Poetry from Kemet Mawakana
aka "The Seven-Foot Poet"
To listen to the audio of "Palm Sunday", click the flash player below.
{mp3}poetry/070_7ftpoet_palmsunday{/mp3}
Palm Sunday
I grabbed Hugo Boss by the collar
- not the man - the suit
that even with a two-thousand dollar discount
retailed for more than 1, 2, 3, fo'
of my father's goodgovernmentjobretirementpensionchecks.
It would insult the foo-foo shi-shi crowd if I referred to its color as brown
actually it was chocolate with a hint of mauve underlay.
Laced up my custom made Kenneth Cole shoes
that you can't get at the mall
a spray of Givenchy cologne check the Versace tie - and we're off!
Church was packed
like a rush hour subway car that lacked a/c and adequate seating
speaking prohibited - just like on the subway.
Never met nobody on there
people don't speak
just driven to drop off points
by somebody with a microphone - just like at church.
It was a rainy Sunday morning
all I could think about was the good sleeping weather and good sleep
I had given up to squeeze into a - pew
on this Palm Sunday.
By the time the sermon started I had recouped my losses - Zzzzz, Zzzzzz.
an old lady nudged me I looked left looked right
light-headedness caused me dizziness - just like on the subway.
When you're hungry but you don't eat
because something smells foul like - pugh
besides anyway eating is prohibited on the subway - just like at church.
The offering plates had already gone around early cause it was
Palm Sunday but now that the preacher was finished
so they passed the plates again - just like on the subway.
You pay when you get on
and then you pay again at add fare just to get out
because at certain times it cost more than others.
I'm surprised more people don't just run out
but they got people and cameras watching you - just like at church.
They say they ain't cause they godly people
but they know who gave what
and they watch each other business like they were Seiko and Timex
-- just like on the subway.
You never quite really feel too safe
got to keep a little edge to you especially when you dressed
in your Sunday best
because peoplez is envious think you gots lots of money
and they might hate on you - just like at church.
When you're leaving after you heard the sermon
you're dressed in your Sunday best
and peoplez and cameras are watchin' you - just like on the subway.
Checkin' out the clothes you wear
the jewelry you got on
because peoplez is envious think you gots lots of money
and they might hate on you - just like at church.
but you get sorta home sorta safely anyway - just like on the subway.
And you know there's a better way a healthier way a more direct way
to get where you're really trying to go
to get home to get community to get original spirituality
but all you know and all you've known
and what you've become comfortable with and accustomed to
is using the
bus
subway
baptist
catholic
the bus
subway
muslim
protestant
anyway - you continue to use it - the subway - just like church
The subway - the church - the subway - the church
both taking you under
to get you sorta near where you're trying to go
but you gotta take the initiative
up you mighty people, stand and walk to your destination
Sankofa! Full Speed Ahead Collective Self-determination
- just like on the subway.
Kemit Mawakana (aka "The Seven-Foot Poet") is a highly acclaimed spoken-word artist, and has published two books A . . . Z . . . Infinity and Crucifixion of My Soul. The collective body of his works presented weekly in BAR are in tribute to Listervelt Middleton, Dr. John Henrik Clarke, and "For The People." Currently, he is a facilitator at AYA Educational Institute (www.ayaed.com) and can be reached at sevenfootpoet@gmail.com.
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Copyright 2005.
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