Friday, August 05, 2005

Why all the poems?

So it occured to me: Damnit I'm a poet! Considering that there may be a couple of people who read my blog, and contemplating about if I died today or tommorow, I've decided that I don't want a freakin Return of the Sith blurb to be my legacy. In so far as I have a legacy, and in so far as I can impact or in the minutest way shape my legacy; My legacy will be: Poet. Not AIDS Prevention worker, not social worker,not fat queen who hangs out at the Starbucks on 7th street! POET!

So read my poems. These are just some of the nastier ones. Lots of penises in these. I hope that I can share the more revolutionary ones at some point. I have some short stories that I'll post as well.

Please enjoy and be well,

Kevin E. Bynes


Whore’s Confession

I’ve stopped looking at men.
I take them inside of me
Allow them to love me
Without loving me
Ingest them
All while refusing to look at them
Or anything
other than their bodies

I refuse to look at them
Consider them for anything
Other than this moment
Or that we could rest,
In love together, from:

ynkuyaJune 25, 2003



Black men loving Black men
Is the revolutionary act
Our fucking must be the revolution
And if
Our fucking is the revolution
I’d bet we could fuck our way to freedom baby

I bet we could
I bet if you lay down
On your back, your dick in the air
And take the fullness of my ass as I engulf
Your man-ness
I could ride you
Around the world until we
Undo globalization
Until we
We fucked George Bush out of the white house
And out of Iraq!

If you place your front teeth flush
With my nipple between them
If you bite until you taste blood
Smell pain and hear my scream
You could probably play my nipples until
We fucked away sexism, gender bias,
Silence, and
Death from no voice

I believe that Black men loving black men
Is the revolutionary act
So black men fucking black men is
The revolution
I am fucking my way to freedom

Fucking away

If you threw my legs over my shoulders
Entered me, ever so gently
And softly messaged my prostate
While staring into my eyes
Listening to them sing sonnets
And all kinds of funky jazz
To the rhythm of us
I bet we could
Eradicate hunger

If I felt the fullness of you
If I, bathed in pleasure,
Your name
I bet I could scream
Until the sanctions are lifted from Cuba

If I painted pleasure
On your sphincter with
My tongue
Lapped up salty hints
Of musty you onto my pallet
I bet if I licked your ass like that
I bet I could lick until
Hate left the world

This revolution
Being loved

This revolution is
Being fucked without fear

This revolution is
Fucking without fear

This revolution is
Living openly
Loving openly
Fucking openlyI bet we could fuck our way to freedom baby.