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Kool B

  • Kool B's Wordville 1330
  • About
  • Music
    • Kool B In Voice
  • Shows
  • Photos
  • Store
  • Contact
  • Videos
    • Videos
    • Videos

Kool B

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Apr 26 2021

A Poem a Houston Woman


Her dark brickwork eyes spoke Houston 

Without question 

Undeniably coffee brown 

She stopped traffic like loaded rush hour rain 

. . . Stood out like the pregnant skyline 

scraping the ashen clouds 

She needed no attention 

Her ginger skin magnetized 

…

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Mar 19 2021

Quiet like a Book

Quiet Like a Book           #45

 

Quiet like a book 

She holds a turn of pages 

closed and waiting to open 

on their own 

They need a hand to ease the bind 
 

Ruby doesn’t read romance 

She’s a writer 

Her poems…

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Jan 11 2021

Willie and Savanna Jones

                                                                         


She wore her lipstick red without regret

Heaven was a simple place where quiet was kept

Savanna slept near a set of tatty railroad tracks,

each ran parallel . . . to and fro,

as if they knew in advance…

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Oct 5 2020

Black Shakespeare

Black Shakespeare 

Somewhere 
underneath 
a forgotten rainbow 
a colored boy sighs 
fresh out of tries 
crosswise 
with the weight of postulating worlds 
pearling in his wide-eyed gaze 
betangled by an amusing maze of letters 
coffee stained sweater 
sky falling all

…Read more

Jul 24 2020

Buried in a Lost Poem

 

Truth buried shallow 

in a lost poem 

. . . born in a speed trap city 

. . .  grew up in a one-horse town. 

All he knew was hasty paper. 

It blew in the agile wind like thrown litter…

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Jul 24 2020

Lucky Has Her blushing T-shirt On

Luck Has Her Blushing T-shirt On 

 

Lucky has her blushing T-shirt on 

. . . seven doting stars in the night skies 

      One plunges from the corner of my eye 

Lucky has her buoyant moon in orbit 

A baffling galaxy…

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Jun 30 2020

Let's Burn a few Books! Are you Down?

Let us burn a few Books! Are you down? 

Maybe we should burn some of the books too. You know . . . the books we had to read in primary and secondary school. The ones they, white educators, used…

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Apr 28 2020

A Poem for April . . . What of Broken Places?

What of a broken place, 

ceaseless actions of muted despair, 

. . . soundless in a crack’s somber crevice, 

shattered starless like windows struck by light 

reflecting from a murky mirror’s throw of shine 

floating on summer’s torrid air? 

What…

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Apr 1 2020

Return of the natural Poet

The Return of a Natural Poet 

Often in the literary world, there are times when the production of commercial works seep beyond the boundaries of authentic endeavors. The accomplishments of skilled writers go unnoticed by readers at large and are…

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Feb 6 2020

Hello...

Hello 

            Like deep blue ocean 

as far as a stretch of eyes can see, 

Like swaying daisies in a field of laughing memories, 

Like your whisper ringing 'round my open head, 

I can't forget the first time you said 

hello. 

…

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Jan 14 2020

Self-reflection of a Writer

Self-reflection of a Writer: A Mini Conversation With Kool B.

By Wordville Staff Writer Bingo Lee

What make you so prolific B?

B says, "As a prolific writer, I find the challenge of maintaining a constant output of material daunting…

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Dec 12 2019

Amorous Mood

I’m in an amorous mood 
A feverish heart with nothing to prove 
A slice of crimson moon is near and full 
Fervent stars are in promise of twinkle 
The childish night has nothing to loose 
I’m in an amorous mood …

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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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