
Crown you up like a tight
… cork on a shaky bottle
Swim in the seas of your
… eyes in action
Slap your expectations with
… a wow and an aww
And still call you
… Awesome

IX
So pick you up and pick her up
From the domestic basket where she has herself tossed
Lift you up from the bore of her ring
To see the city of your wants
Whet her appetite to take that chariot to your needdom
Sharing visions attainable in beddom
Without fears

X
All you need is a
… baaad girl
Just open the windows of her
…mind
Fetch the girl from
… the old
For every old was ever a
… a young
It is a blessing to bring your part along

XI
You just need that
… baaad girl
The one who lit your passions and woke your reactions in the then
You need the
… baaad girl
That one who comatosed in herself in her bid to you or your new shoots fit
You need a
… baaad girl
That one who slept long to light the carer to glow
You need that
… baaad girl
That flower whose thorns fell off
To make your hold painless and your climb smooth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April, 16, 2019

EI ABAYIFOƆ YI

Yaa I
Abena- Boɔ is a mysterious being, I swear!
See, just last week, Maame Ama’s cat
Escaped Efo Dzakpasu’s bɔtɔ
And found an opening in her window
So decided to find some protection from its assailant
In her room
All we repeatedly heard was
Ei abayifoɔ yi! Ɔbayifoɔ, ɛnɛ deɛ w’ahyia!
By the time we reached there
The poor Nyame Bɛkyerɛ had joined its ancestral cats
Painfully through her banku ta

Yaa II
That is not all o
Just five days back,
Akua Mansa woke up at dawn to sweep
Only to see this same Abena-Boɔ
Sitting in front of her room with something whitish
Smeared all over her face
Akua shouted and run off shouting
“Kakai o! Kakai!”
The next morning, Eno Abena made a song out of “Abayifoɔ yi a mo wɔ fie ha yi a!”

Yaa III
As if that is not enough
Four days ago,
Her mother came with her sisters to visit her
She poured salt all over them
And swept their footsteps
Like they were some kind of garbage disposed at her doorsteps
All the while shouting “ei abayifoɔ o!”

Yaa IV
As for what happened three days ago,
I was so scandalized!
We were all outside when some cockroach
Being chased by some fowls passed by
She quickly picked praye-tia and started hitting it
All the while shouting “hwɛ hwɛ hwɛ hwɛ, hwɛ abayifoɔ no!”

Yaa V
Just yesterday
We were all sleeping when we heard
“Obi mmɛgye me o
Abayifoɔ yi pɛ sɛ wɔn kyere me we o”
We rushed in to see
What she termed witchcraft
Was the shadows of the swaying palm fronds
Elongated by the outside light
Awurade!

Yaa VI
Don’t laugh!
What at all is this?
What is the definition of witchcraft?
No wonder she has no job
And lives off her poor old husband
Who comes through once in a fortnight

Yaa VII
But what could be the cause of her shadow fearing?
Aha! It could be that new pastor
What is that his name again?
Wɔ Pɛ Wo Akum Wo
Causing confusion after spending her few pesewas
Mɔbɔ!

Kofi I
So all you know is the name of the pastor?
You mean all you’ve seen are these few scenarios?
Then listen and listen well
The name of her church is He Will Kill Your Enemies Jesus the Just Church
Before I travelled, my young son asked me to watch her
So he could show me something
He just clapped
And Eno Abena somersaulted three times
Don’t laugh

Kofi II
I gave him a beating and warned him
But Eno went on to sprinkle stone salt in front of our door
I felt somewhat afraid
I mean, clapping and foot stumping are all they do at their church
Why then did it startle her?
And coming from a child of 6?
Stop laughing Yaa
Maybe she found herself in place of Satan
And felt the clap aiming at her
But truthfully, if this is to continue
I fear for her
Ah! There comes my cue, my rice is burning
You know wifey has travelled
See you later!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 15, 2019

THE NEEDED AWAKENING

Let’s open our doors –
…of deeds
And sweep out –
… silly sulkings
Gathering the dirt –
… of daydreaming
Adding the garbage-
… of grumbling
To throw into the incinerator –
… Of servitude
To see the cleanliness-
…of a start-anew

II
Let’s dust the sands-
… of dawdling
Fetching and filling our drums-
… With togetherness
Washing our clothes to get out stains-
… of sabotage
Scrubbing off floors of taints –
… Of feeble mindedness
In preparedness for cooking-
Our development

III
Let’s weed out plants –
… Of redundancy
Ploughing the fields of wealth –
… With hard work
Our confidence stemming from –
… Tactful skills acquisition
Uprooting stumps –
… Of neocolonialism
Planting in their places the love –
Of our own

IV
Let’s remove all cob webs –
… of corruption
Scrapping off selfishness under our –
… Working pans
Killing off nwansena-pobi –
… Of corruption weavers
To help our work feed us –
With ours

V
Let’s brush bitterness out of –
… Our mouths
Gurgling with mouth wash of appreciation
Bathing to wash off stains
… Of lies
… Of hate
… Of fence sitting
… Of unhealthy connections
And of backbiting to arrive at healthy growth

VI
Let’s build this nation –
… With the cement of determination
… Stones of optimism
… Sands of selflessness
… Iron rods of tolerance
Roofing with love –
… Self motivation
… Can-do spirits
Rocking our own with plastering and painting attitudes –
… Of this-is-the-bestness
… Of you-wish-you-were-in thisness
Waking admirations and a following unrivalled

VII
I speak for us when I say
… We’re tired of the capriciousness of pull him downs
…The deceptive debauchery destroying our youth
…The unthinking and dubious fat-catting killing our zeals
… The unjustified paranoia cancelling our attraction
… The pandemonium of polluters soiling our land
And the antiquated see-through commotionary accusations digging us in

VIII
Even jungle beings survive to see many a moon
Digging out patronizing partiality:
… Scorn
… Suffrage of the vulnerable
… Unfairness of the un-belonging
And holding hands to stand up in hard times
To build the heaven we want
Taking ourselves off the list of shitholes
Of orange-skinned ignorant racists

IX
For we are-
… Can doers!
Who built their-
…Near heavens?
Who toiled for their shiny –
… Capitals?
Who built the crowns –
… Their heads so parade to us enslave?

X
We can if we decide to!
We will if we agree to!
Kente came out of just watching the spider weave
Didn’t it?

XI
Every soul has a hand of change!
Wake your spirits to wake your souls
To the new awakening
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 13, 2019

I WILL GIFT MYSELF TO A CAUCASIAN

I will gift myself to a Caucasian
Than have me be the back decoration of an Afrimuffin
Who left the embrace of his mother
To serve at the feet of an unkind master

II
I will gift myself to a Caucasian
I will so gift myself to a vulture looking Caucasian
Than be one of the juiciest meats
Afrimuffins select through the lenses of their many defeats
Riding on products dreams of planes and Yankees
I have now seen their cunning keys

III
So locals should suffer with village spittings
While you select the worthy chippings
Because of your servitude in high altitude?
After wearing yourselves into weakened wrinkles, you grow a confidence in attitude
To select the juiciest fem produce from your home farms
Thanks to your few droppings of dollars?
Chai! Nnipa a ne nnipa ne sika!

IV
I will gift myself to a Caucasian
I will so gift myself to a Caucasian
Than fall victim to your rotten bananas
And your stalking Hannahs
Who surely will give no peace
Just because your jealous pins may be tearing you into many a piece
Osoookode adwenha, yɛ gye no akɔkora tiriho!

V
I will gift myself to a Caucasian
I will so gift myself to an unworthy Caucasian
For him to use as his sleeping rag
Than see myself as the queen of you Afrimuffins
Who mostly eat the shitty attitudes of your white muffins
And have only the intentions of homegoing and not that of homecoming
Were your souls captured by slavery?

VI
Annoying how you won’t even rise to their levels
Always acting their shovels
And keep piling on your mother
Stinking rags of your master
I will gift myself to a Caucasian
I will so gift myself to a foul mouthed, tick-testicled-Caucasian
Than you regally flushed Afrimuffins
Determined to die and mix with alien sands while your mother craves your touch
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 13, 2019

KINDER WORDS

Exhume the words from the soil of the past
And dust the hurts which nailed the heart
At the crossroads of good and bad
Making it take the latter
To reach the hell of uselessness
In the vehicle of bitterness

II
Kinder words would have nursed the seedlings of morality
In beds of role modelling
Watered with hope, aired with tenderness in the sun of care
And given eyes determination
To take the path of dreams in the vehicle of hard work
To reach the seat of greatness

III
So this ghost of deviancy you see
Is your mouthy-works
Which killed a good kid and created a robotic monster
To train its innocent spirit and mourning soul
To reach this point of bother
Where your horrified eyes watch
As your fear-arrested mouth quiver

IV
Deal with the nightmare
Many might have suffered victims
In its frantic climb to get to you
How unfair it would be if you escape!
For now plant the lesson in soils of fertile hearts
To germinate and grow into moral lessons
To save the future from the fury of fire
Mostly started by careless moments of insensitivity
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 12, 2019

NEOCOS

I will ride on your rea
soning
I will sit on your su
ffering
I will brake on your brea
kage
I will soo clout your ca
ring
And will lick your lear
ning

II
Let me hear the drops of your tears in torrents
Ko, ko, gidim gidim, ko, ko, ko, ko, gidim gidim, hweeeee!
Let the wind of your hurts try uprooting
The trees of my defenses
And see how I kill your efforts

III
I will flake in your fea
...ring
I will work in your wai
ling
I will float in your fra
grance
I will run from your rin
ging
And paddle your pa
tience

IV
Menkɔti a menti
Gyentia dada nyɛ sɔ na
Go and fetch the fires of experience from the lighted oven of Satan
And come try to light the death of your reign
And see how I will spit on your hard work

V
I will rake your ro
mance
I will trap your trac
king
I will severe your ser
ving
I will truncate your tru
ths
And haunt your hea
ling

VI
It takes great efforts for a donkey to become a dragon
It takes a lot of exercise for a butterfly to become an eagle
It is a near impossibility for a sheep to turn lion
Step once on a testicle in mistakehood
The foolish second time needs a fair battle
So try and touch even the seams of my freedom
And see how I burn your yearning

VII
I will pierce your pea
ce
I will hound your ho
ping
I will peck your pl
ease
I will trash your ten
derness
And tear into your tear
ing

VIII
These doors are safely locked o!
A padlock of determination
On codes of forward-everness
With a balustrade of independence
So try giving it your best
And see how I arrow your sorrow

IX
I will cook your cro
ssing
I will lamp your lo
sing
I will brush off your blu
shing
I will snow on your soul
searching
And tackle your tir
ing

X
Even the earth sometimes fumes in quakes
Expert eyes know better to flee
But you flea, you continue to follow the scent of sweets
You try and see how I catapult your ambitious bird

XI
I will fling your fea
thers
I will behead your be
dding
I will cut and cook your car
cass
I will so eat your en
ding
To stop you at all cost, you SCOUN

DREL!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 11, 2019

YOU CHOSE

You chose,
You chose the flapping and slapping ass
And the beautiful big brown eyes
You chose,
You chose those breasts oh so walky-up-and-downing voluptuous
And those beautiful long legs
You chose
You chose the toffee-like mouth well painted
And the milky-coffee-like-skin well bleached
I didn’t matter then
I don’t want to matter now

II
There are no riddles in wants of the heart
None goes from loving water melons to loving lime
Can you forget the red chewables and squeezy waters?
Can you replace the sweetness with the sour nature of lime’s taste?
Please be not confused about the many seeds
Breaking your interest
Chew them too, aren’t they some portion sort of
In the excitement of your enjoyment?
Mister, kill your snake and this punch take
Is it because you now know I can make lemonades
And be in so many other “nades”?
I am no mucus reliever of you nothingness
I didn’t matter to you then
I shouldn’t matter to you now

III
What youth selects, should be the seat of adulthood
If you are that aggrieved
Turn back the steering of time and go change your choice
Don’t stand here with your unpleasant sounds of regret
No gold in the earth turns jewellery by itself
Unpleasant wizardry, is coveting a finish when you disliked its beginning
Agya, I so didn’t matter to you then
I most certainly don’t want to matter to you now

IV
PLEASE!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 10, 2019

YOUR JESUS

Your Jesus whose name is a whip you pull out
Whenever your anger turns into a shout
On building a house into a home
Was he not lonesome?

II
Your Jesus
That name you spit out
Whenever you seek from me a man in the moral stout
Did he ever let his pestle pound fufu in any abaayowa’s sweet mortar?
Were there whispers of he courting some man of affluence’s daughter?

III
Your Jesus
That name you chant out
Whenever you see children, trying to make it my emotion’s clout
Can you please name his first born?
Maybe then, I will heed to your bothersome horn

IV
Please, let me be
And let your Jesus be
You always chanting his name makes him the ghost we all see
Parading in tricking, hurting and killing

V
Oh I forgot
You call it saving…
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 9, 2019

IN A DEVIL’S MASK?

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?

II
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

III
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

IV
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

V
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

VI
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

MIRROR MIRROR ON OUR WALL

“Mirror mirror on our wall
What are we at all?”
Lions swallowed by cats swallowed by mice
All trapped by hyenas
You are ebonies lost in fake pink and on the brink of a sink
You are porcupines made up like rain-whipped nsɛnsɛ
You are abro a apɛnsɛ
Marked to be harvested by mouths whose hands know not your soil
Talk less of your sweats
You are hairs hidden in wigs of abrɔ-nsɛ
Like ghosts of colonizers mosquitoes killed on battles of malaria
You are hearts murdering your own souls just as hungry grounds drink passing waters
Pots drinking off your own waters to be cracked and broken by chasing heat!

II
You are the rich with pockets linked to sockets of greed
You’re pure seeds always craving corroding seeds as your garnish
You are tattered clothes on your own fleshes
Opening up to scavengers with your eyes shut open
You are idiots of wants, always hiding behind suited fetishes who
Chew your dignity to open you up to worship manipulations
You’re everything you shouldn’t be
And everything just any tool could be

III
Look at you
Rot of safe options
Fences of indifference
Eyes of looking blindness!
Listening deafs!
Muted talking mouths!
Strong stuck legs!
Healthy laze-arrested hands
With poor caged hearts!

IV
I am not telling you this
You’re looking at yourselves in me
And seeing what you are
I am but a mirror, opening myself to your ‘you’ viewing
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 7, 2019

INTIMIDATION STORY

Once tortoise befriended a snail
And they embarked on a loving tale
When storms did visit, tortoise snail shielded
When cars did bump, tortoise snail shielded
There wasn’t a thing in harm that could tortoise get
Snail just looked and began to fret
People sang of the great tortoise’s strength
And went ahead to shelter beneath its length
Snail felt stressed and strangely jealous
With time its feelings made it callous
Then it began to whisper to sprinkle bad rumours
To get tortoise tortured in weakness humours
All animals began to look for a battle
So they could wrestle tortoise for its mantle
So tortoise did leave the place for peace
And left all to live in peace
The day after, legs of sheep passed as usual
And felt a slime so unusual
It looked down; snail’s shell crashed into many a piece
Same spot but gone shade
Snail felt regret all too late
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 6, 2019

RHYTHMS OF HOME

I feel it
That yearning that won’t fit
That unsettling that won’t sit
That dream that won’t quit
Dissatisfactions that always hit
All those feelings threatening to wrestle me into doom’s pit

II
But when I, like a snail, the boarders cross
I feel like I’m carrying a loneliness cross
Wearing heaviness and a sense of loss
Thoughts of a chick straying from its hen me do toss
Stomach beings raising demonstrations oh so gross
So what is my mind’s missing boss?

III
It could be the songs in which I belong
It could be the culture in which I am strong
It could be the company where I feel among
It could be the fuss of the spiritual ding dong
It could be the love rhythms of the gong
It could be the battles we fight for long
It could be the lapses and all the wrong
Oh it could be the passions of our talking ding dong

IV
It could be the mother in all she older
It could be the father in all he older
It could be the uncles in all blossomed men
It could be the sisterhood in all the gals
It could be the brotherhood in all the pals
It could be the dust in all our past
It could be the rust in all our must
It could be the burst in all our hurts
It could be just the sounds of nature’s beaked jets

V
So I am glued
Glued and might be fooled
But stuck here in spirit
Stuck here where I fit
Up there in head room
Even when the body, like a vehicle, drives out
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 5, 2019

STUCK

We have lived
Lived through the dawn of our rise,
To the morning of our victory
And got stuck
Between the morning of our victory
And the growth of our rise
Why?

II
Blessed with suns unrivalled
I wonder how we’ve still not gotten there
There, where the suns of growth shine fair
Blessed with moons whipping darkness
I wonder why we aim not to dine
Dine at the tables of greatness and wine
That the eve of development serves
Why haven’t we?

III
We are getting wrinkled and still teething
Why are we nibɔing?
We are getting old but still toddling
Why are we numsaing?
We are getting fondled but still sleeping
Why are we junsɔbɔing?
Do we so love the dew of dawn
And not the fair rains of the night?

IV
Ngaaa, ngaaa, ngaaa
And our mouths still suckle from the blood and tears
Of the pains of our yesteryears

V
Childhood has its season
Once we overstay our welcome,
As we have,
We turn weeds
Weeds all vegetarians,
Including herbivores like goats and sheep and rabbits
Turn to eat at will
Even dogs mostly bite through us for strength
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 3, 2019

THE WOMAN

She is a she from a she through a he
She is a sea made of rivers no mouth can name
She is a sky with lightning and clouds
With suns and moons accompanied by stars even in rains

Her hands are healing
Her bosom is a comforter
Her shoulders strong to take in
Any hurdle thrown on her
Her head is a library of care and fair and competence and dignity
Her face is a mask of all things from good to mischievous
Her feet know no challenges
Her love is like a fountain
Flowing out and filling in

She is the sky
She is the earth
She is the sea

She is the pot whose water never runs dry

She is the trees
She is the air
She is the core of life’s pores

She is the woman!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 8, 2019

THIS STORY OF CAPABILITY (Crazy Stanzas)

The porcupine walked like the kqueeng of pride
Tongue-macheting and butchering lion
“You are like the foolish baboon
Who stays only in the thighs of trees
Pouring promises like rain
In an action of zero
Let me be
Let me be the kqueeng of this jungle
And see the change and peace and light and food
That will fall like manna from the juices of my capabilities”

II
And so all animals in the jungle hoped
Frowning on failures of lion
Hoping the great meeting day runs fast to them
So they could sweep him out like filth in River Tuse

III
Formulas poured from the tongue
And fell from the beak of porcupine
Like dew of dawn
Kissing and caressing dreams of all the living in the jungle
Until the meeting day arrived

IV
It didn’t take long
For all who were strong
To whisk the throne from the buttocks of lion
As the weak cursed
“Look into your promising tank
There sure is nothing but mosquitoes of disappointments
Biting our expectations and sucking them dry
As hunger hangs us on hangers of deception
Go with your failure and let the capable help us flourish”

V
Porcupine became the first Kqueeng of the jungle
The crown of the king and queen placed on his decorated head, then he saw stance did matter and differ in ruling

VI
Time traveled no long distance
Before the animals saw they erred
Rains stopped falling
Suns stopped shining
Air seldom blew
So trees became lean and sickly and bald
Leaves and flowers suffered burns and died
Rivers died and became evaporative ghosts
Leaving the jungle and inviting heat and thirst

VII
The animals rushed to the kqueeng
Who sat by the unquenchable river
Sipping as servants fan relaxation into the throne
Complains started falling like snow in winter
Then turned threats slowly turned into a frost bite
Before it could escalate into a demonstration
Arrows were shot into them
Killing many and planting fear in all
As their knees tasted sharp stones to plead for mercy

VIII
And so it was
That the jungle lost it all
Some animals praying for the next meeting
Which sat quietly in the far future
Some animals wailing in regret
Some animals fleeing to live
Some animals grumbling about their stupidity
Some animals acting stooges to be favoured and gifted by the kqueeng
Who lived up to the name
And always looked down to shame
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 2, 2019

THIS KINKY MESS

This kinky mess
Can turn one in many and many in one
This kinky mess
Stops blood in its painful oozing
Oh medicine on a head!
This kinky mess
Is a dress in the cold
And a disciplined disciple which listens to hands of its comb
When dressed, respecting scissors and making it easy for barbers

II
This kinky mess is not like ɛsrɛ,
Flowing on and whipping faces
Following the wind rather than their carriers
It is only natural that comb punishes heads for their keep
Every jewel needs that painful refinement
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © April 1, 2019

CAN’T FOLLOW

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

II
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

III
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?

IV
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

V
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

YOUR TRICKS

They are boiling, boiling like angry waters
From the pits of your stomach right up to the lid of your head

II
They are boiling, I know they are boiling
That rejection water I served in the calabash of your ego
Burns right through your throat
And is raising monstrous hatred
Boiling you unwholesomely whole
But please rest easy

III
If you take your time to look at it
What boils inside that being you are
Is like a Fante kenkey
The leaves of anger with spine of need
And the rubber of loss
Covering your supposed kenkey of love
Mr. Lover, please rest easy

IV
A man is a man who drinks from the calabash of rejection
And takes the stance of a handshake
Deciding between the paths of parting and persistence
Not the one who builds words into stones
To serve back through his catapult of bitterness
Thinking it salve on his sore ego
He is not a man who builds foot-soldiers to taunt
Thinking to show his clothes of a warrior
To cower pride into a fall in his palms

V
Let not those eyes see a weak damsel in my stand
I am Agowa’s Abena Amoafowaa Jemremedua
The fiery queen who never breaks in a bend
I am Sefa Mansa Tawiah
That third spirit protected by the spirits of nta
I am that she who sees through even the egoistic walls of Jericho
On manly nations, let not my silence you deceive
Your tricks are but amusement jokes
Luring me into a state of fun and ties-cutting
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 29, 2019

A HE IN A SHE

1a

A he is in a she as a she is in a he
A she is in a he as a he is in a she
Yolk and water, a blending cooker
So why can’t we all see?

1b
We have been long in this shuttle of prejudice
Which drove us through deserts of bitterness
On seas of blame-gaming
Right to this battlefield of loneliness
Making even the few odds,
Couples in brutal rings
When will we ever drive to the heaven of sense?

1c
We can live by the measuring ruler
On who is better by centimetres of gender
We can live with pillows of alienation
And pleasure ourselves with weirding of queering
We can build boarding communities to separate blues from pinks
Who loses in the end?

+
The empty world and lonely earth
Ridden by lice who live in the hair of Asaase Yaa
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © March 28, 2019