Kensi 'n' Tom - Peace then pieces

Listen to the full EP by clicking here. 

:: Thirty-three and one third - TB

33 1/3 revolutions per minute,
In his home,
Listening to, thinking about
Dylan’s Revolution in the air.

70 heartbeats per minute,
Rising to 100,
Reading through, thinking about
Injustice, violence and suffering.

10 blinks per minute,
71 by the President,
Informing and then telling
Everything is going be OK.

4000 steps per day,
Rising to 10,000
Walking over, then resting on
Old ground.

:: War footage - KC

It's beyond late

when in a dream

I get war footage of

your neighborhood's

exploding buildings and

smoky streets,

I am mad at you already

for not keeping your promise.

All of a sudden

you come into the picture

dressed in your

stepmotherland's colors,

trying to make your way

through the crowd.

A tall man blocks your

passage, whispers

something in your ear

and kisses your cheeks

before you disappear.

In the e-mail you say

you've been thinking about

leaving the city and that, maybe,

we should consider working

for the Ringling Brothers,

now they are ending their

elephant acts.

You could be a fire eater,

I could be a lion tamer,

or we could both be

smartly funny clowns.

I wake up crying

for it's beyond late.

Kensi 'n' Tom - La vie dans mon ciel

 

Listen to the full EP by clicking here.

:: La vie dans mon ciel - TB

Spin around,
Round and round
The windmill of my mind.
Spin around the many sides of me.
A child with curiosity brimming,
The art of asking strong women
about the world, the weather, the whys.
The art of looking at the world with new eyes.

:: La vie dans mon ciel - KC

A yard,

for dogs and a tree I'll plant 

when you come into being, 

little one.

I'll watch you climb it up

and fall from it a few times,

dear sovereign to your own

kingdom,

before you have learned the distance

from the top to the ground

- this I cannot teach you.

But I will kiss your bruised knees,

and tell you about the persistency 

of clouds.

N.B.:

- TB lives Under the Toadstool and here. 

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads.

- Kensi 'n' Tom EP original photos and artwork by TB.

Kensi 'n' Tom - Naked as we stand

Listen to the full EP by clicking here. 

:: Honest reflections - TB

The light seems to brush
My left shoulder.
It leads all the way down
To my elbow,
Which on this occasion digs
Into my ribs.
Left hand gripping my brown locks.
The awkward pose leads me to ask
if my feet are on backwards.
Bruises paint my left leg.
Hair stands on end on the right.
There are the dangling bits
And the gangly bits,
The toned and the honed parts.
The toned and the honed parts
Must be mocking the floppy.
Whatever lives in that belly?
And why does it rumble like a bear?
My face is what I usually study.
On this occasion I forget it’s there.
I glance up and down
Each time checking if anything’s changed.

:: Laws of reflection - KC

You 

make it a habit

to stand before the looking glass

and face it proudly

like your own super hero.

Tonight you’re Wonder Woman.

(If only you brushed your hair on Sundays and 

had a cool tiara somewhere

to improve the immersion experience)

Note here these stretch marks,

this body,

a straitjacket to contain your rebellious soul.

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.

Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.

The moment you made your mantra

your war paint, 

you could no longer be contained.

The first gray hair shows

to honor you 

for your restless efforts

over the years 

at being a better human than your reflection.

This vessel will fall 

with everything else in the world.

You never cared about 

keeping anything but your spirits up

anyway. 

N.B.:

- TB's official residence is Under the Toadstool. He likes to hang out. I like to have him here.

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads

- Nolite te bastardes carborundorum is pig Latin for "don't let the bastards grind you down." The phrase comes from Margaret Atwood's book A Handmaid's Tale and is tattooed on my chest. 
- Kensi 'n' Tom EP artwork by KC.

Kensi 'n' Tom - Space to dream

Listen to the full EP by clicking here.

:: Bitter sweet ceylon tea - TB

My dream, in a teacup, needs stirring.
I sip and decide it’s too bitter.
I add sugar and realise it’s now too sweet.
I actually liked it more when it was bitter.
Now it’s a bitter sweet ceylon tea, that’s right.
Should I just leave this one to go cold like the last?
What if i drink every last drop and end up hating the pictures with leaves?

:: Wings - KC

What I am going to be today,

I decided in a dream last night.

It was by tripping too close

to the edge of an abyss

and falling down into it,

I discovered I'm winged.

N.B.:

- TB's official residence is Under the Toadstool. I like to imagine I'm his winter house.

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads

- Kensi 'n' Tom EP artwork by KC.

Kensi 'n' Tom - Conversations with a stranger

Listen to the full EP by clicking here. 

:: Just talking - TB

He’s talking,
He’s bleeding,
Becoming weaker with every word.

He’s talking,
He’s conceding,
He thought you hadn’t heard.

He’s talking,
He’s crying,
Tears making things blurred.

He’s talking,
You’re not listening,
Again, his words have been spurned.

:: Paper - KC

Happy anniversary,

It's been a year.

You left the gate to the zoo

open,

my wild thing

looking for shelter

walked in.

We don't usually talk on a Tuesday

- what happened to "No talk Tuesday"?

What's the last dream you remember?

Are you already awake?

How do you see me?

if you could grow anything from your belly button,

what would it be?

You do beautiful things here,

inside me, I mean.

N.B.:

- TB lives Under the Toadstool. I'm just lucky he likes to spend time with me.

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads

- Kensi 'n' Tom EP artwork by KC.

Kensi 'n' Tom - Modern life, let me out

Listen to the full EP by clicking here. 

:: Techno thunder – TB

Oogledy googledy goo,

face booking, snap chatting. 

What’s appening in here?

I C Q Ing for the next one,

I pod iPad iPhone

I’m sad at home.

Look at the beautiful blue skype. 

Yahoo ooo,

I’m getting there eventually.

Lycos, like this, unlike this,

Thee usual for the internet explorer.

Asking jeeves to show you the door.

Unfriend.

:: Stream lines - KC

KC can't tell for sure if she is awake.

KC is too tired to put on makeup today and therefore is wearing her zombie face for work.

KC is listening to The Evpatoria Report.

KC is feeling selfish.

KC won't share her people.

KC is counting up to ten (seven times).

KC is eating carrot cake.

KC wishes she had more time to write.

KC has a sore throat.

KC is sure someone somewhere keeps a voodoo doll of her.

KC is having a day full of emptiness.

KC wishes she had a space to disappear.

KC is reading Ready Player One.

KC liked the photo of a baby dressed in a blue monster costume.

KC is ready to be a mother.

KC's next tattoo will say: but surely tomorrow. #Beckett #WaitingForGodot

KC is feeling grinchy.

KC has a Skype meeting tonight and would like to know what time 20:00 GMT +1 reads in Brazil.

KC's hair looks like grown-up Simba's mane today. #badhairmonth #hakunamatata #TheLionKing

KC is thankful Google and Facebook bots read her poems. #webcrawlerlove

KC thinks she's dying today.

KC survives.

KC is wondering if the other person's silence becomes our own after some time.

KC has gone for a ride down memory lane. She'll be back later.

KC knows it's too late to join NASA.

KC doesn't like existing on Friday evenings.

KC can't sleep.

KC is wishing upon stars that won't fall.

KC now knows it takes no more than two hours sleep to make a nightmare.

KC's chances of falling on the street today are 1.000.000:1. #heavyrain

KC is visiting the online photography archive of The Library of Congress.

KC should probably spend less time with faces of the past and find a face in the present to look at.

KC finds a face in the present. It rarely smiles.

KC still finds it a nice, calming face to look at. 

N.B.:

- TB has a house Under the Toadstool and another one in my heart. I'm always hoping he moves permanently inside me.

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads

- Kensi 'n' Tom EP original photo and artwork by TB.

Kensi 'n' Tom - Already thrown

Listen to the full EP by clicking here. 

:: Left to fate - TB

The over-pleasant lassitude
Has eaten away at him,
Resulting in the desuetude
Of the once tended-to fields of his mind.

His mind, his nemesis.
His thoughts, a labyrinth.
Better wait up for Lady Luck to reappear,
Dressed in her alluring, seductive, diaphanous gown.

The ephemeral joys of deciding for himself
Are soon plucked away by the deft fingers of fate.
She loves me, she loves me not.
Toss a coin. Tails says nothing changes.

He thought he’d been prescribed the elixir of life.
He’d obviously picked up the wrong bottle
And then spun it in the wrong direction,
A sign maybe, a harbinger of doom perhaps.

:: Binding forces - KC

I know fate very well.

When I was young

we were best friends and

fate taught me to read star maps.

It sat in my classroom once and

devoured all the books I recommended.

Fate is a memory

buried under an ancient stone statue

on the top of Mt. Nemrut.

Fate is a jerk.

Fate kisses like a girl.

Fate has me wrapped 

around his finger.

Fate is pro naturist.

Fate makes me sing.

Fate is so smart.

I search fate in bed

in the middle of the night

but it's destiny I spoon with.

Destiny plays with my curls.

Destiny and I don't talk much.

except in the mirror before

we leave for work.

N.B.:

- TB's official house  is Under the Toadstool. I'm so used to his company already it will be awful when he leaves. 

- "Fate without destiny" is and idea derived from the Chinese concept of Yuanfén.  For some time, I've believed I'm destined to loneliness. (Sad sad panda)

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads

- Kensi 'n' Tom EP original photo and artwork by TB.

Kensi 'n' Tom - Exposed to the elements

Listen to the full EP by clicking here

:: Future told - TB

What will the weather be tomorrow?
Happiness set against violet clouds.
Misery reflected by the sea.
Anguish languishing in the eye of a hurricane.

What will the weather be tomorrow?
Warm days broken up by scattered showers.
Mild nights. Threat of storms.
No exceptional warmth.

:: June showers - KC

I was born on a cold rainy morning in June 1978

the first images recorded on my retina

were those of my mother's face

and nimbus clouds.

As a baby,  rain tunes were

the only thing to calm me down.

As an adult, I can always count on them

to soothe my mood.

Growing up I would always cover my ears

in the shower moving my body to and fro

to create my own rain-like songs.

I still do.

N.B.:

- TB's official house  is Under the Toadstool,  but I do think he matches my walls. 

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads
- Kensi 'n' Tom EP original photo and artwork by KC.

- I'm in permanent state of delight.

Kensi 'n' Tom - Some lights never go out

Listen to the full EP by clicking here. 

:: Walk on - TB

Walk, walk forwards.
Don’t ever step back.
Tread, tread safely.
Don’t step on the toes of my dreams.
Carve, carve its soul into yours,
the odds shall be in your favour.
Live, live in hope.
Me, I just live in this city.

:: Window - KC

be it across the street or the Atlantic

a window is a window is a window.

I can only see what you want me to

and you see me because I let you through

because I want you in as much as

I want light.

N.B.:

- TB's official house  is Under the Toadstool, maybe one day he moves in with me, huh.

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads
- Kensi 'n' Tom EP original photo and artwork by TB.

- A lifetime of writing and performing poetry and children's rhymes with someone I adore. I don't need much more than that.

Kensi 'n' Tom - The social animal instinct

Listen to the EP below

:: Animals - TB

Feeding time,
under the cover of darkness.
Someone needs advice on wearing animal prints.
That can wait till the morning.
In the morning they’ll discover which pool they’ve been drinking from,
Whose ear’s been ‘accidentally’ mistaken for tucker,
And where they finally nestled.
It all begins with the poetry of the foot.
The moth launches its assault on the butterfly.
The cat brushes against the legs of the elephant,
While the panda yells out bamboo.
I sip at my nectar and monitor their movements.
I feel the closest I’ve ever felt to being alive.

:: Instinct - KC

He comes under my skin

a word after a word after a word

bridging the gaps of time and space

existing between us.

I wave to him 

to come on, 

which he does cautiously,

stopping every few meters

to look me over - 

we construe reality

with the words we're given.

When you get up courage to approach

you'll be able to read me deeper.

  
N.B.:

- TB is usually found Under the Toadstool, but don't you love seeing him here? Maybe we should start a hashtag: #stayTB.

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads
- Kensi 'n' Tom EP art by Kenia Cris
- TB is definitely my Queneau. <3

Kensi 'n' Tom - Marmalade Sandwich

Listen to the EP below

:: Marmalade stains - TB

The descent of grace continued
Trickling into his teacup.
Another runner was on its way,
Down the all-to-familiar slopes of his rosy-red cheeks.
He’d wanted so much to be recognised,
To be idolised for his finer spirit,
Never sure exactly how and when,
Waiting for the day, someday.
Unfulfilled relationships, unfinished books, unfulfilled promises,
You name them, he’d had them.
They stained every corner of every page.

:: Marmalade stains - KC

He dwelt among

inspiration, aspirations,

arguments,  reorientation

outlined paths to collective

views of urgent achievements

and instant pleasure

feeding others' egos

and improving their

desires of grandeur

while neglecting his own,

colleagues would say.

But anyone who hadn't walked past his door 

too hurriedly to have

a good glimpse of him

sitting with students' tests and essays at his desk, 

wifey's marmalade sandwich lying aside untouched

could have delivered a different opinion.

N.B.:

- TB is usually found Under the Toadstool, but I do love when he visits and always wish he stayed.

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads
- Kensi 'n' Tom EP art by Kenia Cris
- The creation process of 'marmalade stains' involved constrained writing. TB came up with the idea to write about a character and so he set the scene: a retiring professor with a marmalade sandwich on his table. 

- Writing with TB feels as if I had my own Queneau. <3

Kensi 'n' Tom - Swimming in the sky

Listen to the EP below

:: The writer - TB

Words come
Easily,
On paper.
Rhythm just
Follows her,
Like vapour.

She is
Trapped in a poem.
She says
What she thinks.
Her words
Fail to break through to the intended

Deep breaths,
She tries again
With her pen.
But finds it hard
To sculpt shapes out of words.
And, finally, loses all senses.

:: The reader - KC

I remember in the beginning,

used to reason over heart, he would 

study me suspiciously, looking for 

signs I didn't purport my words.

It's not all of a sudden

he can finish my lines.

Not all of a sudden

he knows what I don't say.

It took me stubbornness,

it took him some faith.

I still write him poems 

as a means of approach.

N.B.:

- TB writes Under the Toadstool

- These poems are shared with The Real Toads
- Kensi 'n' Tom EP art by Kenia Cris
- Tom suggested we call this spoken word musical style "Trip shop". I adore the idea.
- I find it awesome to have someone you can be both creative and silly with.

They lack the reason to make wise choices

We were what we were
and it was somewhat wise
when wise was a way.

Will wisdom still work
in a weaponized world?

(A Tautogram written for Found Poetry Review Oulipost 5)

(Source article: Deconstructing the Philosophies of RoboCop, by Alva Nöe for NPR)

The biggest lie

"She developed the most effective method of lying. She stayed close enough to the truth so that one could never be sure. She knew two other methods also -- either to interlard her lies with truth or to tell a truth as though it were a lie. If one is accused of a lie and it turns out to be the truth, there is a backlog that will last a long time and protect a number of untruths.” 

― John Steinbeck, East of Eden

I wasn't thinking it.
you are right.
I will love you for life.
I'm grateful you crossed my way.

I understand your motives.
It's fine.
I'll tell you why.
I won't miss you when you go away.

I forgive you.
You're a good guy.
I'm not going to cry.
I'll think about you every day.


(Cuyahoga County Public Library has been sending writing prompts to my e-mail for the month of April, and this is my response to today's: write a 12-line poem in which each line is a lie. Other than the John Steinbeck's words about lying at the top, Hitler's ones also came immediately to my mind: "they themselves often tell small lies in little matters but would be ashamed to resort to large-scale falsehoods." Adolph Hitler,  Mein Kampf)

I wasn't allowed

I required as proper
a thing of some kind
to manage to live
or to be real
without any person
other than implied,

but I didn't possess
a characteristic state
of living
to engage in it
existing in possibility.

(Definitional Lit for the Found Poetry Review Oulipost 3)

(Source article: When I met Jane Goodall, she hugged me like a chimp, by Henry Nicholls for The Guardian, on 3 April 2014.) 
(Source line: “I wanted to be alone, but I wasn’t allowed.”)

Only if

If I were sure
he would  listen,

I'd tell him of how
when someone is open to love

the entire world
becomes responsive.

(A lipogram for Found Poetry Review Oulipost 2)

(Source newspaper title for letter exclusion: Bay Weekly) 

Brains and beauty

It might appear,
The Game and Play of the Chess
is not fitting nor seemly thing for a woman.

We built it slowly over the years,
a cautionary tale for the future:
what's true for men lasts longer.

A Quote Cento for Found Poetry Review Oulipost 1. 

Source article: The women of Westeros

To the first man who left

There are things
we kept secret after
growing up and apart.

Because they were
so dear to our hearts
they became treasures.

My most painful cry still
dwells on the very corner where
you announced you were leaving.

I never watched the stars
or the city lights with anyone else
from our spot.

I visit it occasionally and
you might be glad to hear that
birds live in our place now.

Someone planted a tree there
and its undisturbed shade
reminds me of your arms.

(Written for the Imaginary Garden Sunday Mini Challenge)

Completeness

Since a very early age,

they told me that I was meant to serve,

that I would grow among people to heights

much beyond theirs but I should never forget 

where I came from - 

Use your strength in favor of the weak.

Learn to heal scratches.

Never get too attached.

I have taken names for the sake of true love,

I have cried reading over people's shoulders,

I have witnessed deaths and births,

I have been embraced.

I once fell in love with a man

who sat on the bench nearby and 

observed me for hours in silence.

His breathing around me felt like completeness.

(Written for a writing game with Matthew Temple)
(Note: the persona in this poem is a tree)

The space of the things gone

There was so much of you in the heat last night
my senses wouldn't let me be.

A light in a window somewhere kept me company,
I wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

You spoke to me from the future
and I told you not to come

for I dwell in the taste of all things past now,
while you belong in the space of the things gone.

(a poem in four hands, the other two rest here)