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THE FORGE OF A NEW PATH

THE FORGE OF A NEW PATH BY:Panamus Cmanto They have been ,in my time  the living proof of the fabulous nature of this collective dream toward achieving achieving the global goal of zero Aids. But for the moment ,they have turn away from those generalized,macrocosmic notions to concentrate upon a more private ritual:HIV/AIDs,was nevertheless quite imaginary;into a mythical land ,a country which would never exist except by efforts of a phenomenal collective will- except in a dream we all agreed to dream that has been a mass fantasy shared in varying degrees by NOPE,Unitaid,CHRD and among many other key partners,and would  periodically need the santifaction and renewal which can only be provided by rituals of sacrifices and sensitization amongst us in order to  achieve the 90-90-90 ambitious target of UNAIDs has set. “Due to societal pressure i was forced to marry to cover shame and that was not a very good decision,”Lucy Wanjiku Director of Positive Young Women Voices  said adding that she…
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I have been,in my times the living proof of the fabulous nature of this collective dream;but for a moment ,i shall turn away from those generalized,macrocosmic notions to concentrate upon a more private ritual.HIV/AIDs!Was nevertheless quite imaginary;into a mythical
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Today being the day i was born,i look back and feel a touch of pride at my younger self's dedication to literature,activism and aviation which have always given me the strength of mind to resist the blandishments of enemies of promise.. I was born at Bondeni Maternity on 1st June 1996.And the time?The time matters,too.Well then at night.No,its important to be more...On the stroke of midnight,as a matter of fact.Clock-hands joined palms in respectful greeting as i came.Oh,spell it out,spell it out:at the precise instant of Kenya's celebration as a free state on Madaraka Day,i tumbled forth into the world.There were gasps.And,outside the window,fireworks and crowds.A few seconds later,my father broke his big toe;but his a mere trifle when set beside what had befallen me in that benighted moment,because thanks to the occult of tyrannies of those blandly saluting clocks i had been mysteriously handcuffed to history,my destinies indissolubly chained to those of my country.For the …
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In the renewed silence,i return to sheets of paper which smell just a little of turmeric ,ready and willing to put out of its misery a narrative which i left yesterday hanging in the mid-air...(enjoy the broken parts of its coming soon)

The Who I Am

Portrait as real me Sometimes I feel. I should have been born an abortion. I was born with a life laid down for me. And I'm confused. I'm not the boy my mother brought up to be. I'm not the pussy loving guy my peers think I am. But . I wonder how this world is. There are those who never see the greatness in a man, those who will never see me as anything more than a cocksucker- Yet I am a poet too. Even as I speak. Some is baying for my blood. Everyday I struggle to break chains And all I want is to live peacefully, My body not being paraded as an outcast, Not to be stared, when I walk with my lover! And I swear I'm saturated with the absorption of all this hate. Why cant this world let everyone be? I have come home ,ran into the deepest of waters. All I offer is my true love.

ARE YOU GAY?

I admit there is no word for my love in my first language.I have to search myself in a foreign tongue. My brain is quite a ruin.This bloody fingers cannot let me drown into obscurity. Have you ever known how to love in survival?How to avoid making love even when your desires are charging you all over? I mean,if God is for us all why is the world against me? Here I am alive but not living.In my language i cannot be found,my body is a a war upon a war.The only way to live is to die. God ..you brought me to this world as a faggot only to deny me a name in my tongue! forgive me I rejected myself for many years & i know what it means. This is the only way to live.My toes digging upon the ground. Do not ask me whether i'm gay. Maybe someday my body will be freed.

HOME COMING

1. The edge of water is the end of the ocean. In Los Angeles I spike my body and wonder how many black bodies are swallowed in the waters. I escape the haunting shadows through a paperback of Danez Smith's Don't call us dead. 2. There are no miracles in this world. Men have always remained what they are. Rivers running through the lands Black bodies being maimed everywhere! Its an erasure Hopes dwindling World peace just a dream We write on palms while fingers press for the bullet We remain silent as a man makes threats of annihilation to a country. 3. I am back at the Place of my birth. At the airport I'm greeted by stares and finger pointings. The faggot is back! 4. By now I do not care what the world says. I have seen everything I should have never seen Black boys being shot cold blank A somali boy setting himself on fire. I regret nothing. I regret nothing except for not telling all the men I have ever had a crush on that I felt something for th…