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KAMAL DIARIES: March 2012
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Monday, March 12, 2012. How brief is the history of time. Losing it a second at a time. This is for those MOMENTS. We shared and forever treasure. For lovers,friends and opponents. Whose love and hate we cant measure. The tranquility of the air. Priceless we couldnt afford to pay. Lacing it with marihuana aroma. We thought it was fair. Feigning we were suffering from glaucoma. To legalize it, if only in our thoughts. Laughing our innocence away. Discussing politics and revolution. MOMENTS we got to share.
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KAMAL DIARIES: June 2011
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Friday, June 17, 2011. There is this girl. Her body is slender. A wife material type of girl. Her lips so tender. Haven’t touched them yet. Because she is like a vendor. Not a vendor,a cat. And wants nothing that will get her wet. Because like a vendor. She wants the Legal Tender. To give one a taste. I would give her all the stars. Up in the sky. And all the pearls. Down and deep in the seas. If I could…. But that’s just poetic. In reality,I have nothing to give. And I wouldn’t want her starved. 8220;Wh...
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KAMAL DIARIES
http://kamaldiaries.blogspot.com/2012/05/forever-young-old-age-would-make-me.html
Sunday, May 13, 2012. Old age would make me sinister. Full of wisdom and prone to give negative comments. Which I would defend like a barrister. I would dwell in the past like long gone comets. The future hazy and not guaranteed. Middle age would make me stressful. Full of responsibilities but limited opportunities. All the time I will have my hands full. School fees to pay and teenagers to raise. Calculated risks so that I dont end up a fool. Youth made me born free. Risking everything to fit in. Value ...
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KAMAL DIARIES: AN ODE TO GAIA
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Tuesday, September 20, 2011. AN ODE TO GAIA. Her heart shredding to pieces. Her voice coarse,no more screaming. Her golden and diamond tears, streaming. Down her face,on every phase. Like the mighty NILE. Flows from 'The Mountains of the moon'. Fathered by the great Alexandrine,Ptolemy. Which unlike then,drips no more. We have sidelined her like a lagoon. Does to a sole island,Madagascar. Guess our kids will miss HER more. ALL her beauty,our ACTIONS have,faded away. What will we tell them? AN ODE TO GAIA.
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KAMAL DIARIES: February 2011
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Saturday, February 5, 2011. STRANGER TO MY HEART. Like an empty face. From an alien place. I couldn`t put a name. This was a shame. But deep in my heart. I knew who you were. A stranger to my heart. With the glow as you smiled. That I had to make you mine. And forever cherish you, Like mine. The name, I answer to. Come a new day. It is still the same. Stranger to my heart. Deep inside, a furnace of burning desires. Tells me what it requires. Just a piece of your heart. Stars are diamonds in the sky.
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KAMAL DIARIES: December 2010
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Saturday, December 4, 2010. Old men shed no tears. Like the winds of the desert. Their eyes are dry. Lowering in respect my hat. Baby you will have to cry. Fleeting away in time. Of broken dreams and promises. Our lives seems like a crime. Blame it on me. From the dollar to the dime. Land grabbing by our founding fathers. Freedom fighters not getting restitution. Oppressing our people and enriching others. The ruling elite raping the constitution. To the underbelly of imperialism. Has gone all glum.
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KAMAL DIARIES: May 2012
http://kamaldiaries.blogspot.com/2012_05_01_archive.html
Sunday, May 13, 2012. Old age would make me sinister. Full of wisdom and prone to give negative comments. Which I would defend like a barrister. I would dwell in the past like long gone comets. The future hazy and not guaranteed. Middle age would make me stressful. Full of responsibilities but limited opportunities. All the time I will have my hands full. School fees to pay and teenagers to raise. Calculated risks so that I dont end up a fool. Youth made me born free. Risking everything to fit in. Value ...
kamaldiaries.blogspot.com
KAMAL DIARIES: November 2010
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Friday, November 19, 2010. Poetry is an act. It changes with time. This poem for example they will react. But I will lose nothing not even a dime. My poetic dream will be fastracked. Leaving their mouth sour with lime. Will lead me off the discourse. That is why I walk diligently. Never to sail off the course. Of my poetic script. Giving you alternating rhymes. To produce the musicality. Like bells that chimes. I want to say it manifestly. Poetry is not meters and stanzas. Give me my licence. Who left ho...
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KAMAL DIARIES: May 2011
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Monday, May 30, 2011. If flags could talk. How about flags of our fathers. Faded, to glory and misery. Is it a crime. If I tell the story. Of this faded flag. Over the years we have bled. Our patriots and country men. Tom Mboya`s, JM Kariuki`s and Pio Gama`s. We have massacred our people. Remember the Wagalla massacre. Blood on the runaway. Kenyans murdered by the Kenya army. Lets light this dark alley. Of the history of our army. And keep the red fading…. Our people not getting any crowning.