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Kool B

  • Kool B's Wordville 1330
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    • Kool B In Voice
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Kool B

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Unnoticed

A poem unnoticed 

is as a colored child 

sleeping in the dead of night, 

awakened by polished dreams of terror 

and shadow’s light, 

a dim despair 

discarded to the emptiness of time. 

 

There, it isn’t provocative, 

weighed down and drowned  in a river of thoughts, 

made murky by one’s novel ink 

so pressed to cotton 

you can’t see the bottom. 

 

A poem unnoticed 

is as a colored child 

lost without attention 

… quiet from neglect. 

 

Only paper shows its kindness, 

a weary blue shade of simple language 

trapped in solitude, 

never to be disturbed, 

a lazy play of sound 

like Monday’s muse in B flat, 

an oven non-the-less. 

It must sequester every margin of respect. 

 

A poem unnoticed is as a colored child 

sleeping in the dead of night

05/05/2021

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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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