Thinking of you sleeping right before you wake up
Has me so warm to steeping that I’m about to break up
The visual of you wrapped in sheets not wearing any makeup
Has me so terse that if I burst then I could fill a lake up
There must be some hobby or craft I can maybe take up
In the event that you awaken and decide to pull your stakes up
Or in honor of you and this view I could build a cake up
That says “You’re on my mind and all for just the sake of”
Thinking of you stirring right before you wake up
There I go again thinking of something we could make up
Like leave the sheets in disarray or toss the pillows as some quake up
But then maybe this is a just a dream. Don’t ever want to wake up.
.kenn
I wanna hold your hand
I wanna be your man
I wanna be the sand that runs through your toes
Ending up in unsuspecting places of the crannies and folds of your clothes.
A chair is not a chair
A weave is not her hair
A burning house is not a flare when there’s no one standing close
To witness who was so lonely for attention that he’d torch his own abode.
I wanna kiss your face
I wanna run your race
I wanna occupy your space like some random thought
That public education, good nutrition and moderate exercise just bought.
Lies I’ve heard
From the start…
“Not that smart
Ain’t got heart
Just a tart
Slow to start
Below the chart
Dull-eyed dart
Richless fart
Empty cart
Progress in ‘park’
Stopping start
In the dark
Just a lark
Can’t make the mark
No grave for Clark
Reality stark
Mewing bark”
What’s that?!
Hark!
Who’s that?
Hark!
Can’t hear you
I can’t hear you
We can’t hear you
Stop!
Okay.
Now start
Over.
Touch your toes
Bend your knees
Prostrate yourself
And pray for peace
Relax your arms
To your side
Drop your weapons
And your pride
Widen your eyes
Close your mouth
Put her first
Do without
Feel the burn
Catch your breath
You can do it
Ask for help
Stretch your arms
Shift your hips
Speak your heart
Through positive lips
Do three reps
Every dawn
With your favorite
Dance tune on
Arch your back
Praise like trees
Prostrate yourself
And pray for peace.
Cordon off the area
Secure the halls
There’s honey on the floor
Sugar on the walls
There’s flowers in a vase
Rose petals on the bed
Bathtub full of milk
And someone has lost his head
Aromatic candles flicker soft
No light switch can be found
The silence is suspicious
Wait, there is a subtle sound
Heartbeats or footsteps
Or bodies falling down steps
Ambient, rhythmic moaning
Thrust into the depths
No body nor a weapon
Nor motive for suspense
Yet someone’s been affected
By the preponderance of evidence.
kenn ’05
Starting over
Is stopping first
Catch my breath
Quench my thirst
I have a question
What could be worst?
Let it bleed
Or hold back to burst?
To being anew
You let it end
Burn the remains
And then begin
East from west
Forgive the sin
What did I do?
I can’t remem…ber
kenn 1.9.08
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
That’s 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.
silent outside. restrained voices
and murmur or muffle of sound.
incoherent. beating irregular.
inside. beyond the foamed walls
shutting out the silence, I scream.
Shrieking. Shrilling. Gasping.
Glass breaks. Metal crumples.
Concrete crumbles. Water violently sloshes.
Am I really here?
sleeping stops
good morning, Clock
run.
shower. drive.
traffic. thrive.
run.
busy. work
pressure. irked.
run.
pressure builds.
patience spills.
run!
thoughts in hollow
should pride I swallow?
run!
the poke, the prod
have mercy, God
run!
falsely accused
blind temper ensues
run!
curse and swing
and shoot at things
didn’t run.
the smoke then clears
my conscience seared
didn’t run.
weapon in hand
I’ve destroyed two men
done.
kenn
Despicable, decrepit, destructive deplume
Incessant inquisitions and undeserved impute
Violent thoughts amidst separation so vile
Omnipresent abandons and odious bile
Repulsive while resenting beginnings with rancor
Conclusions so caustic, no relief for this canker
End.
Mirror mirror, am I the one?
Change your hair, see the sun
Fix your nose, be more fun
Get ‘er done, get ‘er done.
Mother mother, am I a prince?
Stand up straight, fix your tint
Read more books for recompense
When you’re fair, this’ll make more sense
Father father, am I a model?
Be a doctor, win the lotto
Are you a model? don’t be so shallow
Write a book, endorse a motto
Brother sister, are you proud of me?
Well it depends, can I borrow three?
And at 4am will you make me free?
You sellout house-negro wannabe
Mirror mirror, see my tears?
Shards and blood and seven years
This fascination with beauty confirms my fears
Time for a veer and God is near.
kenn
Faith licker, finger pricker, blood thicker, pull trigger, click clicka
Run Bigger run nigga, dirt kicker, mortis rigor, faith sicker, God digger.
selah
How can I concatenate to He?
Dossier of my prior won’t let me be
Judged and tried and can’t pay the fee
Then suddenly released on a technicality
selah
A loophole and prophecies thrice said
A bruised heel crushes a wicked head
To win His bride, He obediently shed
God dredge. It is written. Jesus said.
selah
Vampire hunters just bear it
Followers of heresy just swear it
Thugged-out rappers just wear it
The homeless mission just Jesus Cares” it
Do they dig it though? Can you dig it?
selah
The cross the cross the old rugged cross
I’m not saying she’s a God digger. Her loss.
finis.
© 2006 kenn Bivins
Once upon a time there was a young boy whose name was… well… let’s see
To protect the innocent, we’ll address young Kenn discreet and anonymously
So this shy, young boy who lacked no love grew up in a loveless town
Shy though spry with a detailed eye his imagination knew no bounds
Then teenage years and the furlough of tears and more than his share of rage
Young boy departed from Nadine and pristine to work where sin offered wage
Of Shakespearean tragedy or a life less than raggedy, boy succumbed to be spent
Not Allah nor Buddah nor Vishnu nor Gouda could clarify at all what it meant
Near ending his zeal, boy cried to ceiling for a purpose or some hint of reason
Then a fit of pure Grace and a Love apt for lace gave fruit to seeds planted out of season
Intellectually revealed, God showed boy His will and how Jesus was more than a cross
How He suffered then died and is now living inside and with Spirit he’d never be lost
Hallelujahs and praise and bent knees for days and walking together in rain
Then sudden or slow or how I don’t know but boy experienced a dim change…
Boy didn’t call half as much or want to be touched or trust that God could allay his fear
And the forbidden thought of taking hold of another came close where it never came near
Duplicitous and ambiguous and suddenly conspicuous, this accord an inconsistent haze
No engrossed studying His missives or echoes of praise or covenant of sun-filled days
Who was this boy? This Jekyll and Hyde? This Jesus on his skin yet someone else inside?
Mirror mirror on the wall please do confide, He’s not Clark Kent so one of them must die
I… no… he… no… boy… no… you see… this story, my story, like rain… grace and peace
Forgiveness and a funeral dirge has become this boy’s recurring theme. Continued to be…
© 2006 kenn bivins
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.
kenn
Symmetry is but skin deep and I’m in a sentimental mood
Kaleidoscopes and Coltrane and the serendipity of you
Intoxicated ramblings drunk from the elixir of your dew
Never said I was so sinless but I am an heir of a great Jew
Some say that the crop is considered from the root
Some say the fool is wisest when he’s mute
Some say that I am a man of good repute
I say your skin makes me wonder of your fruit.
Nerve endings and oil glands and blood vessels do compose
And collagen and elastin and goose bumps when youre cold
I love your skin and the fruit within if I may be so spry and bold
And this love, dear Dove still stays above when gravity wins the fold
Some say beauty is skin deep from the tooth
Some say my unannounced Dove looks a lot like you
Some say what’s within is worth declaring all the truth
Your vellum dermis casing skin it lovingly announces… YOU.
© 2006 kenn bivins