random kenndom » verse

blackened History

kenn — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 05:10:06 +0000

Embryos with a bloodied nose
Paraplegics with painted toes
Diaspora with no where to go
And stranger fruits have yet to be exposed

History books’ lies and conflicting refrains
Exaggerated heroism amidst talks of change
White slave traders while Africa is to blame
Calling for justice yet a prideful disdain

Shackles of iron and a kum ba ya repose
Chains of metal while concrete spawns a rose
Cords of rope and no longer borrowed clothes
Why all the alarm when you just keep hitting “doze?”

fine day for a Funeral

kenn — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 05:07:48 +0000

Dearest, if you’re reading this
I may be already dead
My wrists are already red
The fish are already fed

“Hope is but a waking dream”
That’s what Aristotle said
Or why I’m waking up in dread
And my forward feels like lead

It’s a fine day for a funeral
Be careful where you tread
Trust is all in your head
So do just as Papa said

Dearest, if you think this dim
By layers, you’ve been misled
That is not what I just said
Start all over, hope instead

Are you hungry?
Live like you’re fed
Have no money?
May God imbed
All alone?
Then thee I wed
Share your bread
Slide your sled
Make your bed
Lead or led
Like Papa said

Beloved, if you care enough
You’ll read between the red
It’s a fine day for a funeral
But then I’m not really dead.

far

kenn — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 21:00:25 +0000

Vexed to perplexed
To what happens next
Should I expose my belly
Or Kevlar my chest?

Uncertain past hurting
What’s behind that curtain?
Am I on the edge of a cliff
Or is destiny just flirting?

Do I heed or proceed?
Right now my heart bleeds
I’m sleeping on land
To which I don’t hold the deed

Am I up to the par?
Just want to get in my car
To come near to myself
It seems I have to go far.

thank God it’s Monday

kenn — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 05:10:45 +0000

thank God it’s Monday
or maybe it’s too early to be sane
maybe I shouldn’t jump to conclusions so soon before the refrain

thank God it’s Monday
is the caffeine yet kicking in?
hoping finds me happy and I’m emancipated from yesterday’s sin

thank God it’s Monday
’cause Friday was never one to be true
misunderstood, mistress, or misfit; she always left me for you

thank God it’s Monday
the beginning of so much more to do
I’ve got a reputation with everyone but I don’t want one with You.

hue man being

kenn — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 05:00:50 +0000

In the beginning we know not words but the noise of he that sins
The induction of destruction and obstruction of good tends

Do snowballs have a chance in hell and what does it all portend?
Am I left gasping and convulsing or will I get that second wind?

I’m not in Kansas anymore; Toto or Corporate may accept me in
These skin faders and dermis lasers are doing much less than they pretend

“Study real hard”, “don’t let down your guard”, and seven like sapient
When he grows up, will life show up or should we notify next of kin?

Who is in the mirror? Is God any nearer? And where did I begin?
Claim pots or kettles or African settles or whatever moniker gives you skin

Aren’t we all the same ‘ere what’s in a name and don’t labels expire the trend?
We’re at sixes and sevens, a fly is in the ointment, and a straw is in the wind

In the end, we remember not words of enemies but the silence of our friends*
And it’s that absence that negates. It’s that quiet that pretends.

kenn.

* ‘In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.’ – Martin Luther King Jr.