What Others Think About K. Williams and his words:

“Kevin Williams is a dangerous man"

He is the My Space Generation's nightmare; a voice for this day and age that is not restrained by corporate sponsors, advertising restrictions, or external boundaries. And as any honest historian will confide, a point of contact for Truth supersedes any physical threat imaginable. A black belt in Tongue Fu, Kevin gives slices of his soul to the world one page at a time… his gift is the seed planted within the mind destroying stereotypes one syllable at a time.

Yeah, Kevin Williams is a dangerous man.

In Christ,Ezra Boggs”

Who I am not

I am not that six foot something curly haired aquiline nosed wealthy icon that the media tells you to love, and admire
I am not that big broad shouldered cat who can relate to you stories of being a thug, of running from the police for crimes real or imagined
I am not that man who went to the correct college, who hangs with those you admire
I am not the one with the rims on my car, with the large expensive house, or massive bank account
I am not the esteemed Neo-Soul Bohemian with the oh so perfect dredlocks, espousing the virtues of little known artists or avant garde peace movements, I am the cat that you mentally label as one who blends into a background of static noise
One who cannot possibly have an imagination and cannot appreciate an independent woman such as yourself
One who your friends and contemporaries avoid because I look oh so ordinary, because my hair is curly but not curly enough, I am cool but not cool enough
But what you don't know and will never know is that I am the one that will stand not like the Rock of Gibraltar but like a man

I may not have a lot of material wealth but I cherish every thing I have earned
When those other cats that you oh admire pass you by as you run to them for attention realize they cannot appreciate you for you and I shall not be there
I am the one that shall inspire true life legends of perseverance, of dedication of service to our community
I do not hate those mentioned prior, for they are my friends, my brothers, my frat, my compatriots and for every ten of them, there is one of me holding it together so they can be our artisans so they can help plot the next move, I am standing guard so that they can dream and help us to imagine a better time in our lives
But you my sister refuse to see it, refuse to acknowledge a man who hides in sunshine, a man who has to work that nine to five so others can party forever, that I am the hammer that we call on to assist with change
Next time you are out strolling and you pass the garbage man, the teacher, the hourly worker, the cat without the corner office, realize you may have just passed your blessing

(All pieces by K.A. Williams)


And they sang

Urban visions get lifted like haze as I stare out on testaments of man’s efforts to carve homes and experiences out of nothing
It’s early morn and me and my man are cruising in a drop top El Dog, playing Dinah Washington when all around are sounds of the city’s symphony
Sisters and brothers arising making headway to wherever people go during the day hours
Brothers on motor bikes revving engines, some in SUV’s playing lax ladies singing “shake something, move something”,
Wishing he would play that jam where Brenda wrote and Oleta sang about getting there
Hoping he understands that you cherish a woman who gives you the best that she’s got
Oh what sweet rapture life is
Some in late model foreign rides playing NPR, or morning grooves and they are all looking at the brother in the sky blue el Dog with the young cat
We past streets where Bernie Mac worked, where the Prez walked, where Ali cruised, where Jesse marched, where Jordan drove, and where we now exist
I see hood rich cats leaving motels with sisters who they picked and kicked it with for a night seeing her for the first time in the light of the day moving past the episode collecting key deposits on the way back to corner hustling
And I smile
My nephew asks me why I smile and I recollect on life living
On rhythms played by train tracks which provide the bass
Lead guitar the screech of tires racing from red light to red light
The lead singer is the wail of the siren as early morning raids on unsuspected dope boys in their momma’s house
The piano is the homeless man begging for a personal stimulus
The chorus the sound of school kids and adults wishing they could switch places just for a day
And I smile when I think of this lady I encountered how I wish she could be here with me surveying the scene seeing the beauty in the organized chaos of life, releasing the woman in chains, understanding the sweet life
The serenity of the moment, getting lost in Dinah Washington, cruising in a sky blue El Dog, enjoying the hours before the world creeps in, and my nephew asks me Uncle why you smiling and I am thinking of a cool lady I encountered when I was open to being blessed