“I am enough of an artist to draw free of imagination”- Anonymous “I can write better than anybody who can write faster, and I can write faster than anybody who can write better”- A.J. Liesling Poems written and compiled for the pleasure of the Society, by Sefah, Ato Welbeck His poetry covers almost every facet of life. On average he spends not less than two minutes on a long poem. He sometimes recites and performs most of his lines at programs and at functionaries especially at the gathering of the Saints of God.upon request for free. The Poems are yet to be edited. ODE TO A WOMAN Woman woman. Flow thee when my thirst lights. Test my salt an' compare thee to sea if I be enough Nights of my darkness. Or beautiful nothin' ever doted before. Thine eyes like the deers of the i-land rear. And thine face round like erring. O woman, the panting of a lasting breath. My senses as that of Shaka, yet drown in your love. Like that from hard barley. Thy skin lights like shine. Thy feet spotless like burnt clay. The image of my ribs. The savanna' of my bearin'. As red as kisses. Warm as roses white. And as sweet as blended Hen- nessey. You look a fly in the sky. Dancing every-thing dearly in your buckles. And in everything you do handsome and rewarding like sweet. Thine anger is great. Thine sober honour and mighty. Like seasoning preserves fresh. And standin' many feet long you stand a tall. Thou walk like me. Thine steps of a queen bee. Lime and lemon are dull. But with you away they go cane. Men love you like Victoria. But I adore you a church wine. Whose found my lost soul a home. You rock jam-rock. God bless thine cherished breasts. And make them tendest and firmer That thou great and thunder feed us with milk. Tis in all thine ways thou soft like silk Sometimes shine like steel. ODE TO FATHERS Glory be to thine heavy hands. Console hath thou coming fear. Some days aloof bypass our brave. In a cloud the blues surpass the fear. Low when crawling hath our feet. Thine sweetest pine drip a wide bore. Of happiness doth we smile. Not in passing ray. Happiness up the sky. Unto thine thin candle route. Channel the complaints of tender. And make some hastening kneading broth. Our hungry bellies fill thee with canes and straw. O for length of hours our eye berries. The seasons dry wither the leaves. White and pale the shattering green. Be in thine shadow our gentle rest Young as ignorant unknowing cravings for bread Chop monies and all the journeys long But warmth in thine folded arms we rest. A FREE VERSE FOR LADIES You are the sunset shadow Resting like a water in a jar Lay forever softly your heads on our chest Cos that reminds us of something Wow this is our kind of rain As sensual as midnight kisses There is always red on their lips Where dem Ladies spark our evening blues You are our shelter in the cold Like a drop of snow from winter Falling down on us high You are our kind of rain A summer breeze that refreshes the mind You are more sugary than the beet Far more polished than fine gold A gypsy of the journey made of caravans and bold God bless thine cherished breasts And make them tendest and firmest They are our kind of rain Ladies, you are our kind of rain Everyday and every passing moment For thou art great-oo LIKE THAT Tell me who can tell me like that. When your words make me ding a ding along. With affectionale in my heart. You mouth me like that. Tell me who makes my world calm when troubled but sober me. From your hands like that. Are my fingers hurting again after you made me ointment like that? The sun and the moon close their chapters when time is up. But right here beside me like that, singing to me only a song like that. Never to go away a blink in a brink You make my resting place your living place. Tell me who gives me faith like that. On my doorstep you come with woolen like that. And with coal to burn flames when cold. \ When nature betrays my shiver. Herbs hot herbs in a Paris jug on my table when asleep. Tell me who gets me awake like a cycle out for work through the weather like that. My breath, my style no one humbled like you like that. I pray that you make history Monalisa like that. Cos like that you make warring soldiers a Florence Nightingale like that mother Teresa. Tell me ooh tell me how the way you do me like that. BAD MAN DADDY You were a bad man all this while I thought. I have a dad but will never get a dad like you. You are the bad man. When you tell me about the traitor next door I think you are that traitor. You hate me whenever you punish me. Later when deep asleep you will come near my bed to rub your hands at my back, “Son, I'm sorry. I should hope some day you will understand”. I feel your tears. But as bold as a man they will not drip like ice. Cos in you is the fear that I may go wayward. I “School”. And like a friend to my enemy you pull my ears straight into the classroom for every lesson uninteresting. Bad man daddy bad man. What at all have I done to this man to deserve such inhumane treatments. What angers me the most is the way you drag me by the hand in front of everybody and anybody when wrong. As shy as I was I know you want to disgrace me forever. He mustn't eat for three days you always say but I know it will only be for a day. Sweet mum will always come to me hiding and tip-toeing with food to clear my anguish. The nice Parish bowl which makes your dinner a table. Your way of grounding is wicked. Your way of grounding itchy. Four days in a room darkness you call for me. Cos with you all blinds must come down. Bad man daddy you were always the bad man I thought. Now I know daddy all that you said to me. I sat down one day far away from home. And from you to ponder. My senses came home. I never did again what you hated me do. Now I'm so proud having had you as my dad. Father wish you were here to see my days. Bad man daddy, I always thought as much. But since the day we parted company, with the words of your gentility. Never to go the rough way like you did and do and did. I made for myself a smooth young man inside me. And whenever I remember you I wish you were here. Good man daddy. I was bad but always thought you were the one. Good man daddy you are the good father. Bad man daddy I always thought you were bad. A Poem written in honour and in dedication to my late father, Padmore Ofori-Atta Sefah, and to all the so-called bad daddies of the Presby Church of Ghana, Grace Congregation, West Legon branch, Accra-Ghana. Written on the 16th day of June, a night before Father's day. THE TRAITOR NEXT DOOR Teach us how to count O woman The wishful thinking wise of your grey hair. Say to us how the way paves the days Before we be betrayed by our foolish ways. Tell it all to all when darkness befall light O woman. When footprint meets footpath. At the crossroad where we hardly decide easily. Where some words we confide make our standing. That there is a traitor nest door. And we before you know when to speak. Tell the wind about our dwellings. Make known to the angry sun our scotching secret. To shelter our humble plight. And to burn our left-overs like chaff before he who comes comes. His shadow casts slur like tremble. Comes walking coast to coast when in need of Kwatcha to Zambia. Since he made fifty pesos from thirty rupiah a day's boast. Speak to any man from Southeastern Taliban from Indonesia. When Argentina of 1960's adopted Colunbus' dollar. And when we know what to say. Mute like cold the snowy flourish silence. For there is a man outside our window. Who's made friends with our wall. All for the good that stands within the shelter. Teach us O maame Abrewa how to count our time. Cos there is a traitor next door. Whose duty is to trail our weaknesses for meekness. LETTERS IN THE SKY There's a place called heaven no place tight like its plight. We share light on its sight. Where our dreams take light No flight like going sight We stress never say never until we are below drought. Deep thoughts the way we reason Men of charisma and of poetry Courage their paths the journey trails We wait for our dreaming days to turn sunny. And when not asleep. Up into the sky we recall the moon which darkness blue. Someone must have sent us rain early or early rains Our season our bounty. A teacher's prayer for the farmer The Preacher's prayer for the hooker Who comes first before noon when Heaven comes judging But with our dream letters up above A stranger of my type shall bring When on Earth there is no place to safe Our safe above will come with letters from the sky. WHEN IT COMES One day you will find solace in laying your head on my shoulder. Peace and warming as a brightening silver folder. Soothing and pampering as understanding as a mother. And I'll hold you like this the way of her baby. And caress as pressing as hope. Nobody will understand to cope. How sweet and tender you are to me. Only eyes can see the signals that shoots rainbow from above. But between me and you it will always be like that. Some timer when we hold hands like this. Good night pine a poetic line for you. One day you will find solace in chamberlain WE ARE NOT YOUNG Chooboi chooboi cho cho booi. Up on the highest hill stands a scoundrel. Masks and bashing fear sending distant lands. Stand up all you men and women of heat. With sticks and with mallets beside a young stool. Playing the almighty fontonfrom to the chill of all. Peace be my neighbours' and I. Better half a bread gluttoned in peace than unrest with full. Like fire sparks demonstrarion and grief. O'er the past seasons has peace paved route for oppression. Let's go neigh and nay. Against the young and the bald. Who in our freedom they obstruct. Pull down the juicy tree that refurbishes their paunch. No sign over faces like everything is well. Before we lay down for our heads a pillow Cos we are not young A SONNET FOR THE CHURCH AND POLITICS 1. Two country, all large all powerful, The white collar, and the poli-tical suit 3. That be the way of genklemen 4. Two country, the church and Politics. The disarray yard of better thinkin'; 6. Where wishful thinkin' men shun no blinking, 7. Because the pulpit wouldn't stand that mingling And now corruption and bribery feed our land like imperialism 9. If the nation crashes we crash 10. For fear of ridicule just a few are openly talkin about ryt or wrong, the true feature of hooliganism Tear not into pieces the words of the scripture 12. As Christians as taxpayers, forget about politics and remain silent Oh! two country, I seem not to understand 14. But for Jesus Christ, hallelujah, men and women of God would have being in Political suit, but for Jesus Written by Sefah, Ato Welbeck, Tuesday, June 12, 2012. 9:32 anti-meridian, West Legon ELIMINA Elimina, Elimina, Elimina I am with some apostrophies. You wont understand. Pity and oryaaw when you toiled about against your toilings. Tekhira Elimina. As beautiful as every-thing sorrow. Your waves faster than a jumbo jet. You came before Ghana. Land of castles, oldies and youngies. Elimina, you recall the days of bue bue bue the cries of our ancestors. That day of pitiable wailings amidst scornful slavery. How then was the feeling Elimina? Yawson son of Yaws, Anderson son of Anders And all the son sons. Some days artificial were your rumblings. The people who cheated you from Edna. Must I concur to fishing that you be first. Or to shackles that you be second. There we take baskets to the stream to fetch blood. AVEYIME Ahwuu ekekevo 3k3k3-3k3kvor Aveyime they say not I oo that you're a good citizen of Ghana. Tell me what you do that makes them remember your name like something. You palm small than the government indeed you are more of a government. You who cast no net but makes net like my fisherman folks. Aveyime, the hope of our anniversary. You make us luchi. And like men and women of means we sleep well. Ya we sleep well. With you we eat a belly full. Aveyime, I hear your other name is rice. Oh when our homes are nothing but whole and phia we know we wont go to bed on empty bellies. It's not difficult at all for me to accept some facts. In fact when I know of your season. Harvest time and upland and lowland. Mothers with their babies at their back. With sickles and with sticks. With anything called langalanga. People dancing, women and their youngs clapping. Birds flapping, dogs barking, men stumping their feet tum tum tum, nannies and billies and kids m3m3m3m3. Billowing dust noise crying a mixed up feeling of figuring, jiggling, tingling and dingling, klin klin klin, all awaiting their long time over due yearnings. The joy of you has made us forget our yawnings. And now at your doorpost we fear no fear. What must come out of famine. Aveyime Christmas our time I got nothing for Christmas Neither a poem nor in apostrophe nor ode nor sonnet nor couplet nor free verse. That I be praise thee whilst the weather me cold. When you chill me snow. Whip me some many lashes like punisher before the Peninsular. As though I was of the West. And say then after hallelujah to thy name. Naa, for you born was a king that bore the mother's cord like thread. It threads and trail like firing rain. Like a manger like a manger. There's no resting place for a stranger. Now I be saved by grace. I think no wandering a dessert. But free a man who has nothing for bronya. Though happy and free fine boy fine girl. Thank God it's Christmas Cos I've got nothing for Christmas but a line or two for bronya. SONNETS LIKE OURSELVES Some things are worth more than rubies. Even roses white and pure gold High versioned and made well When near come no near stand Bronze blister the helmet of a warrior Though sparkling like dazzle and silver Your beauty casts shadow them all If I then be for your love Why wont lie I on fine linen With the open windows where breeze lay Let me praise your name small After all wat have for short life? O woman of my aisle Beautiful are you when I see your face Even when downcast like a shadow casts Cos you are everything like a perfume I take pleasure from As pretty as pretty Thy face the answer to my troubled heart I've found you like a fallen pin difficult to Who can find you a price Not even a painting from a finest Professor like Glover. Some things are worth more than rubies To me you worth more than water A dirge, all for the death What shall I say then Now that sorrow rest its cold feet on me Like a master taking the servant for a ride Your death now betrays my weaknesses And deep down within me a heavy chamber I pour it down heavily like a heavy downpour It sweeping me off my standing now oo You look me a stranger Who is without a word to utter Who laid yours pillow Like me I be full of drudgery What shall I do then? Have me a willow lay aside me like you Now that I be torn into pieces I go in no peace There is a great billow getting down on me Shall I booze like tonight Or get drunk like a strong liquor Where do I stand now that with me I have no pity for joy Fare thee well I bid you Cos now that you lay rest I be nothing for now but full of sorrow An apostrophe. How some people do crave for salvation but are never sufficient O! light fill my heart And draw away my fears The darkness that suck me high And makes me low like timid Open my eyes like a miracle That I may see the beauty of the naturals The birds that gloom the sky With their sweet melodious tonic sofas They start my midnight with a spark Especially the nightingales I fancy to reach out to Wipe away my tears And hide not me your arms If my stumblings make me cry Stretch forth your hand and touch me When lost and strange to understanding O light enlighten me like Noah Or like a preacher stands before lightening and orders a calm like Jesus Cos like Jesus like Preacher O light blow me some few kisses Someday when I sleep and do not wake up from my darkness Then you give me a second chance Cos with you are more shinnings. A poem about the way some people do moan all their hearts out for the death. Don't cry when you hear me dead Cos for me have no cry Bear yourselves witnesses of the minute that stands by And go settle scores with one another And have have total say in all oneness and togetherness For the soul and the body should be made fit I be young or old But there shall come judgment for me A man of my manifold a maker of me A man of myself Heaven or the gate of Hades I shall go Who can anyway tell the way of the last day Always prepare brethren when we have laid to rest a man Cos each for for himself though found not in our books God will always be for us all. THE END OF LOVE With candles may blow on a table light Red or white Shall be bride or groom a question for two To me beat my heart too The way two faithfuls easily easily become enemies Is not in love with you But anger with earlier To me make it feel like no Can anyone tell where love ends? You've found it today Then be gone when it's tomorrow Rage and anger after joy You heard the Romeo and Juliet Love does end sometimes sour And thou magic moments all forever lost to forgone. Like some two enemies on one yard More than Satan before Jesus Squarely strange and openly mute Oh, love the end of you comes strange many unendings WHAT ARE YOU Shall I connote you to music? W'at if I for pride of heart I see me unravel every line that pleases a woman Here I am passing me over Where younger my stride Still plenty my love Yours like grapes and wine The longer sweet vineyard You shant me know the rest When thou not watchin' Your beauty I watch like gaze I wont deserve shount I Then me here your wantin' Thou art everything made of strings For thou maketh worth of ringin to ring YOUNGEST FOOLISHESS I am holding on to nothing Who can tell me the way I feel When I can leave all behind And only with you I say Thou mean me a rockin' And thou mean me all 'Tis a song sea shanty; where captains aboard on a ship Lo sailors and dukes toast a toast Doth me have opiates into the wind Where get thee drunkards and kings For a tainted memory release me Strap around me feet bare And like Salsa shant I own my walk. SONNETS FOR YOUNG WOMEN They are the sunset shadow Rest like a water in a jar And lay forever softly their head on my chest And that reminds us of something Wow this our my kind of rain As sensual as midnight kisses There is always red on their lips. Where two open together comes a mint She's my warmth in the cold Like a drop of snow from the sky Fallen down on me high She's my kind of rain A summer breeze that refreshens the mind She is more sugary than cane Jobs and businesses A gypsy of the journey made of caravans