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Kool B

  • Kool B's Wordville 1330
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Kool B

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In a Moment Near You 

My wires keep a rapid  pace 

They separate your face from a crowded space 

A looking mirror breaks 

as salacious sounds escape

 

My heart awakes in a moment near you 

. . .  holding a Cinderella shoe 

yet the festive night is through 

There’s nothing left to do but be alone 

 

If only there was a waiting telephone 

ready with an answer to a ring 

. . .  a girlish voice in sing 

 

It must be my childish dream to push your swing 

high into moonlight beams

 

This affection is an awkward green

. . .  blooms with vibrant colors 

my last lover had not seen

 

On the passenger’s side 

It feels like a Cadillac ride 

. . .  sunroof top 

. . . foot on the peddle 

. . . racing and settling beyond all the traffic 

 

My wires keep a rapid pace 

They separate your face from a crowded space 

A looking mirror breaks 

as salacious sounds escape 

My heart awakes in a moment near you.

05/21/2021

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For Alvin LeBlanc, a.k.a. Kool B, a veteran of poetry slams going back to 1990, the South is nothing less than “a literary haven,” with Houston in particular “primed” for poetry. “People in the South talk,” says the 54-year-old LeBlanc, who grew up in Lafayette, La., and came to Houston to study sociology at Texas Southern State University. “They see you down the street, and they want to say something. Southern people are also used to listening to orators, preachers. From all of that, poetry has an ear.” 

LeBlanc, an instructor at the Adult Reading Center, brings his poetry to the people as producer of the online show Wordville and a member of the DJ collective Rebel Crew. In performance, LeBlanc recites his poetry in a way that is fluid, yet sounds unrehearsed, as if the words were being pulled out of thin air. In a performance at the Jazz Church of Houston, with his visor wrapped around his long, braided hair, the bespectacled LeBlanc moves gracefully as he speaks, illustrating each line with slow, simple gestures, like a Tai Chi master talking jazz: A village of windblown desperados in pursuit of a gold train loaded down with precious metals, pressed into bullions that grow like sunset, Texas to California dreamin’… It was the sound of black thunder and gallop that made the canyons quake. Let’s make no mistake about it: There’s no honor among thieves and siege is how the west was won. 

Though poetry has always been a tool for political protest, LeBlanc believes the art often reveals more commonalities than differences. “It brings the races together,” says LeBlanc. “Coming from rural Louisiana, where you would get chased home if you didn’t stay on your side of the city, poetry has shown me that people can work together, that people do have the same heartbreaks and the same anger. Poetry is where you can hear the humanness in people.”

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