Dear Friends, it’s been a matter of days and circumstance for which I have not written nor been able to communicate but grace and destiny abound as this transmission reaches you now. Your existence coupled with your presence means a lot to me. Your availability and support humbles me. Your consistency is what I’ve always asked my Father in Heaven for. You mean more than you can know and I’m thankful you are here.
While this electronic and public articulation has its downside, one of them is not the fact that you can’t see tears gathering where light meets my eyes. I am elated and reflective right now. I consider June 1, 1970 and how my life has been full of failures that have ultimately lead to success. I dwell on how life means so much to me now where once upon a time, I was far from impressed with its offerings. My life is not ended yet but looking back gives me greater reason to move forward with purpose. And again you make the difference.
Since 1970, I have shared words and love and rejection and oxygen with you. Thank you for your wishes, kinds words, grace, forgiveness, and consistency. I love you, Friends.
I love you madly.
forever, kenn.
This was a small scribble in my sketchbook that just looks eerie when I look at it now. I love it. Can you hear the voices too?
I rarely frequent Starbucks but I stopped by for a soy latte this past week on the way to witness my son’s final orchestra performance for the school year. As I awaited the templated artistry of the drink maid, I was browsing the clearance shelf of baristas, coffees, and overpriced ceramic cups.
But, “Hark! What is this?” A little simple cup with a the instruction, “grow” written across and the icon of a plant in it’s infancy. This is cool and I do like green but this is Starbucks. This cup must be about seven… what the? Three dollars?!! Sold! I love my cup. Don’t you?
(Nadine is the personification of hope)
This is not some love poem or a soliloquy of a dream
This is not a confession of an angry black man or how its difficult to be a human being
This is not a suicide note left with hesitant intentions of being seen
And this is not an adolescent cry with regret that I have been weaned
What this is is inspiration from a flesh and walking dream
What this is is articulation to the canopy above the seas
What this is is experimental though obsession it may seem
What this is is a gift kind of like money green or chocolate cream
This is exotic feathers seconds after the beak has preened
This is a one-apple fixation more from healthy trees
This is an arduous extensive reach to tell her what I really mean
This is one mans venture into what rhymes with Nadine.
Now upon meeting Nadine I felt chills up my spleen
Or down my spleen, you see direction wasn’t my focus while my focus was this dream
Yes, this dream I rename Nadine, to protect the innocent amidst a crowded scene
And her smile was like some glow or gleam or shine or sheen just rendering me
Riddling me, butterflies inside flittering deep, betrayed by a mouth that wouldn’t speak
This was not a commonplace meeting or a random dating thing
This was not some fortuitous glint or something karma has deemed
This was not boy meets girl simply for girl and boy to thump like peens
This was not boy selecting candidates to consummate his black book team
What it was makes me sing and what it is is like Plasticine
Molded mass around structured glass, who knows what it will be
Yet with 206 bones from about 300 that convened
And gray matter that is more complex than the most intricate machine
There is hope to which I careen as directional as a stream or gravity’s lean
I know not what I saying but I am saying what I mean.
People may look at her and see someone refined and pristine
A warming smile encased in glass, steady, safe, unwavering
I am inclined to behold much more, her depth like gasoline
Explosive is what emanates, her heat burns pure and clean
Natural, nice, quite phenomenal, networking is where she beams
Amazing, analytical, animated, adept amongst many other things
Detonating, drop-dead gorgeous, I dig her diction, shes my dream
Imagination, intelligent face and introspective she might be
Nothing precedes her nor depletes her, neo, novel, my intervene
Excited, enlightened, energetic, endowed with grace of 40 queens
40 things and 30 scenes and 20 props made of polystyrene
Is that so keen? Not clear but keen. No wait I’m keen. Well, I once was Keen.
I once was Keen before Nadine. But in her honor I eschewed an E
In exchange for that E and to her esteem, N took its place, N for Nadine
Conclusively or decidedly or perhaps more appropriately unconditionally
Homage and admiration and permeation beyond the seams
France is where it originated from and hope is what it means
Starts in the N and ends as in E yet her monikers no big thing
Her dermis and curves and motives and verbs is where I would place the reams
Of stash and cash and interest and gladly exalting this Nadine
This exaltation is long so pardon my lingering scene
This is not some love poem or a soliloquy of a dream
This is not a confession of an angry black man or how its difficult to be a human being
This is not a suicide note left with hesitant intentions of being seen
And this is not an adolescent cry with regret that I have been weaned
What I hope is that her heart and nerves and ears hereafter see
What I hope is that my Love prevails condemning crooks and fiends
What I hope is that a remnant sows and nurtures kinetic seed
And the seed shall be though we can’t see and one day it will burst forth from the ground and it will be.
No thing, no fling, no temporary scene, no nicotine
Well quaff and feast and dream and clean
Reconvene forever between God’s grace and
Well reconvene and reconvene and reconvene forever, Nadine.
Love Kenn, your Keen. End scene.
not sure why the baby is upside down or why I’m doodling babies but…
I was reading an interview on the early years of Jack Kirby, the artist and co-creator of Spider-Man, Hulk, Fantastic Four, Captain America, and a host of other comic book legends. Since I have a tendency to doodle as I read, talk, or work, I figured I would start sharing those distractions with you here. These are by no means complete works of art. They are instead line ramblings and doodles. Enjoy the deviation. 