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.


SpKn Reinvented

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.

Measuring New Years

Years are funny things. Every December 31st as another year counts down, countless number of people look back and contemplate life. Some say the past year was good to them, others may say it sucked, it was horrible, it knocked them down, took the wind out of their sails, so forth and so on. And yet on December 31st, many come up with New Year’s Resolutions, its a “New year, new me,” or my favorite, “This is my year!”

But what about all the other years that started last year? What about the date that marks how many years you have been at a job, or been married? June 19th, 2016 marked ten years since I graduated high school. The beginning of August my wife and I celebrated four years of marriage. In October my wife gave birth to a beautiful little girl and then two days later, I turned thirty. Each one of those dates measures a year, so within a calendar year, there are many beginnings that we have to start new years, so in retrospect, was the last calendar year really that bad? Yes, I know that we as humans are programmed to draw a final breath and many people have lost loved ones, and I do truly sympathize. I know that there have been terror attacks throughout the world, questionable police shootings in the United States, so forth and so on. But for each date that started a year to some specific event or events in all of our lives, whether it be birth or death, starts or finishes, was the last calendar year so terrible? Again, do not think me heartless for I do recognize that death is never easy for anyone, but lets look at the college student who struggled all semester but passed with all A’s. Sure your social life may have suffered, maybe he/she even experienced a break up. But in spite of that, you attained something that you worked for. Maybe like me you are not crazy about your job, but from September 7th to September 7th, I can say that I have truly learned about myself a lot and have since grown.

As January gets underway, as the new year slowly progresses, my challenge to myself is to reflect on 2016, look at the years within that year and contemplate life. I will not measure 2016 in terms of shocking celebrity deaths, but in terms of personal growth and fulfillment, many new beginnings, more chapters written in a life lived, and celebrate all that was 2016, and prayerfully all that will be 2017. Happy New Years, and may God continue to bless and grow each and every one of you.

No Sleep Till… a Year Old?

Here I am, the last week of my paternity leave. I hear the sounds of the city slowly waking; buses lumbering down the avenue, a car rushing to make the light. I have been awake, since sometime yesterday morning.

It was 48 degrees Fahrenheit and windy when I left to get us coffee at 4:50am. Naomi, our daughter flipped out at ten last night. My wife very gently laid her in the bassinette, and before she could turn her back, the almost non-stop wailing began. It is hard not get angry, or be frustrated. She is only 3 weeks old, so I practice deep breathing, I pray, I tell Naomi I love her, and I kiss her. Then my wife takes over when she sees I am running  out of steam. It is a balancing act, parenting.

I found that fact out the first night Naomi came home from the hospital. Like last night and into this morning, she barely slept. My wife so good at soothing her, me? At the time, not so much. The following morning with exasperation in my voice I said, “I can’t do the whole calming thing. I can get up change a diaper, and feed her a bottle, but I need you to calm her down.”

My coffee is getting cold, and I sit here trying to poetically describe my thoughts and feelings as a new dad. Let’s just say I am stoked, and I truly love this precious little girl. I truly just wish she could sleep through the night. So as the city begins to awaken, I must find ways of keeping myself up to get the day rolling.

Daily Prompt: Carry

via Daily Prompt: Carry

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.

Ron: A poem dedicated to a customer of my dad’s…

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

stayed tough.

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

kept trying.

That’s prolly why it hurt so much

hearing about him dying.

-C.R (Concrete Rhythm)

My first Friday off from work in quite some time, and I am stuck in the house, sick! I am trying to be productive and get some homework done, but all I feel like doing is sleeping. Actually what I really want to do is get out of the house and enjoy this wonderful weather we are having! Well, that is all for now, I am too tired/sick to type anything meaningful.