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David Munene wa Kimberly

Changes Everlasting

They occur when we least expect
Easy to accept; difficult to accept
All change... change that shoves
That which cushions like gloves
Change brought us here
Change is what will keep us there

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The Human Dome

The human dome has room for home
The same dome has home for more dome
This home in the dome has room for more homes
whatever dome, with whatever home with homes,
There yields good; good that is not clone
There yields a brood not so good, ; this could be a clone
Prepare for the good, watch the brood - not so good a clone

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Hurt Mothers

Give me a heart O Lord
Such as that of a mother
Please, please dear God
A heart of a hurt mother

Like pricks and thorns grow
On stems in hedges yet don’t prick
They sway with stems when winds blow
Never do they hurt their own stick

A heart that hurts I already have
But compared to a mother’s,
This of mine has burning nerve
In a hurt mother’s heart, tenderness gathers

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End-Month Bank Queues

Here we are all
Queuing in the banking hall
Short and tall
Accounts likewise - short, tall
Hoping queues will not stall
Like they do at the shopping mall

Teller-to-teller
Teller-to-custome r
Teller-to-cashier
In the views rear,
Many wish were near

End month; check.
In has come the paycheck
Time for us to cause havoc
As we its wealth wreck
In ways diverse like a peck
Our accounts we'll soon uncheck.

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Adults Like Children

The cry of a child
Should be taken as mild
But that of an adult?
Is like overwriting a cult!

Hate that you would be adult by nature
In appearance and stature
Yet you hold up childlike culture
You feed us with folly like agriculture

Punching holes, here and there
Amongst your colleagues; peer-to-peer
You love pain with others so near
Without shame and/or fear

Grow up, not only your rear
Grow in manner without sneer

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Our Friendship Ain't Fateful

Late out of state without absolute hate,
I decline to incline my fate into failure’s plate
I perceive not me able to be for you that great
Yet you make perfect of me, even in my state
Looking down upon me not, yet looking upon me without hate
Of how it came to being is a mystery that revives history in slate
Oh how I hate the thought I could lose my current state
In hate I’d sulk to ever cross a path that seals this fate
Can destiny and fate really drag me away? I doubt; they’re late

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Tears We Cry

Tears we cry, tears we cry
Sometimes tears Kalahari dry
Tears we cry, tears we cry

For others many tears
In us for us many fears
For us we haven't tears

Their aches hurt so
But our heartaches hurt too
Why then do we for theirs cry so?

Mine tears don't for me flow
Tears for they my mind blow
Like a virgin turn whore

Went to a funeral
Of a relation to my fellow
How my heart felt hollow

[...] Read more

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Deafening Silence

Some silence is deafening
Some silence feels vengeant and weakening
Some silence is like a thundering
That cuts throught the skies roaring
From whence had proceeded a lightening
Such silence has reason reasoning
But whose meaning deciphering
Is a task more than daunting

Heark! The silence speaks
In decibels at their peaks
To hearts that care to see its beaks,
Moving with artistic and professional leaks
In hushed tones through which loneliness sneaks
It could perhaps last for weeks
And no doubt painful than zillions of pricks

Such silence dear Queen
Is like to a kid beginning to wean
Or a saint committing a newly-found sin

[...] Read more

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Africa and Africa’s

Have seen little of history unfold
I know that one thing will always be
Africa will be,
But what is Africa’s may never be

White man came
Green lands began to dry
So did rivers and streams
Even oceans and seas

Whatever the white man sees
Seems to vanish from Africa
Like dews do in his singeing summers
When he sees peace… there! Gone

The white man said he’d in Africa invested
In actual sense he had Africa infested
Looting without shame
Claiming England is Object; Africa its subject

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You Don't Read Africa

Never have you ever sat
Or beneath African Suns lay flat
You insist on rumours fat
Liken to a rainy day's door mat
To judge where you haven't testified
And judge what ain't justified

You don't read Africa
You heard it is Hell's replica
With an oasis of virtual bliss
Where on semi-humans and snakes hiss
You watched him report
On a continent he hasn't rapport!

Why do you believe:
That which you perceive?
As Gospel-truth lies you receive?
Those that only your mind deceive?
Making you think 'Africa' is synonym to 'grieve'?

[...] Read more

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