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poem

Home Returning

Home Returning

Kenneth M
Kenneth M
poem, travels, spoken words
2 min read
Home is when your ailing uncle drained out of his blood, stares you in the eye bloodshed worried for you. Your only grief is one that time may heal, yet his life’s purpose is to humbly be about others. Home is the joy, the brotherhood, walking in the streets feeling invincible, well accompanied. It is that connection, inexplicably unkept but as surprisingly as ever, self asserted. Home is the strength of the family in it’s faith, the grotto of the granny, the crosses on the wall, the similar
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Unpublished: Beggars for love (Oslo flight)

Unpublished: Beggars for love (Oslo flight)

Kenneth M
Kenneth M
poem, spoken words, thoughts
2 min read
Mind is buzzing of thoughts I’ve nurtured through my stay. In all the questions I’ve sought answers to, I’ve discovered many more to be unsure of. In the stare of that man begging, wandering from wagons to streets, seeking coins to satisfy his hunger. The draw of luck may land him a bill that would make him feel satiated but not forever satisfied. He may wander, but he is far from lost. He knows where to be. He can read kindness in the patrons eyes, perhaps gambles at times, or just desperate
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I am them, we are race: human, heritage: black

Kenneth M
Kenneth M
poem, spoken words
5 min read
Strides feel heavy, I fear the very street I live on. I consider myself lucky, the man shot by the cop on tv is of a far lighter shade than I am. Yes, somehow it feels his shade mattered, because that’s the only rationalization I could come up with. My mom’s entire paternal side would all be sentenced to death just on that basis. Dark, and not of any kind, Ebony shiny dark: my heritage. So I limp, face down. I cannot explain the startled look of the guy walking across me, he’s
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MAMA

MAMA

Kenneth M
Kenneth M
poem, spoken words, thoughts, motherland
2 min read
Mama Africa Oh you of rich history, legends and tales, envious to no other, Nations of hospitality, so welcoming, duped into forsaking your own birth rights. Oh you of morals, high and unflinching, beliefs transcending supernatural, Engrained into a way of life, the way of life of the motherland. Oh you land of flourishing fauna, deep savannah, blessed soil with minerals. Oh you of plenty faith, banner to your identity, that brandishes your faith, which ever it may be, as the only way.
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Peace

Peace

Kenneth M
Kenneth M
poem, spoken words
1 min read
Peace I seek, in a past, perhaps long forgone; perhaps not worth hanging onto. Peace I find, in a future, light and relieved from my self inflicted burdens. Peace I dream, may it not be in a world without flaw, may it be in a world’s whose flaws made it. Peace I discover, raising my head from indignation, having ran out of lamentation. Peace I live, because life is too short lived. Because I need to live. Peace I raise, often hidden in plain-sight, other times just obfuscated by today. Pea
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