Four walls and an echo
Down a long and distant hall
Four intents and no passenger
And a self-constructed wall
verse
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blackened History
An embryo with a bloodied nose
Paraplegics with painted toes
Diaspora with nowhere to go
And stranger fruits still unexposed
fine day for a Funeral
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
far
Vexed to perplexed
To what happens next
Should I expose my belly
Or Kevlar my chest?
thank God it’s Monday
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
hue man being
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.
the grapes of rant
Don’t stand so close to me while I’m writhing and breathing
This just in – Atlanta traffic is absurd and has me seething
She’s chewing with her mouth wide; maybe she’s still teething
The public education system in the United States? Okay, I’m leaving.
new way to Fall
My fingers have become more articulate
At the idea that you they may touch
My nostrils flair and filter out random flavorings
For your scent and zephyr is near
My tongue had suffered that which was insipid
While the advent of you was pending
Colors I have not known for many seasons
And your foliage, they startle me into an awakened state
I want to disturb your pile of leaves
And heed the chorus that my entry provokes
My imagination, now amplified by your brisk touch,
Seeks a covering or a blanket but not for the sake of isolation
Instead for the sake of insulation
Protecting, loving, comforting, reminding
With your unprecedented, familiar unfamiliar
I have learned to Fall
In new ways.
kenn.