The Dabbler

I don’t babble

I focus my wit on my prey

Reducing every else into rubble.

Bobbing and weaving


Butterfly floating

In the jungle

Stinging like a yellow jacket

Putting your brain into a jumble

Traffic jammin’

Your world in shambles

Looking up to me from the canvas,

Lights bright

All you hear is the whine of blood rushing through your ears

Imma stand right over you

God’s shadow



Dry Leaves dance slowly

Lit by harmattan sun

Into earth’s arms.


The world isn’t ours for the taking

Seize the day however you might,

But time runs through your hand like sand

Leaving grains of regret

White noise in the picture of your youth

Scarred and graceless,

So no faking,

Look to the light,

Run through the land

Be not uncouth

Don’t fret,

For He will your life bless.



The land lives by the sea


The beach sand kisses the ocean in an eternal romance

But Sea is forever


Churning with the thoughts of the inspired

And it always

Throws the mundane rubbish


Land tosses in

Back at her



© Sena Frost 2k16



This Beautiful Boy continued

As I crash and burn through life

Sometimes imploding in a single moment of strife

A failure in an otherwise successful mission


On the brink of a jubilee silver

Lining in the clouds I don’t often see.

I know one thing,

I’m alive.


I’m probably not your average Joe,

Although I admit I’m very unremarkable,

Maybe I have a foe,

But then

I have icky yucky moments like eating fish roe,

Pretty boy

Skinny lad only vaguely interested in the ideal body

Rock solid abs and pecs so massive they might have been carved out of granite.

For what?
Phasing through what I need vs what my parents want but who cares?

I’m just a big baby.




In a constantly distracted state of mind

Lost in the lovemaking of intellect and emotion and carnal desire

A ménage a trois decried by the religion of spirituality

Living in a myopic society full of people suffering from mental hypermetropia,

Overseen by the few who have made it

Astigmatic towards those climbing the ladder right behind them

Flailing for the top rung in the darkness of self-determination,

Such cruelty

I’m in constant rumination.


Today it’s all big words,


The first

The beginning

The last

The only frontier anyone actually ever knows about

A race where no one ever comes first.

I guess I have to keep running till my lungs burst

Pop goes the weasel!

I know nothing

But I know everything



Truth is

Nothing is perfect

You will break the heart of the one who loves you

Not because you don’t care


Maybe not nearly enough.

Friends will come and go through you

Changing rooms

And the ones who stay turn out like your favourite underwear

Well-worn and torn and ready to be tossed into the trash because they have been used just a little too much.



An adult pretty much still a child but without the psychotic nature of adolescence

Gripped with the dengue

Fever of making something of yourself

Silver spoon or not

I am eternally weighed down by things not yet realized

In a virtual reality where dreams are real

And I am

Somnambulating through the untethering of my aspirations from the well weeded path my forebears set down for me.


This beautiful boy is

Simply walking through this life

May be this is a reminder


You cannot grasp life

It is meaningless to hold on.

Let go.

I have done what I can

In this life

I loved and hated and sinned and was forgiven

And by grace I am saved,

Still  I am here


I am not.


© Sena Frost 2k16





We Are

We are
Fifty Nine today,
Young as nations go
But old enough to be gray
We are
Short and stunted
Yet proud and resilient
Like the much maligned cockroach we endure
The insecticides of corruption and manipulation
Still we are here.

We are blessed with natural resources
Which kill our nature
Because greed and unemployment are much more important to our youth than going to school
At least the 3 Rs are better than artisanal prospects in the river of easy wealth
Which rob us of any sense
One part success in three million parts of negligence.
In the banality of riches we reinforce our siblings’ marginal strengths over ours,
Just because we are.

We are,
Proud of our families
Oblivious to their shortcomings
And eager to make sure they are in positions of influence
We kick off that which is not our blood
That we might be safe in the future.
We are
Eager to pull our opponents down
Because we want what they have
And in the end we become the little children we are
Squabbling over a football we found in a gutter.

We are hardworking and ebullient
Forever the optimist
Always the hopeful
Our knees raise our heads into prayer
Because without Him there can be no faith.
And in that lies our deepest strengths
Which we have dragged since time immemorial in the tears of our eyes and the scars on our backs.

We are many shades of colour
The gateway to Africa
Woven into our kente and fugu
Dainty but powerful like the adowa and the kete dances
Festive and communal like the borborbor and kpalongo
Our nets are filled with the reality of our bountiful truth.
Just because
We are.

We are Ghanaian
Not the mightiest or the most resourceful
But a potpourri of helpfulness
As imparted from our elders of eons ago,
For every pebble on the mat there are a thousand caocao beans
We are who we are today
Because we never forgot who we were
In the blood of our fathers
Who tilled the green lands for
The golden reserves
In order that we might strike the
Black lode star
And shine brightly in the light sky.
On this day
And forever more
God bless our homeland Ghana.

© Sena Frost 2k16



You ain’t have to be perfect,

You don’t need to go running or do god-knows how many crunches,

You’re my head prefect

My co-couch potato belching and farting after too many brunches.

Babe I think you’re fucken gorgeous,

Just the way you are,

Regular and of this world

You got a brother saying the magic word

Minding my “P”s and “Q”s

Aiming for a slice of that bread

Steaming hot and baked

Just how I like it.

You ain’t fat,

You chubby and cute like them little dollies,

My own baby phat.


Babe do you think your tits are too small?

That you ain’t got that flat tummy like runway models

Or the backside to fill your pants like them teens at the mall?

You ain’t gotta worry about that,

I think you’re just about right for cuddles,

Not too tall,

Just perfect like teddy huddles,

Soft and mushy,

Tasting like caramel

Too sweet and dark like chocolate

I is bound to you like a Bedouin and his camel

Girl I never wanna be late

To tap that booty

Climbing all over you

Sweat and heat

Steamy like the bayou


You don’t have to be me,

Or try to give a damn about nobody,

Cos you got that hot body,

Only place I call home.

All lit up like Christmas Eve,

Bone of my bone,

I call you Eve,

Cos you the first

In our little Eden (Hazard),


Into our own Paradise.



I think you’re an angel

My little piece of heaven

Right here on earth

My sweet bagel

I ain’t never leavin’

I’m your loving pet,

Your dog,

Down for you whenever


And your mind so beautiful,

Dark and expansive and sparkly like the ocean under a moon full,

Yo mama ain’t raise no fool.

I loves your bikini bod,

And it ain’t nobody’s business

You ma trap queen

And I thought you should know.


© Sena Frost 2k16

Image courtesy


© Sena Frost 2k16