keni - Hello Poetry

keni Feb 2022

Planes

Flat yellow ground
The prairie I've known,
the old and new grounds.
Walking away from the lonesome day.
I've asked with a whimsical rays
like as of basquiat.

The green of the night
follows the yellow of the
everlasting warmth
surrounding the north.
The chant of the wind
and its sores in the afternoon.
I'm not there but
"Oh, I'd like to see it once more."

keni Feb 2022

The road to the petals and chains.

Wondering if I'm still
in the same road I chose
If I were to land in the
same quadrant
as you told me,
in that poem.

Petals had heard better lies
like the summer's betrayal
home I was,
walking as one.

Andromeda was hopeless,
as the waves took me back
and the maroon colored sea
and I lay on the petals.

To vandalize my life,
the leafs know my name,
Treachery, my friends, again.
So I wait on the petals
so they suffocate me.

keni Feb 2022

Naranja

Vanity of the boys,
cascading tears and
the hair that moves
along orange zest
and spiral ends.

Although the sun shines
through one side
of the everlasting,
orange. We move,
we rotate.

The faces change.
Your shoulders hunch.
But the moon was
once a plump orange.

keni Jan 2022

A gown to wear

To impress the souls
that bare their
pace in these
crowded hallways.

Uneasy blue,
fluorescent lights.
You suddenly walk slowly.
A side eye, a glimpse,
of a crescent moon
that won't dare change direction.

Grief, jealousy, disappointment.
My gown glowing.
Standing feeling weak.
The walls are loud.

Walking away like
the contact of our eyes,
"I lost something."
But remembering
calls you, and I have
lost you.

keni Jan 2022

°°

No, I gave up.
Concept that I cant swallow
Because it swallows me.
Like the time I'd ask for
Things and the answer was
To think older.

Now, I still think the same.
A child who cant fend for themselves,
or
Speak in manner,
or
Right
or
Securely attached to the
Rope of ideas and hopes.

When the music
Is over and the repeating
Screeching sound of
The needle on the record I
Ask,
"Selfish to ask
for it to stop?"

Thorns are stuck onto
My foot as I walk.
And I am a forest
and I am the fire.

Lack of oxygen on a Tuesday afternoon, still forest burns.

keni Jan 2022

Metamorphosis

They've walked a lot.
They've heard and wondered;
and again in the same spot
jumped and seen.
physiotherapist, they call
the way they move
the emotion through my skin
and I lay as I am eaten all again.

keni Jan 2022

trousers of the night

I watch the kids.
Brown broken glass
around them.

Over it I fell,
Peace and glory to the night
Showing you that an
image is free and indulgent
permissive and letting.

To discover a name,
a sweet nothing in my ear and to believe
that the future is near.

I stare that, of eyes and I hold in my hand, lies.