| Bride Breed |
Bride Breed
Pilgrim's pride, is America, English is Europe and Our-communal ownership-is Africa. Therefore, the poem is an American story told by an African, in a European language. Let's believe the poet is dead and hear the persona.
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| Inside the Convent |
Inside The Convent Reply to Steve Partington's ‘Nuns. Khainga takes leave from his walk down K-Street to peer through the Convent.
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| Private thoughts of a public man |
private thoughts of a public man...
Poet Mike Kwambo pulls the strings on our series on K-Street otherwise, called NairobiI's Red Light District. This poem could as well be meant for performance. Read on.
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| Change |
Change Neema Ngwatilo's second poem in Imagine Culture.
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 | Teacups Eleven years old and accustomed to seeing
the Jacaranda trees carpet the hill-side
with their lavender flowers, loving them even
when they wilted and returned to dirt; I still hoped
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| Fourth ballad of K-Street |
 | Fourth ballad of K-Street Khainga O'Okwemba persists on his walk down Koinange Street, looking, looking.
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| Third ballad of K-street |
Third ballad of Koinange Street Imagine Culture's Poetry editor Khainga O'Okwemba continues his walk down Nairobi's Koinange Street.
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| big ass bed |
big ass bed she was a sultry goddess
that every man wanted to possess
every time I looked at her I used to think…"you woman!"
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| Finally Levi |
Finally Levi
they told us you were dead months ago
mbeki observed a moment of silence in your honour levi
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| Becoming |
Becoming
It was cold, that moonlight dawn
The day my heart long ached
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| Valentines |
 | Valentines
It is that time of the year, valentines again
Reminds you that you are still alone, once again.
This is straight from my heart
That's why I don't know where to start.
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| Letter from Kamiti |
 | Letter from Kamiti Baby girl,
The afandes wake us at four
In the early morning
As the familiar rumble of guts
Negotiate the murky corridors
That smell of potent body odour
I'm thinking of bacon and eggs
The scent of your sweet perfume
But my thoughts are interrupted
By the 27 men in the 2 man cell next
door
They knocked over the bucket
Containing the bi-products
Of the prison's cafeteria system
They were fight ...
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| Dermis Dilemma |
 | Dermis Dilemma
getting ready to slit
the thick crust that covers
the throbbing vein that is
my pickle
bleeding
bled to dilute tears milked
spurting rich like precious
oils
jewels of my own making
drunk with troubles
quenched by the hope
of sweet wet freedom
solid redemption
only to start again
but tomorrow
...
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