I have not had the opportunity to write and post the way in which I would like, but I am working on a few pieces and hope to have them up soon, thanks to the few that follow and read my content, you have no idea how much I appreciate you!
It is an open sunroof
sort of day
Cotton like clouds of
the cumulous culture
strewn across a bountiful
Dreary colors of grey and brown
are nowhere to be
Death has given way to life
Gorgeous green canopies, birds
whistling joyous melodies.
Sun’s up beaming, with this roof up, I drive home gleaming.
Sitting on this porch I am inclined to define, retune, and relight this burnt out torch. Aimless accuracy I gotta’ write to reassure myself of my humble love for poetry. Eventually pretty words will construct pictures and I again will share my verbal architecture.
So for the few readers I have, i wound like to share something. After months of trying to decide on a theme for my blog, I have decided to reinvent myself a little. I have always loved to write, and I have bits of poetry and musings all over my house, so I will be begin publishing older works as well as newer works of poetry and prose.
I would also like to explain the name of my blog. SpKN is my stage name, it is the word spken with vowels missing. I came up with this name a few years ago as I tried my best to be a spoken word poet. There is a much more concrete meaning to the name however; once words are said, that is it-they are spoken and cannot be unsaid. That is how I view my material. It may be raw, it may be sweet, it my be tough to digest but it cannot be taken back.
I will be posting some works that are based on true events but written as fictional stories. I am really excited about this because I have mainly been writing about musings I would have occasionally but I have found it hard to muse about much lately. I am also excited as I hope to engage with other writers whose work I admire and respect. For now, I will go and eat dinner
It is a dismal Sunday morning here in Philadelphia. It is quiet. My wife and daughter are fast asleep, and although we are usually up frantically getting ready for church, today, at 7:47 am, there is quiet. Outside is quiet, and despite the dull hum of the heater, inside is quiet. No crying baby, no in depth religious, political, or social conversations between the Mrs. and I. Just quiet. I had a great idea for a blog post a day or two ago, but my mind is quietly frustrated with other issues not related to the inauguration of Donald Trump.
A cup of coffee cools rapidly as I sit and indulge in my favorite past time-and yet I have nothing of any true substance to write. I presume one incredible aspect of a blank mind is learning to use different words than the usual colloquial terms which so easily emanate from a lack of self-education. Not that words such as rapidly, presume, and emanate are such amazing SAT words, but they replace the often used terms such as quickly, imagine, and the like. They add almost a serene beauty to the subject of any particular author, and yet I have fallen into the abyss of “normal language,” something I was quite accustomed at avoiding.
There was once upon a time where I was an avid reader. Articles on love and marriage, sex(at one point I wanted to be sex therapist), I love fiction especially mysteries. During this time, there was quiet in my life. No hustle and bustle of having to adult every day. No online classes demanding hours and hours of my time. I am madly in love with my family, there is no regret in being married and raising my daughter. Yet in the quiet of this particular morning, I find myself disenfranchised with the outrageous demands our society burdens any one person/family with. One must have such a high level of education just to be told the job market is inundated with other just as qualified applicants.
My quiet morning is thus interrupted by the cries of my little one, and my wife and I must prepare to go out and make some needed household purchases. My hope is that soon, I will be able to once again, enjoy the quiet.
My wife has had to carry our little girl in her belly for the last 7 and a half months. That’s right, I am going to be a father! It has not been easy. Her first trimester she lost ten pounds, and she was already at the exact weight for height, so we were really scared we could possibly lose our precious baby. She has, like so many women before her, had to carry the weight of working full-time, scheduling doctor’s appointments, trying her very best to eat healthy so that our daughter would be well nourished. She and I have often talked about how ridiculous it is that any expecting mother should have to work during those nine months. In a male dominated society, we men rarely if ever think about the what an expecting mother carries. Its not just a fetus, she’s carrying around worries, fears, doubts, and insecurities that we will probably never understand. At the very least we can understand through acknowledgment that what she and her body are going through is extremely tough.
Interestingly I too have had to carry something during this ongoing pregnancy. My wife’s movements began to slow whenever we walked, and it would take her some time to get in and out of our cars. She has had MANY restless nights. I’ve carried my own fears and frustrations, I have had to carry her through insecurities and fears. During this time, I have to the best that any man can, carry an understanding of what she is going through.
The weight of father hood is one other issue I am carrying. That weight consists of feeling inadequate, outright fear and anxiety, but it also carries with it feelings of deep love, pride, and joy. The one thought that stand prominent in my mind however, is that pregnancy is not just about what or whom the mother to be is carrying in her womb. Pregnancy has forced me to take a deeper look within myself to see the type of man I am, to see what I carry, and what I need to let go of in order to be the best husband and father possible. It is about looking at what my wife has to carry, and seeing how I can help her uphold all that she has to do, and though she is pregnant, the mother to be should also take stock of what she can do to help carry whatever burdens her husband/baby making partner has to carry.
I never knew the man
But I heard he was a good man
My biggest hope is he’s held
tight in heaven’s hand.
My soul aches at the news of violence
Fools committin’ crimes when they high
up off that nonsense
Common decency seems to be
the biggest offense–no peace in these streets-
we sleep only in eternal silence.
I never knew the man,
But I heard he was a good man…
His good will never be good enough,
But my God’s grace is always just enough.
I hope your soul can rest easy now knowing
I was inspired by a dead man
that I didn’t really know
Dad said he never stopped
trying, had nothing,
But always kept trying.
Great father and he always
That’s prolly why it hurt so much
hearing about him dying.
-C.R (Concrete Rhythm)