Mother’s Love

The chambers of your heart squeezed to allow life roll out. The thought of how a person you are caused my eyes to watch independently seeking an adjective to describe your uniqueness. You allow the burden of showing forth a protruding belly don on you. Sweat run consistently through the thickness of your hair. You laid back on a bed singing unpleasant sounds to allow me dance myself onto the outside. Your body crouched over me and your hands gives me warmth. Your flourishing milk moistened the dryness in me. As I grew gradually, you vacated into famine just to allow me witness the golden gourds. The silence of your pain echoed on your face. As I fell into the miry clay,you disciplined me and made me as white as snow. Rearranged literature cannot depict my love and appreciation. On this faithful day, I smile from my position and say “Thank you. I love you.”Written by Nana Kwame Dunamis


Ghana My Country

Ghana my motherland,

A very young old mother,

You that bewed all your offsprings together,

You are proud and acquainted to your black nature,

You are indeed of integrity and your body drowns in good culture.

Ghana my motherland,

A corrupted truthful mother,

You that is coated with resources and indiscriminate gender,

You have your humility and perseverance stirred into a mixture,

Your core receives everyone into it like an aperture.

Ghana my motherland,

A homely beautiful mother,

You that is swifty slow to change like the weather,

You are hardened and opposite of a denture,

Yet you are well-structured and defined as literature.

Written by Nana Kwame Dunamis


Why do people hail you that much? Is it because of your prerogative that mirrors into success? You let your branches soar high disabling the undisciplined from getting a touch. Your principals are indeed sharper than combined forces of an axe.

People pursue you with sweat flowing down their physique to pay respect to the midnight burning candle light. Your tough hurricane strikes against those who wish to be honoured like a knight. You hang with wisdom glowing with pride like a star. You are indeed the worthy one that you are.

Your declining nature afterwards transmogrify melancholy into smiling faces. Your beauty is carefully carved into continuous phases. This is why people crave for you in endless pain. You are indeed a right to gain.

Written by Nana Kwame Dunamis

True Love

Smearing our minds with affection is a good move but knowing the voluntary aspect makes it real. Love indeed is a choice. When two dilapidated hearts decide to console themselves of pain and sorrow each day, and come to a renewable decision of practicing empathy, that’s love. One can decide to renew theirs decision to love each day or debunk it. It is not an avenue for exploiting one of resources or favours. It is rather a station were sadness is seen as mere hallucinations with sacrifice as its cornerstone. The zeal to be love ridden demands nothing less than good preparation. It takes bravery to cause homeostasis between lust and mutual symbiosis because the want for one side more, raptures its sweet melody and rhythm. Love is immortal and never fades away as people say it does. But there is a pause when impulses travels along sore and bitter routes of dishonesty to the brain coaxing it to make a choice. It only takes disciplined persons persons to concur its deceitful and flummoxed downpours. At first sight of it, lust normally flashes through the corneal regions of the eye. It only takes the disciplined to transmogrify part of it into humbleness, honesty and care. The shallow flee from it when it starts to gnash its double edged teeth. Its primitiveness is only retained by choice and not by ones egoistical behavior. Its true denizens are few because a lot fail to make the right decisions.

Written by Nana Kwame Dunamis

The State Of Affairs

As the breeze from the sea finds its way bracing the earth crust, so does greed waddles it way into the minds of those in black. When their license is hanged around their necks, they enjoy their amplitude tours obliviating that they used to direct their occiput to the ground and cry their complains out loud. Currency smeared over their bellies, they tend to forget the zeal they had to eradicate the evil their predecessors had done. They move to the front only when their habitats are darkened by the smoke whose fire had started when they were amongst the grasses. They only be hear those carrying golden gourds. Numerous persons expire each day due to poor road or poor lighting system on good roads. No offense though but when is the Sarkodie or Ebony then solutions and banners are rapidly manufactured. Should it be so? When graduate engineers have their certification hanging in their rooms. Yet when they transmogrify into thieves and rob, they get arrested. Who is to be blamed?Brumbrum chakachaka tatata goes transport machines fully fueled to quality health care while indigenously we suffer. Mm aa are sounds of pregnant women who are been carried by manual means to far off lands just to secure a floor of a hospital to rest. I guess everyday is not a holiday for builders, carpenters, metal workers and the rest because their works are been locked inside them. If public figures expire mysteriously , sermons are given against the process used in killing them. What about the people covered in dust?Goal! Yes Brazil won. Another goal Manchester won. Are we not ashamed that other countries can’t call our names instead. We hail to aliens that say f**k you on our musical and movie platforms but who hails to our names. Their children are raised easily into the air to see better ABC while they brag of wanting good for those who gave them the privileges. Reporting for Adom TV and tv3, there has been another kidnap at Takoradi. Tears flooded in the eyes their family members. But processing it faster is a problem as if the security agencies are not working. Mmhaa is how smoothly they inhale because their environment is as cleaned as heaven unlike the one that inhales and opens the eyes to see the few employed nurses around. Is it fare? Won’t blame anyone and won’t say much but a word to the wise is in the north. As said by Emile Lahoud ” Democracy, good governance and modernity cannot be imported or imposed from outside a country”. So we should make our minds and make our home a better place.

Written by Nana Kwame Dunamis

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