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Color Me Pretty – Poetry


Hello All!  I hope this post finds you all happy and healthy, especially after the devastation of Hurricane Sandy.  I wanted to remind you that this blog will be taken down soon.  Please go to my new blog at http://www.kimekofarrar.com and subscribe there.  The site has an updated look, better functionality and a new URL address but the content is the same!

I recorded a video to submit to a talent agent and decided that I should  share the video with you guys too!!  The talent agent might think I suck but you guys seem to get what I do  🙂   I wrote Color Me Pretty after I decided to wear my hair natural. I was probably less than a year post BC. For those of you who are not familiar with the term, BC as in big chop, is where I cut the chemical relaxer from my hair down to its virgin kinky curly state. Anyway, I really don’t care what people do with their hair but I always think about our decisions when it comes to beauty and the way our appearance affect us psychologically. I could talk about it more but I think the poem says it all.  Please let me know what you think of the piece.  You can find it on my You Tube channel.  Click Link—>  “Color Me Pretty”

P.S. Don’t forgot to subscribe to the new blog(www.kimekofarrar.com) to receive all my updates by email!!  If you want to keep up with my videos, please feel free to subscribe to my You Tube channel (www.youtube.com/meko1908). Smoochies!!

Kimeko

Luxury Awaits


Believe You Can Achieve Amazing Things!

Today I’m reminded that things happen exactly as they are supposed to. I’ve always heard the saying, “if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plan”. I’m sure he’s had plenty gutt busting laughs because of me and my to-do lists! So today, instead of focusing on what I don’t have, what I haven’t accomplished and the struggles and missed milestones that lie ahead (yes, I know there will be some) I want to celebrate the small victories even though I know the best is yet to come. Most of you know that I submitted a performance clip for season 2 of TVOne’s Verses & Flow. Verses & Flow, sponsored by Lexus, is a new television show spotlighting poetry and music. Remember HBO’s Def Poetry Jam? Well, it’s similar to that. If you haven’t watched the show check it out!

Anyway, a few hours before the deadline I managed to submit a shorter version of The Revolution Ain’t on Blu-Ray. (link to my You Tube vid- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=biHjZ6yV6io) Why was it shorter you ask? Well, because that piece is originally 5 minutes long and the submissions had to be under 3 minutes. Geez, editing the poem was like deciding which of my vital organs I wanted to keep. I took out 2 minutes of the poem, recorded it with my Canon Cyber Shot and posted it to You Tube. I thought I was pretty fly too, but unfortunately as fly as I was, I didn’t make it on the show. 😦 Yeah bummer! But my submission was one of the top five so I get some kudos for that right?

Getting that submission done was a lot of work but what I really wanted to say is nothing is in vain when you believe in what you’re trying to accomplish. It’s not all about the win but the journey and what you gain or give along the way. And for me, who knows, there’s always Season 3 🙂 As a bonus for being in the top 5 submissions I was interviewed for the Luxury Awaits article copied below. My first official interview! Whoop whoop! The original article can also be found on http://luxuryawaits.com/lifestyle/submissions.aspx?nav=Scroll

I hope you’ll take a few minutes to read it! Your victory is my victory. My victory is your victory. Our victories give empowerment to the people!

Kimeko “Chick Under Construction” Farrar…. That really tickles me LOL

Verses & Flow Luxury Awaits

Verses & Flow Season 2 Submissions

One of the most exciting aspects of putting together the second season of LEXUS Presents Verses & Flow has been the submission process. Thousands of potential participants sent in their very best performance pieces to versesandflow.com before the May 15th deadline, with each poet displaying their own unique style and love of words.

There were a few artists that stood out among the many who submitted, like Adam “Rage Almighty” Tench, who called the submissions rules “very easy to follow, even though it was torture trying to make sure I sent in the right poem. I wanted to be sure to include a piece that showed how good I was with crowds.” And that he did. The two year poet, who claims that going to a spoken word event with his cousin saved his life, submitted his ode to early motherhood with the piece “The Science to Loving A Pregnant Woman,’ or, as it’s more often called, “The Stretchmarks Poem.”

Finding inner peace was more important than finding a piece to submit for Willette-Angelic “Angelique” Palmer. The Manassas, VA resident called the submissions page “easy to navigate,” but found that it took the better part of two days to convince herself that she was good enough to toss her words into the ring. She finally exhaled, sending in her most poignant prose, “Nostalgia Sticks to Skin,” which is a war cry to abusive fathers everywhere.

Kimeko “Chick Under Construction” Farrar hadn’t even heard about the show’s first season, instead becoming aware of it after Season One stalwart Georgia Me performed at a venue in her hometown of Huntsville, Alabama. “I got excited after hearing about it,” she remembers, adding that folks kept calling her to make sure she submitted. Farrar, who started writing and performing poetry soon after one of her mentors was shot and killed as part of a massive school shooting, shared what she calls her signature piece, “The Revolution Ain’t On Blu-Ray,” a universal piece about the need to read that has as much impact in a church as it does in a school.

Evrick “Tro’juan Soule” Henderson wasn’t sure what to submit after a friend told him about the show’s call for poets. “It was a challenge,” he recalls, saying that he wanted to send something folks could relate to, “nothing too heavy.” The Dallas native, who remembers the day he decided to take poetry seriously–Valentine’s Day 2009–and finds himself studying the parallels between rapper Nas and poet Langston Hughes, finally decided on the poem written in honor of his mother, “Letter to You.’

These are just a sample from the thousands that submitted for the second season. And while it wasn’t possible to welcome each and every one of them to the Season Two stage, their submissions are a bold reminder of just how vast and talented the spoken word community remains.
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For more updates on Season Two of Verses & Flow, including all announcements and features, please stay tuned to luxuryawaits.com and versesandflow.com.

“Eye Water to Cry With” (Flash Fiction)… Chapter 1: Mya Monroe


Hello All! It’s Flash Fiction Tuesday!! I’m going to try something new for the next few weeks so let me know what you think. Instead of writing a complete story every other Tuesday I will write a short story, “Eye Water to Cry With”, using four to six 300 word chapters. Chapter 1 is Mya Monroe so let’s just see where this journey takes us because even I don’t know how it will end yet!! 🙂 Enjoy!
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Mya folded a piece of paper between her fingers and stared intensely at the number 219 printed on it. Her wide hips sunk into the soft red leather of the back booth and she scrunched her face in the most uninviting way possible. It was an unconscious technique for looking less attractive. With the exception of her job as a tenured business professor at Georgia State, she was much more comfortable flying under the radar and avoiding unnecessary attention. But Jonas, all 6 feet 4 inches of him, was made to be seen. His muscles rippled like silk in an April breeze as he wheeled crates of wine into Lindsey’s.

Lindsey’s was the upscale restaurant where Mya normally met her fiancé, Harold, once a week for lunch. Harold and his father, Dexter Woody, owned several restaurants and event centers in Georgia and Washington, DC. Every Thursday, for the past three months, Jonas delivered Harlem Wines to the Lindsey’s that Harold personally managed in Atlanta. Jonas was blue-collar, country, and rough around the edges but Mya was drawn to his swagger. He walked to the rhythm of smooth jazz and his smile was sexier than polished platinum.

“It seems we have a standing date for Thursdays.” Jonas extended his hand to say hello.

“I guess I just love the view on Thursdays.” Mya wished she had told him about her fiancé instead of openly flirting.

“I know some views that look pretty good on Saturdays too.” He handed her his card.

“How cute, a delivery guy with a business card,” Mya thought.

She stared at her piece of paper again. The 219 made her reevaluate her life and everything she knew and loved. Anxiety clinched her stomach. She slid the card inside her purse just as Harold walked in.

Cornbread Pimp – Flash Fiction Tuesday


I hope everyone has a happy and blessed Thanksgiving next week!!!
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You Gon' Eat Yo Cornbread...

Every Thanksgiving, our family has a soul food gathering at Aunt Bertha’s house. While the men watch football, we women congregate in the kitchen and gossip about fake church ladies, bad weaves and whose house is about to be foreclosed on. My sister Junie, the oldest of the Maple sisters, has the job of checking the paper for foreclosures before she comes. After much laughter and much wine, we eventually get around to cooking. For the most part, our holidays are pretty normal until we bring up cornbread.

Every year, for about eight years, we’ve tried to find a nice way to tell our baby sister, Darla, that we’re disgusted by her cornbread. If it were good there wouldn’t be an issue but the stuff is so bad that “Can’t Get Right” could have used it for batting practice in the movie Life. Because Daddy told her she made the best cornbread, Darla has been pushing all kinds of concoctions like cornbread pudding and barbecue cornbread down our throats. She thinks she’s Mavis Stewart, Martha Stewart’s lost black cousin, but her cooking is terrible.

“What are you doing?” Darla watched Junie remove a hot pan of cornbread from the oven. I braced for the fallout.

“Making cornbread.”

“You know Daddy likes my cornbread best.”

“Darla, eating your cornbread is like sopping pintos with cardboard. Sorry, but somebody had to tell you.”

“Liar! Let’s see what Daddy says.”

After a few minutes we sat down to eat.

“Daddy, you love cornbread. Try some.”

Daddy had that oh damn look on his face. Without a word, he bit into a piece and his face lit up.

“I’m glad you finally learned to make good cornbread baby girl. Lord knows I didn’t think it would take this long.”

Junie only gloated a little.

Weed Out the Losers… (Flash Fiction Tuesday)


You Jam Right!!!

Josephine was known as the Blackberry Queen of Monroe County. She could make a rotten muscadine taste good. The Piggly Wiggly couldn’t keep white bread on the shelves after canning season. And it wasn’t uncommon to see a grown man licking an empty jar of Josephine’s Jam. The whole town craved it like a pregnant woman craved pickles. Lizzy made some pretty good jam too, but it didn’t have people fighting on aisle 5 like Josephine’s did.

When Josephine suddenly passed away, naturally, Lizzy thought she’d be the next Queen. She even designed new labels for her jars. But just like that, the town’s appetite for jam fizzled and Lizzy’s jars were left to collect dust. Even in death, Josephine’s jam had beaten hers so she just stopped making it.

“Grandmama, why can’t we just make blackberry juice?”

Lizzy looked at her granddaughter. She wore tube socks as gloves and her overalls were covered in turpentine to keep the snakes away. She was teaching little Rosie the fine art of blackberry picking.

“There’s apple, pineapple and orange, but no blackberry juice”, Rosie explained.

“Child, nobody wants blackberry juice. It’s too bitter.”

“I bet you could make it sweet Grandmama. Then everyone will buy it and you can get your hero back.”

“That’s mojo, and stop listening when your Mama’s on the phone.”

With their bucket half filled, they walked past Josephine’s house and headed home. Policemen were carrying shovels and news crews were everywhere.

“Its just jam, people! Surely she didn’t hide her recipe in the yard!”

The crowd rushed over to her. She dreaded having to say more nice things about Josephine on TV.

“What do you think about the news”, a reporter asked.

Lizzy looked confused.

“You haven’t heard? Josephine’s Jam is laced with marijuana.”

Lizzy smiled.

Wasted Breath…


She asked me what I thought and I told her everything
Everything I had read and heard and seen and gone through myself
And I told her with a smile
With no hate, envy or ulterior motives
Just love
Being careful to think only of her and not myself
With each word I spoke she nodded her head in agreement
She even said an amen or two
But I knew
I knew as she fidgeted with her hair that her mind had left the room
I wasn’t really speaking the words she wanted to hear
But I never did
You don’t milk a cow expecting to drink juice do you?
But still
She would ask and I would give
Even as she began to dream up another plan
One more feasible to her
A plan very different from the one we discussed
One that would not meet my approval of course
Because it was rooted in fantasy, not reality
I saw what she could not see
But I could not force my hand with my friend
In the end
I hugged her, said goodbye and wished her the best
I felt the déjà vu of the conversation
I knew we would be having it again, soon
Since she had not listened or learned anything
Since the last blue moon

Baby Queen…


After performing at an open mic to honor the memory of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I was still on a poetic high several days later. I posted a short poem on Facebook and then decided to add a few lines to the original version and share here as well….

She sleeps in lip gloss and earrings
So she can dream pretty dreams
Shuns the simple things, opts for the extreme
Has goals smaller than the lumps on a pre-teen
Craves the attention to be seen
Those of you with daughters know what I mean
It’s time for some of us to intervene
Pull the societal pacifier – wean
…she has to be taught to be a Queen!

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