Poetry from Kahlil Crawford

THE PEOPLEWATCHER

He sits in the corner of 
the neighborhood coffeeshop.
He's on his 5th cup.

His stained white shirt hangs from sulking limbs - 
cuffs folded across ashy forearms.

His timepiece is scuffed beyond repair - 
it's missing a link or two and pinching his skin.

His cracked lips are curled in a permanent smirk 
and his wiry grey & brown beard has seen better days - 

brighter than the pale blue pupils 
dug deep behind his eyelids.

He downs his last drop of coffee, 
bums a smoke from the neighboring table 
and walks out the side door.

----

5314 (lungta)*

lite yellow brick 
wrapped around 
the intersection
@ Kimbark & 53rd:

3-levels in the trees
levitating above the
charcoal pavement
& black tar lines ⭐
inhaling the goings-on;

a circumference of
snickering crickets,
staccato Orniths,
flapping leaves,
sticky footsteps
rolling strollers,
khaki mail carts,
gurgling motors
& urgent voices.

the soundtrack:
 
a symphony of
plastic hip-hop,
vinyl soul and 
jeeps booming 
at the stop sign
puncturing the 
steel breeze.

* “lungta” translates to "wind horse"

----

* 遺品整理

My first estate sale is a recurring memory - 
one of several that seem too random to
permanently occupy my mental real estate:

Is it the quaint Ravenswood setting that refuses to abandon my inner vision? 

Or is it the early-mid century architecture that predominates the city's apartment dwellings?;

Perhaps it was the immaculate arrangement of imported artifacts from the deceased's Japanese homeland.

Aesthetically, this estate sale was superior to many of the city museums and most of the galleries that I frequented at the time. 

It was an intimate glimpse into a life I never knew - one that my DNA will always betray.

* “Organizing relics” is to organize the relics left by the deceased. Also known as “disposal of relics”.

----

- A PROPHET OF RAGE -

The tidal wave rose
to reveal a rose that arose
from the ocean floor.

Right where the eagle 
plucked the serpent 
from the falls of fear -

The fall of man 
is the fear of ourselves -

Prophetic light at 
the Islamic pulpit 
revealing a man - 

speaking seances against
the tidal wave rising against 
black enlightenment
beyond the midnight
of low streetlights 
illuminating dice games 
and dicey businesses:
Nation of Islam leader (Prophet of Rage) Louis Farrakhan (born Louis Walcott) speaks from behind a lecturn at Tennessee State University, Nashville, Tennessee, 1969. On the lecturn are a pair of books by Elijah Muhammd, ‘How To Eat To Live’ and ‘Message To The Blackman In America.’ (Photo by Robert Abbott Sengstacke/Getty Images)