HERDSMEN

As you lead
…your flock to feed
And they follow
…through roads vast and narrow
Do you see their flesh as meat?
Do you think of them food?

II
They see only you
…and your moving steps
You’re their light
…their trusted guard
You’re their lord
…their hope restored
Still do you see
…them as your feeds?

III
They will eat
…even your poisoned food
…without a question
…or a drop of doubt
They will fight your fearsome battles
…and will kill
…in your humble name
You’re their emotional sky
…and a king so high
Still do you see
…them as your food?

IV
I so stand
…in questioning pity
But they don’t know
…or seem to care
I so see
…the tragic lead
But they live oblivious
…to the dangerous threats
…of your marked abbatoir

V
Why do I feel
…like your poor cattle
As I helplessly live
…in a chaotic lead?
Why do I tear up
…like a sad sad sky
As I see you relate
…to your subjective crew?
I guess I feel like a cow
…among the cattle of citizens
As we are led by political and religious herdsmen
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 24, 2019

LESSONS UNLEARNED

Once a jackal traveled to the land of lions
…in search of secrets which made them strong
…because its family continuously complained
…about the shame of scavenging
…and the grossness of vomit meals

II
Knowing it is unwanted in the lions’ den
The jackal hid in their nearby bushes
…but time did not travel far
…before it was caught
…and like a strange meal
…brought before the lion king to be caged
The first lesson sinking in the fear stricken mind of the jackal
…vigilance

III
The lions sat together
…with their lionesses
…who were the best hunters
…and were so noted
Each day saw a strict routine
Day as night for rest
Night as day for hunting
They never missed
…they never complained
…they never lied to skip, rain or storms
…they never fought on whose trip
The second lesson fell into the mind of the jackal
…discipline

IV
Whenever there was a sign of a stranger
They all came together to bell the danger
And worked like bulls to protect their territory
Marking none out for death
After a conquer
…they all celebrated and cheered
Another lesson rained in the heart of the jackal
…strong defence

V
A lion got wounded
…and was brought in the den
All brought bits and pieces
…to feed the unfortunate
…tending to it, looking for herbs that worked
…until its fit
Writing bold lessons
…loyalty and intelligence

VI
They caged some of their hunt
…like the proverbial ant
…and trained their cubs
…like their tomorrows existed not
…they planned their territorial hunts
…and worked through their dangers
…before their hunts
The jackal saw many lessons
…future planning
…preparing young as tomorrow’s old
…tacticianism before practicality

VII
In the rain
…their caves never broke in
…in their play
…their practice never slowed
…a lesson of strong foundation
…and resilience

VIII
The jackal was seen as gross
…and was spared to go after vomiting and eating
Its family listened to all it had seen
…and learned
But were never ready to wake to work
…they pointed at each other for the start of change
…always looking out for a ready kill
…they continously fed their young their vomit
…and ate the rest when their young got satisfied
They were quick to push their own
…to be eaten by their gluttony, their corruption and their fears
…just to be safe
And their territory was never safe
…dangerous animals visited for their kills

IX
Till this day
The nation of jackals live on carcasses
…of the strong lions
…always crying for a future strong
…while sleeping on their strengths
…fingers of blame pointing at each other
…eyes of jealousy forcing legs to run into living
…within beasts for crumbs of carcasses
This is the story of unlearned lessons
…breathing in tears of dying
…into nonexistence
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 23, 2019

TACTICAL

Strain to gain
…or main to reign
Don’t-
…chain to cane
Don’t-
…drain to pain
There is a rain called karma
It holds a hellish hammer
It hits and hears no “Mama”
And pities none’s sad murmur
Know the end of a con is vain
…it is not like gold which refines to shine
…it is like food eaten into diarrhea-like defecation
Unpleasantness is its clothing
Shame
…is its make-up
Hatred
…is its cologne
And regret
…is its self lashing whip
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 22, 2019

GOD IN NATURE

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

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

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

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

LEACHES OF OURSELVES

All that far far call
…from our rich filled hall
…is what causes our fall
…as others stand tall
All the come go quality whores
…which are rooted at our shores
…eating deep into our own talents’ core
…is what is giving us incompetent chores

II
Why a Sikaman boss
…is made a horse
…ridden by disrespect
…paying for familiarity
…knocks the light out of my sun

III
Many on the land
…climb ladders and ladders of knowledge
…reach qualification’s dock
…but like cob webs
…are swept off lists
…and replaced with even nkyɛnkyɛmas from yonder spheres
…because nature’s natural colour difference
…make scraps from afar more attractive
…than prized minerals from near
Sad

IV
We need to plug our senses
…into a wisdom socket
To know where we stand
…and how to band
…in order to put a hand on hand
…to rise from our fall into a stand
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 19, 2019

SUGAR DADDY

Sugar is the home of sweets
And calls many feet
…at a sight

II
It is like a magnetic attraction
It get many eye fame
…leg fences
…hand worships
…and tongue adoration
Though too much of it
…can take stomachs to schools of discomfort
Sugar never lacks ant

III
That is why I laugh like a maniac
Seeing you clinging to that sugar
…already in a bought container
…with a legitimate spoon

IV
By all means lick the outskirts
The lid seems perfectly tight
…and will not let you in
…without a crash
So madam
…your happy harm
…which is a sham
…in your scam
…will definitely turn stray bullet to hit you
…at your sugaring road side
And daddy will not be in a hurry
…to turn surgeon in your save
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 18, 2019

SELF CONFIDENCE

There is nothing beautiful on a being
…like clothes of confidence
…in jewelry of humility
…and shoes of ambition

II
Low confidence in a self
…is poison
…which when left for long
…can kill opportunities
…and dreams

III
There is no human flaw
…without a brandable window
Self doubt is like bile around liver
…it has its responsibilities
…of balancing passions in ambitions
…and pointing to successful yous
…for your learning zooms

IV
So wear it
…your clothes of confidence
Enhance it
…with jewelry of humilty
…add some cologne of smiles
And face each day
…with its attraction
Pulling awesomeness to you
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 17, 2019

THE LEAVES

The leaves walked from Tamale
…to Wamale
Shiiii, zzziiiiii, shiiii, zziiiiii
…like haunting ghosts in humming hymns

II
The leaves walked from Tamale
…to Wamale
…happily crying from tiredness and imprisoned hard labour

III
The leaves living like locusts in loss
…a beautiful sight for angels
…who have forgotten their God’s commandments
Billions of tears are carried in sacks of fears
…watering the grounds for hovering hounds
Suns and rains and harms and drains
…in worker droughts and famine
The leaves walked from Tamale to Wamale
…then Wamale to Tamale
…Sule sees the unending journey
…but keeps working
…knowing closed mouth means hopelessness
…till homegoing
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 14, 2019

THE HORRIBLE WIRING

The trick stands out in our electricity
The harm is boldened
…in our preferred pharmacy
The ligi, with its silent lɔgɔ, shines out
…in our religion
The cat in our education
…only purrs to manipulations
The con in our economy acts star
…on our impoverished stage
The fence in our defence
…has insecured securities
…who allow all our fears easy passes
As the polls in our politics
…use their cables
…to wire them all

II
Why do we keep the whips in our voices
…when our needs are sacked from our choices?
Why do we bark without biting
…when our teeth are made for protection?
Why do we easily empty memories
…when victimizers become bold
…with their every victory?
Why do we act indifferent
…when the axes in our taxes
…continue to chop off our trees of comfort?

III
It is time to tire toes
…of our thumb-sents turned foes
It is time to keep wake
…so none our development coffers rake
We are in the middle of the change we need
…and its devils in pampering
Let’s cut them down
…and battle through to change
To be changemakers
…for our coming young
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 15, 2019

HOW MUCH I LOVED YOU

I stabbed my fears
…and murdered my weaknesses
I suffocated my ambitions
…and poisoned my dreams
…clutching care like fresh eggs
…all to hold your life
That is how much I loved you

II
I climbed arrogance
…with the sword of insistence
I swam in pity
…with hands of determination
I flew in abnormalities
…on rumours of witchcraft
I trained like a soldier
…and buried all tiredness
Just to keep your life
That is how much I loved you!

III
When I thought of the culture
…which called many a vulture
…for your living structure
…because of your ill stature
I smoked weed of defiance
…killing all wicked thoughts around you
…with guns of law
…and emotions of common sense
That is how much I loved you

IV
I never thought
…for a brief day
That you’d be lost
…and I’d stay
I never envisioned
…for a brief second
That you’d be gone
…and I’d be here
I am now like a can
…with fountains of tears
…in bright bright clothes
I’m now like a lost lioness
…in a warrior zone
…without claws
…without teeth

V
Time is burying your memories in dusts of forgetfulness
…but a little air of rememberance
…dusts the pain and hurts clean
…with your giggles echoing sorrows
…in caves of loss
You’ll forever remain my cross of loss!
You’ll forever remain my emotions’ boss!
You’ll forever be that boy at the peak of my love
…one I spared no sweat to dig flutters
…at his sight!
For you made me
…and broke me
…and killed me
…and planted me
Only for me to germinate into newness
…your absence living in my roots
…never to part
…never ever to be forgotten
Aduse-Poku Ahwinie!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 14, 2019
In memory of my Kwadjo Opoku (Sept. 5, 2011 – Dec. 10, 2018)

HIGH HUSTLE

Harriet has heaped hits
…from her husband
…into houses of hurts
Her hostile home
…humming hopelessness
…in her haunted hawking heart

II
How hollow is her hugless heart?
How harmed is her hustling head?
Holler Harriet to hail her hobbles
…to let us heckle her horrible husband
…who has hijacked her happiness and is
…howling hysterically like a hurricanic horse

III
Hurts are no heritage
There is hired help
…in here’s honour harvest
…today
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 13, 2019

IF YOU MISS A NEEDED HIT…

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

II
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

III
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

IV
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

MIND FARMS

The mind is a fertile land
…in the head of every being
Plant weeds of hurts
…and reap seeds of hatred
…with its shadow of cruelty
…and spirit of harm
Plant loving flowers with caring fragrance
…and harvest nectar of faith
…scent of love
…beauty of tenderness
…colours of trust
…thorns of care
…providing fences for your safety

II
The mind is a most fertile land
Plant seeds of hurts
…and like false yams
…harvest a drum full of hatred
…with roots that never really die out
Plant seeds of love
…and harvest a drum full in return
Birds of circulation peck on each
…buying for you hatred
…or love in others

III
Like a skilled farmer
…looking forward to a bountiful harvest
…which will feed nations
Have the tool of care
…in selecting seeds for planting
…in the farm of all minds
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 11, 2019

WHEN YOUR BILLY TURNS SILLY

Your hop
…from down to top
Scratching itches in ditches
…pounding needs of hungry beads
…forcing paths in innocent deserts
Leaving no skirt towns
…trouser cities
…knicker corners
…and even jumpsuit capitals
…unexplored
Is a piling crime which will definitely meet
…its regret cop
…in a troubled future

II
You pick the best gems and flush
…them down ghostly gutters
You get angels and pump them with demonic hurts
…always soiling the pious into a coiling
I hope you know time’s footsteps are without
…remote control?

III
You are like a room full of grains that
…wandering peacocks come to peck
……and leave like wind carried leaves
…even those like Mahama’s Guinea fowls
……who swallowed millions
……and embarked on a one way flight to Burkina
…….have pieces of you
To your thankful thrills

IV
There will come a time
…your horn trap will only stop chaff
You’ll then wish time had a turning-back steering
But that lateness in your future
…is a bond you’re signing now
…with your wasteful chase
…and irresponsible craze
And that future will be when your Billy will turns silly
…even in your own remembering
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 8, 2019

GET THIS STRAIGHT

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

II
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?

III
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

WHEN YOUR TATTERS CHATTER

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

II
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

III
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

GOLD BETWEEN MY THIGHS

There is gold between my thighs
…gold I will hold until I’m told of its shine
…by a giggling sun
There is gold between my thighs
…gold I won’t have sold to the cold to mould
…into having me poled in penury
There is gold between my thighs
…gold…

II
I will refine this gold with learning
…lighting the fire of knowledge to turn its colour bold
I will shape this gold with tools of patience
…and hard work
Until I learn to use it
…for the product of my fancy
It could be a chain
…to proudly adorn societal neck
…till all teeth get decked out in pride
It could be a watch
…to confidently tell the world how time walks
It could be a crown
…to be bowed to
…in honour and love
It could be handcuffs
…to arrest all follies in my bright corner
…pathing safety for incoming generations
It could be an armour
…to protect my nation
…from all that may mar its sovereignty
It could be a sword
…to kill off illiteracy
…raising the flag of wisdom in valour
It could be a pen
…to be an accomplished soldier in great books
It could just be a ring
…to begin a smile to birth greatness and happiness
There is gold between my thighs
…gold…

III
I am in no hurry to burn it black
… I am in no haste to waste its shine
I will swerve the bug of curiosity
…until I get to the city of maturity
Working on its shine nights after days through to dawns
Until it is ready
…to dine with the sun
Yes, until it is ready to dine with the sun
…this gold…
…this gold between my thighs
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July, 4, 2019
Inspired by Dr. Mrs. Georgina Oduro’s study titled “Gold Between My Thighs”. Dedicated to all girls around the world. There is a beautiful world out there, just work hard to blend the beauty of womanhood with respect leading to happiness.

BUS PREACHER

I don’t know the trick
…in your bus stage acting
Well, that is what this looks to me

II
I don’t know the import
…of your killer-eardrums-shouting
It is oh so a turn off
…selling headaches to many with hurdleaches

III
I don’t know the style of your hygiene
…your arm’s pit has a unique stench
…which is nose wrenching
Do we need to talk about the mouth
…whose spittle shower many
…who the fear of your God cower
…into shut ups?
Maybe not

IV
Please buy some sense from your knowledge book
Acting suntidua through a disgust
…on “anti-Christs” like me
…surely takes us
…to no roundabout of repentence
We don’t need a voice whip
…in this enclosed space
…where even a whisper echoes in multiplicity
Preaching should be like a soothing balm
…or a tutoring pointer
Not a wɔ-wo-kɔn-akyi-kɔ- tipae-mu

V
And oh, the call for offertory
…do it tactfully
…with less manipulation
We know it will all go to nourish you
…for selling us seen and unseen sicknesses
And “blessing” our noses with your fine perfume
You aim to preach and not to leach Mr. Preacher
…that is what you need to learn
…from your Biblical teacher
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©July 3, 2019

BE RADICAL

Let
…let white supremacists sleep white
…wake black
…with their white winnership in mind
And let their mirrors tell them
…tell them about the change

II
Let
…let black stooges sleep with their black begging-pillows
And wake white
…with their marked hunt in mind
…only to be told by their mirrors
…of the change
…at the brink of stepping out

III
Let
…let these two meet
Each seeing what they treasure on another
…and what they fear in their announcing minds

IV
And let them view them
…let them feel their own heartbeats
…let them beg themselves to settle
Let them cry out loud to sorries
Let them tear up for each other on each other
So this label coloring will end
…end for real living to begin
…in co-habitation
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 1, 2019

GOOD MEN

Did I come to the market late?
I must have
…considering the rotten goods
…waiting for selection
…or buy
Hurtful

II
What will rotten vegetables and foodstuffs fetch?
…Stale taste?
…Stomach ache?
…Running stomach?
…Food poisoning?
Yet see them scattered in near filth
…on my disappointing market

III
What will a polluted goat fetch
…in a long term petting?
Illnesses?
…Worry?
…Mistrust?
…Heartaches?
…A possible death?
Yet see it parading in annoying pumɛɛs
…caring not about the disgust on my face

IV
What will a rabid dog fetch?
…An unhealable bite?
…A tetanus injection?
…A possible loneliness?
…A living fear?
Yet see it barking without backing off
…seeing the fear boldly written with my countenance

V
What will a sneaky snake fetch me?
…A lonesomeness?
…A fearful and poisonous bite?
…An annoying hissing?
…A hide and seek in time wasting?
Yet it hisses through the horror
…written in my eyes

VI
Like normal goods a market brackets
…they seem to be all that are left
…for a pick
Some getting in the way
…and staining clothes
…ruining footwear with their stinking droppings
Where did all of them go?
…The hybrid ones
…with freshness
…unflawed colourfulness
…healthness
…normal fragrances
…promising delicacies
…with many a touch of surprises?
It sure is hard
…to shop in a near evening
Truly, almost all good goods never wait till sundown!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 30, 2019

BRUSH PUSH

I saw you bare your fangs
…and try to hang
…when your friend’s success bang rang
Why?
Hush your rush and brush your push

II
Your current location
…is someone’s hopeful destination
Your hopeful destination
…is someone’s takeoff
These are facts fate feeds
…beyond understanding
So hush your rush and brush your push

III
Many dangers walk the land
Many dangers swim the sea
Many dangers fly the sky
There is nothing like heaven in a climb
So hush your rush and brush your push

IV
Needless competition is a bane in life
Your date can rate your state
…only if fate allows
Like ahenfo kyinyɛ
…no matter how vast they cover
…some surely will be behind others
…in sizes
So hush your rush and brush your push
Showering with contentment
…and soap of discipline
…at every taken step
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 29, 2019

CROWNS AND CLOWNS

Now that there are adulterations of clowns
…in the prestigious group of crowns
This word needs to get to towns
So, in knowing differences, ups won’t turn downs

II
If they use no power
…to shower
…and get confidences to cower
If they use no prestige as plugs
…to harvest unwilling hugs
If they use no fame
…to tame
…and heartlessly try to shame
If they use no filthy forces
…to act like cruel bosses
Then they are real crowns and not cloned clowns

III
It is laughable
How real regals are affable
As counterfeited ones act wolves
…hoping all else turn sheep
…or shy doves
…to feed their hunger to sleep
It is sickening
…that mere weak stones act prized in sale
…when real diamonds silently sail
…on humility’s hail
It is hard to watch vultures wear crowns
…in the gowns of rotten clowns
When eagles soar in to-die-for personalities
…even among fowls
It is sad
…when the world slaps
…with an anti-climax
…at the beginning of its classy story
Where many eyes seek
…crowns
…and painfully find them hidden
…under many clowns

IV
Discernment is a necessary tool
…in spotting fools
…posing to buy your trust
…to turn you into a bull
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 28, 2019

A CITIZEN OF IMPOSSIBILITY

See
… 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

II
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

III
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

IV
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

ONE WORLD

There are
…Souths
…Easts
…Wests
In all Norths

II
There are
…Norths
…Easts
..Wests
In all Souths

III
There are
…Norths
…Souths
…Wests
In all Easts

IV
There are
…Norths
…Souths
…Easts
In all Wests

V
Even a room owned by one
…has its North, South, East and West
So why the pointers of division
…marring our visions?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 25, 2019

PITY THEM

It was a sigh that ended in a cry
…seeing you recall the bye
…of your youth’s fly
…in a plane so high
…into memories’ tie

II
Now you face the court of eyes
All pupils dilate in your fear
Because the clothes of beauty
…have fled
…leaving the monstrous wrinkles
…which hid in wait of time
They forget they wear same clothes
That time tick tocks to take off

III
I don’t know what turned you into the ‘witch’
…they seek on their wish-stakes:
The hair which has lost its colour?
…The skin which has lost its tightness?
…The breasts which have lost their stand?
The legs which have lost their strength?
The back which has lost its hold?
The hands which have lost their firmness?
Whatever it is
…wipe those tears from your heroic eyes
For you have tasted flowerhood
…bloomed and fruited
…been green through yellowing to browning
A blessing not all tongues will taste
So please let your fear turn to pity
…for them

IV
I hope fate shows their olds
…in the mirror of their future
…as their youths to time are sold
I pray to see them this bold
In their wrinkly cold
As their horns develop in age’s monstrosity
And their youngs put them in courts of witchcraft

V
So blessed one,
…cry not
…fret not
Let sadness climb a bad apata
…your resilience in the right spots
Only criminals act scared
…in a stoning shed
Age should be an advantage
…and not a sewage
…for unthinking brutes!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June, 24, 2019
Dedicated to Sisi Ewura Adwoa and all aged women placed in awkward situations because of unfair accusations.

MOUTH MACHINATIONS

Man your mouth
…to mum your mess
Many mechanics muster mockery
…in marking mouth monsters with many a mar

II
When Akosua Akonfem
Chirped about her escapades
…in her drunkenness
Yaw Akoko crowed it loudly
…the next day
…to wake the whole village
Oh Odomamkomah!
She wore her room as an attire
…refusing to take it off during the day
…in her hide and seek game with embarrassment
Until she connived with the dark
…to flee this village

III
Let’s not go far
Remember Yaw Badu?
That man whose mouth was used
…as the punching bag of Kofi Duro
Because he became the parrot who sang
…about his supposed many affairs
…to their church choir
…who in turn turned up the melody after a church service
…to lavender Kofi with disgrace
Ah, that one koraa,
…was it verified that Kofi was a womanizer?
Ei! Look at me too o!

IV
Let’s take Papa Azambila
That foreigner who stood in a secret hole
…to dirtily rap about his feeding hands
…boasting superiority
…bastardizing those hardworking hands in inferiority
By the time he got home
His bragging had developed legs
…to walk to tell his hands
Isn’t he now languishing in hunger?

V
Many have bought spaces for themselves in prisons
…because wɔn ano ati free
Many have harvested hatred from lovers
… because wɔn ano ati free
Many have killed innocents
…and are living with many a guilty conscience
…because wɔn ano ati free
Many have turned mice
…being hunted down by cats
… because wɔn ano ati free
Many live like fearful ghosts scaring off good hosts
…because wɔn ano ati free
So man your mouth
…just work on the brakes of your mouth
…to have a free heart
…and a clear head
…always
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 23, 2019

BEYOND SHAME

I grew up
…a blew up
…in a shrew strap
Drinking shame brewed before birth
Eating discomforts whose cooking crews
…knew their hurtful ingredients
So shame became a mountain
…I had to beat
…to survive
Why won’t I be beyond shame?

II
I have crossed the bridge
…where I shiver in front of Asante kwadu
I boldly demand for Bono brɔdeɛ
When my needs come to feed
What is the importance of age
…with no stage of advantage
…and a fear stricken cage
…set by society to still heap shame
…upon the shame youth serves in these dark parts?
I cleared that ridiculousness long ago

III
So serve a heartthrob
…or feed a headthrob
There will be no room for a pleasure rob
And you have the ticket to shout outloud
While shame bathes you publicly
…see if it can take one step in my direction,
I have long crossed the bridge of “be careful”
…now standing on the pate of “I don’t kɛ”
So I only yield in to the complaints of my body
…now that no ngɛɛ calls my gbɛɛ
And so you know-
…babying man pestles
…is a hypocritical trait I weeded out
…long before my bloom
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 22, 2019

FIRE BENEATH ASHES

From far and far
…flimsy fleas
…forced fiercely in fences
…flip flaps to fires’ fuss
Forking fins
…filing fears
…facing the future

II
Baking in breakages
…burning in bossing barns
Burns bellowing in bellies of bodies
…bolden in brights
…beneath their-

III
…Ashes
Allowing arms to air
…attracting arrows in alms
Atrociously aiming attacks
…in apt adrenalines

IV
Fear the fallen
Believe the broken
Appease the attacked

V
For they are-
Fire
… Beneath
… Ashes
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 21, 2019

AN ODE TO MOCK KINGS IN GROANS

There are birds who visit
…in blessful transit
There are cool airs
…which bless our flopped fairs
…only to pass us on to brutal bottled beers
There are suns
…whose warmth we worship
…but their steps never sync ours
…so we’re always left behind
Think of these
…really deeply

II
Cherish the times recorded in your history
…or perish in wants long rotten in impossibilities
Live the memories
…few have in luck
Or sulk in sores your regrets
…keep digging into self hatred
Bɔɔla birds who get the privilege
…of flying a time with eaglets
…before their full blossoms
…must at least own their stories

III
It is a fact
…that although you are a golden ceiling on another’s sky
…you were dirt in my
…uncompleted mansion
It is a truth
…that lionesses mate lions
…and not dogs
It is clear
…your legs couldn’t keep up in closeness
…with the hare-like fire
…which burned the sands
…to carve the fine you so whine
…to now own
Let sense descend on you
…to look south in my northness
If that is what is eating deep into your hurts

IV
There are treasures we get but see not
…until their flight
…to others’ ownerships
There are priceless gems
…which act stones to be had
…in our uninterestedness
…oh how we always curse us in their shines
…from other quarters!
There are ails which kill us
…through “had I knowns”
But just as dead beings have no turn backs
…we need a knowing
…of the living deads
…in our lives
Those we can never ever return to us
So we can take our past
…off the fires of our yearning present
…to at least cool needs into satisfactory smiles
…instead of boiling in broken bitterness
So let your memories serve as payment
For the can’t-have you so “need” now
Isn’t there a saying
…a vehicle whose seats you’ve tasted
…hurt you not in a leave behind?
Ha!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©June 20, 2019

BUNSOKROM

Serenity swims like swans
…serenading spirits seeking sanes
…soothing sanes with sores
…sweeping sufferings with sobbing stucks
…from souls

II
I am wondering
…why guy-gun growers
…with their sweetening atadwes
…are the going givings
…on hawking pates
…of every trader

III
Do you have ready restrooms
…in the ayaase of your blooms
…needing erected bodies of pestled visitors?
Or are your ears filled
…with your earth’s potency
…in strengthening man-sticks
…that you’ve mastered the art
…of studying the roles of your shrub roots
…and trees
…to get the waist wakers to hold hands
…in sure works?
You sure unassumingly lie like innocents
…in the veined hair of Asaase Yaa
…by the busy roadside
And I have been so fooled
…years on end
…till this day
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 18, 2019

MAKE NO MISTAKE

Winners without woes
…are like boxers who have never tasted punches
The world was built
…for the punch takers
…students of problems
…truck pushers of hurdles
…curious travellers slapped with many shut outcomes
To find their ways through the puzzle of suffering
…to success
…always armoured with determined spirits
…questioning souls
…and fatigued bodies

II
Make no mistake
The smiles that flash in front of the cameras
…the shines that rush onto their time eras
…their words which swallow questions fired
…their every gait
Form part of their sweatfully cooked beings

III
Open your eyes and look well at the sea
…many rivers
…travelled many miles
…to help it full up
So be no stagnant water
…complaining in struggling gramophones
You can at least scratch to break through routes
…to explore options
To lift yourself up
…and be part of the loved
……the loved you so jealously adore
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 17, 2019

HEARTS AND FATHERS

Fathers are not the feathers so fluffy
…with sperm supermakets
Forcing their wares in buildings
…without paying their rent

II
Fathers are not mouths
…with boastful words
…which wake from useless tongue beds
…to order hands to tap their chests
…to brag and drag fame of a built human
…to their cruel stages

III
Fathers are farmers who plant,
…water,
…clear challenging weeds,
…fertilize,
…fight off pests,
And harvest contentment
…when their farms flourish

IV
So Kakaaku,
…go away with your mmusuo
…of calling yourself paapa
…when many unformed bodies curse you
…from gutters with murdering stench
And many destroyed wombs kill you in their deserts
…of barreness

V
Kwame Aponkye
…please shut up
…so you don’t wake the wrath of women
…whose sweat fill seas of suffering
…in tending to your abandoned seeds

VI
Yao Dzakpasu
…don’t even show your face on this day
…lest, your denial breaks from the anger tree
…to flog you like its bothersome pest

VII
This day is not for your likes
It is for the real workers on the field
And for the great hearts
…who tend to some of your mess
…while you annoyingly dress
…like over bloated peacocks
Why some of you own sacks filled with lives,
…only Otwereduampong will know
In your next lives
…you must be born as weeds
…with no chance of choosing shamelessness
…in your built houses of cruelty
You rotten nuts destroying soups of fatherhood!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 16, 2019

FATHERS

Fathers
…fearless farmers who ferry us onto
…fine fields
…to flow in growth

II
Fathers
…fine feathers who fly us farther
…from our fears
…to grow in strength

III
Fathers
…frames which face forces
…flagging our favorites
…Knights in our dreadful nights!
We hail your wondrousness
…in our celebration of you
…this and every day
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 16, 2019

ANOTHER’S BEARED ON FIRE?

You sit there
Calling on what is and not fair
Tagging others queer
Pray problems you never steer

II
A bee in another’s bite
…draws laughter
…wait until it turns to you
You follow the sorrow of another
…and party hard today

III
Know troubles hawk like traders
…in their many faces
No house escapes their visits
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 15, 2019

FAKE FLOWERS

How can you compare fake flowers
…to the real?
…When the latter are durably made
…to stand robotically time’s rotten test
…devoid of feelings?

II
How can you compare touch up and real?
When Odomankomah himself made the former
Is it because the expiration tag draws its line
…in clarity?

III
Didn’t you see Adwoa Tiger
…before her now?
You know
…you know her buttocks
…which now looks like the Kwahu Mountains
…was like pan traa
You know
…you know her breasts
…which now look like standing pawpaws
…were like beaten flat bread
You know
…you know her tiny waist
…was like many folded mats
…each complaining by flapping
…at her every body shake
…competing with her shoulders
And her thighs
…weren’t they almost like her legs?
…They now look like talking singers
…with her every step
Have all her alterations canceled God’s original sculpting of her
…in your mind?

IV
Are your senses numb from an artificial bug?
Can’t you see she went to a body carpenter
…to saw
…plain
…cut and join her parts to reglow?
And check her red carpeting pictures
…as compared to her home casuals
…don’t you see the work of a body painter on her body’s display?
…Fake eye lashes showing the “wo na” sign
…insulting the Most High with her every blink
Bold colours
…sitting on pouting lips
…some riding on the back of her eyes
…like demonic knights in blinking gallops
And paints
…plastering smooth her uneven skin
Gyata claws
…suffocating her mouse chewed nails
And her nkuri-nkuri hair
…skillfully concealed under some dead Indian woman’s hair
Where did I go wrong to stand a comparison
…with a living caricature?
… I mean a human picture parody
…your pressure of beauty definition manufactured?

IV
Please
…worship in her temple all you want
…but make me no dirt
…with her artificial build
I have known suns and rains and airs
…and tasted days
…which threw me on months
…which in turn threw me onto years
Each pulling my skin to a fall
…a graceful fall
I have no shame to show
…only blessings
And I’ll be damned
…so very damned
If I stand you looking down
…on my setting sun
…as it throws its beautiful glow
…into a bye
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 12, 2019

HEARTBEATS

I feel
…I feel your finger-breaths
…counting your heartbeats in seconds
…holding mine to sync yours
I easily count your every blink

2.
I know
… I know every corner of your body
…just as an explorer and her familiar map
…and I know your body rap
…the sounds of your goosebumps
…the horn of your coming

3.
I love
… I love the feel of your skin
…the crown of your king
…the ring of your whole
…the line of your hidden hesitation
…the shape of your mouth
…the nape of your south
…the wriggle of your tickle
Oh the shine in your smile
…and the melody in your laughter

4.
Your soul Bluetooths me your distress
…and your happiness
Your spirit text-messages me your needs
…and your givings
Your body Whatsups me your yearnings
…and your earnings
Your head emails me your thoughts
…and your lots
Your eyes tweet me your love
…and your care
So what can I do?

5
We seem like a pair of peas in a pod
We seem like a twin tuber on a cassava stick
We are like same keys on a keyholder
We seem like a happy picture in a skilled painting
But the closer we are
…the harder we bleed
…the harder we bleed
…the weaker we wane
…the weaker we wane
…the sicker we become
A love like death in a far beauty
…and a close ugliness
Oh how sad
…sad that this head
…holds the reigns of her heart
And whips it to a stop
…always
…at the peak of surrender
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 11, 2019

MUNAFIKIS

Wait and check!
Is she in yet?
She might be
…with her grains of gossips
…on her public pan
Pleading patronizers perfect or porting
Akeka-muna-
…fiki, fiki, fiki, fiki

II
Wait and survey!
Is he in yet?
He must be
…with his Nsawam Road mouth
…and Tema Motorway tongue
…where no vehicular news escapes passage
…before reaching destinations
…beyond his Accra sphere
…safely or otherwise
Nseku-nsheku!
… Hwirim hwirim hwrim hwirim!

III
Their talents are so amazing!
How they grow their digital eyes to see beyond all
…painting scenes to be beyond perfect,
How they expand their eardrums
…from the normal to that of elephants
…hearing breaths of falling pins,
How they discipline their toes
…to soundlessly carry their bodies
…in Inspector Bediako skills
Beat me all the time!

IV
They sure endure impure and pure
…they sure need cure in law and lure
They sure conjure
…the there, unthere and dead
They sure can build
…other skins to fit
They definitely are rumournisters
…no rumour runway knows not their touches
They sure endure impure and pure

V
Check your grounds
…before opening the doors of your mouth
You know the human Bluetooths
…always on in work
Scan your near to clear the hear fear
The Zenders don’t care about your privates
…much less your publics
Those human tetɛphones
…are spirits in myths
…moving through unsent human veins
They sure are
…ghosts who exist within our midst
And you so know it
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 10, 2019

IN OUR WAR

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

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

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

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

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

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

FREEDOM

Let us use the pot of sense
…to go fetch the river of knowledge
…for the dreaded visitor called relativity
…is coming with his trick sticks
…anuanom

II
A chicken caught in the evil forest
…and kept under the umbrella of an armpit
…might be a lucky one no matter the dancing heat
…and aromatic stench
Why?
…Because it can be meal for a thousand and one
…of forest mouths

III
So find no fault in freedom
…if you’ve not drunk from the sense pot
But know,
…there are sanes in freedom
…still, there are chains
There is a beauty in freedom
…still, there are the uglies
There is liberty in freedom
…still there is anarchy
So vary in candid, our caught and left be
For human freedom is honey with beedom
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 8, 2019

ƐBRƆ

Sucking sights
Sulking steps
Whirling walks
Sickening stomach
Headaches holding hammer
…hitting my head
Why do you do this to yourself?

II
Didn’t you tell me?
Didn’t you tell me
…forgetfulness resided in its potion?
Didn’t you assure me?
Didn’t you assure me the hurdles
…will fold their mats
…and leave my body?
So why are headaches adding to my hurdleaches?

III
Wɔfa Badu, be brave and break out of the bottle
Shame aims its spear
…when your consciousness reappears
And you become a peacock
…who acted pig in unconsciousness
Your dirty clothes serving as hard evidence
…getting your guilt gun loaded
…to shoot your ego
…followed by your self esteem

IV
Just break free
Break free from the bottle
Which kneads you into a shame so lame
…and bakes you in its stomach
…to tropi you into a nothing

V
The claws of your nsa lord is more fearful
…than the paws of a lion
Stop being its game o Wɔfa Badu!
Because your schooling
… I know
…will give a failing certificate
…at your graduation in life
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 7, 2019

POWER

Power pulls persons
…with pure promises
…from pious paths
…to perishings

II
Sad
…since sincerities stick to see
Sick
…since supporters stand in sures
Shocking
…since softened sardines turn sharks to shred

III
Like lost leaks
…lookers learn in leans
…then learn to leach
…in launching leagues longingly latented

IV
Poor prisoners priding in pens!
Sorry saints sinking in sins!
Lazy lakes locked by leaves!
A custody chaotic!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 6, 2019

YOUR FEATHERS

As I look through this glass of ridiculousness
And chuckle through this surprise of your shamelessness
I’m left with no words to describe your kind

II
Your ego sits on the highest stool of your king
Thanks to your born feathers of riches
So you call that sweet soul –
…your dog
And call those skilled hands-
…your foot mat
Now you want to employ me as what?
…your decorative cup?
And you pride at your bargain?

III
Take off your feathers of wealth
…one at a time
And get into the clothes of your dog
If you’re able to contain even three feet
…in your foot mat’s stead
I will consider you
…a germinating human bean
…oh you were expecting a being?
Agya!

IV
If you’re born on an anthill
…treat not those who need to dig clay
…as your fooling tools
They’ll live way better
…in thrills
…in awesomeness
…in do-it-your-selfness
If they so wish
So use your wealth to buy some manners
From the store of common sense
You nyansazeroist!
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 5, 2019

DRESS TO BE ADDRESSED

Daring to dress to draw darts
…to get drawns to drool
…needs a different discipline
For doolittles will drool
…maybe dent while drafting
So carry your cunny in what your hurry can marry

II
If you flaunt to haunt
…the haunted will fight
…a flight for the hots
…a hump in a fit
Because eyes can look
…but can’t keep
…minds surely will know and can’t hoard
…bodies surely will need
…and will need the needs to feed
Even in cases where fear blocks
…mouths might mount mild moans
So carry your cunny in what your hurry can marry

III
It is a stubborn itch that calls for a sore through a scratch
It is a smelly sore that calls for a hot balm
…and or flies
Overscented nectar hunts noses
…from far and wide
Just like stinking corpses call vultures
So carry your cunny in what your hurry can marry

IV
There is no hungry mouth
…whose hand will see a ripe fruit
…in a careless desert
…and leave it be
So carry
…by all means do carry what you must
…but your dos must embrace the don’ts
…they exhume
…from the buried coffins of desire
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 4, 2019

CAUGHT

You can step on charcoal unlighted
…and crush its darks
…showing the sameness of its skin and intestines
But prepare for the flaming coal!

II
You can smooch the cat
…hold its mouth and throw it off
…sack it up and hit it dead
…into your meat
But prepare for the lion
…even worse, the mothering lioness!

III
It is only in the river you can swim naked
…with no scalding
Try soaking in the boiling drum
…mating fire
…heating its spittle

IV
You’re naught but a bloated ego!
You’re naught but a lost pride!
You’re naught but a fool bought
…with its own fooling currency
If you feel too wise
…you definitely will one day greet a goat
…at the full glare of your grinning enemies
Imagine the flashes of your bragging in your mind
…as you look behind to meet their ridiculing view
…and there and then, the goat responds
…pumɛɛɛ!
Ajei!
…that will hurt
…sores on soul
You know those never heal
…right?
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 3, 2019

VINDICTIVE

He wanted his rod
…in her pod
…thrusting in “Oh my Gods”
And couldn’t, so got bored
…and bitterness stored
…to be dished out when he could afford

II
The perfect time came
When he saw her hassled
…by the bow legged man
He watched as she struggled like a fowl
…almost caught as the val in a festi
She called for help
…but he just folded his arms in a relaxation watch
Using all her strength to push him,
…the bow legged man fell and comatosed
…to her horror and his shock
He then acted shadow under the dark

III
Handcuffers got her
The court ordered for proof
…or she forfeits her comfortable roof
So she mentions his name as her witness
He was brought in
…his confidence holding a vindictive machete
He readily murdered her innocence
…in cold blood
None saw the cruel dancing victory
…on his eyeballs
All they saw was her fear at ‘being caught’
…when her soul was only mourning her innocence

IV
That was how
Adwoa Menkah ended up a prisoner
…for life
After the bow legged man died
And Kusi vanished
…after the trial
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 2, 2019

YOU DREAM

You’re a dream
…a dream I don’t want to soil
…with the touch of reality
You’re a stream
…a stream I don’t want to swim in
…with my dirty insanity
You’re a cream
…a cream I only want to smell
…to leave it full till my flight of soul
You’re a beam
…a beam I need to flash
…in my lonely musings
So stay
…stay as you are
Tempt me not to stain
…stain your purity with my germs
For you are the gem I need to light up
On this stage of life
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © June 1, 2019

THAT SAUSAGE

That sau–
…sage
Knowing not its foo-
…tage
Drives me wild

II
That sau-
…sage
What is its mile-
…age?
Wants are piled

III
That sau-
…sage
If I get in my co-
…ttage
I’ll drive it wild

IV
That sau-
…sage
Give me on a mort-
…gage
I promise to go mild

V
That sau-
…sage
I need many of its do-
…sage
To sleep like a child

VI
It won’t be bad
To lick into –
…de-li-co-bite
…de-li-co-cut
Forgetting –
…ra-di-co-fears
…ra-di-co-tears
Until its brutal swallow
I so trust my teeth
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 30, 2019

AT THE JUDICIAL TOP

Lone lanes lie like locusts
…everywhere they turn
Suspicions steal their smiles
…cutting off family
…then friends
…just as dorma machines do great trees
Always drumming in their heads:
… “A judge should not budge to protect his badge
…of honour”
Imagine the heat in that tight box

II
While polis trick to pave their ways,
Corpus rate to pull their strings
And laws yeah to flow in win
They are supposed to stand tall with no ruffles
No matter the winds of blackmail
…breaking their resolves
Just imagine manipulators going:
… “A judge should not budge to protect his badge
…of honour”
Oh the heat in that tight box!

III
The bench is a punch of restrictions
…needing the hunch of care
…and a staunch will
It is boredom and stardom for freedom delivery
…in the prison of justice
That is the breathing reality
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 30, 2019

ODDITIES IN AGING

Imagine
Imagine lying still
…embarrassingly raining on bed
…turning baby through the age of adulthood
Your will broken by your can’t

II
Imagine,
Imagine losing the light in your eyes
…and having to live with same things in abstraction
…losing sight of all the attractions

III
Imagine
Imagine losing the miles in your legs
…to the abrupt stoppage of locomotion
Seeing motion in many
…and not having any

IV
Imagine
Imagine losing the sound in your ears
…asking mouths to shout
…to catch but a little of its products
…fearing the whispers that pass you by

V
Imagine,
Imagine losing
…all the memories you’ve worked for
…by living years of toil and pain
…through the tearing of forgetfulness
…and landing in the lost sphere of Alzeheimers

VI
Imagine
Imagine having none to lend a hand
…when growth gives you a weakness injection
…leaving you helpless with noticeable flaws
…which claw at your heart
…attracting negative tags of liabilities
Nothing can be fearful like the hunt of age
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © May 29, 2019

COYERS

You acting bricks
…scheming tricks
…to be have as chicks
…mostly end up with dreaded dicks
…who master tricks
…to break your bricks
Oops! Did I just bend a nail by hitting its head?

II
In an era where promises scatter
…before flutters shatter
Bitches need to know their love for bones
…and grab them with skill even in their hots
Swans need to know their love for cuddles
…and feel them, on rivers of acceptance
Cats need to know their love for the clevers
…and know them, on screens of acceptance
Foxes need to know their hatred for fences
…and flee at the sign of fencing
So why act coy to soy a boy’s joy?

III
Have your want
…in your careful font
…not in a squeeze of nos when you know
…your heart’s hat has fallen in its loving shake
If you’re a kpanla
…there definitely is a salmon
…a tilapia and its many others
Don’t forget the many colourful tropical fishes
…dying to be noticed

IV
If you’re a boy acting coy
In your annoying lover-boy ploy
…know you’re like a toy
…in a human play
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia ©May 28, 2019