The Complete Collected Poems, Page 2

They grow the fruit,

  But eat the rind,

  I laugh until I start to crying,

  When I think about my folks.

 

  26

 

  On a Bright Day, Next Week

 

  On a bright day, next week

  Just before the bomb falls

  Just before the world ends,

  Just before I die

 

  All my tears will powder

  Black in dust like ashes

  Black like Buddha's belly

  Black and hot and dry

 

  Then will mercy tumble

  Failing down in godheads

  Falling on the children

  Falling from the sky

 

  27

 

  Letter to an Aspiring Junkie

 

  Let me hip you to the streets,

  Jim,

  Ain't nothing happening.

  Maybe some tomorrows gone up in smoke,

  raggedy preachers, telling a joke

  to lonely, son-less old ladies' maids.

 

  Nothing happening,

  Nothing shakin', Jim.

  A slough of young cats riding that

  cold, white horse,

  a grey old monkey on their back, of course

  does rodeo tricks.

 

  No haps, man.

  No haps.

  A worn-out pimp, with a space-age conk,

  setting up some fool for a game of tonk,

  or poker or

  get 'em dead and alive.

 

  The streets?

  Climb into the streets man, like you climb

  into the ass end of a lion.

  Then it's fine.

  It's a bug-a-loo and a shing-a-ling,

  African dreams on a buck-and-a-wing and a prayer.

  That's the streets man,

  Nothing happening.

 

  29

 

  Miss Scarlett, Mr. Rhett and Other Latter-Day Saints

 

  Novitiates sing Ave

  Before the whipping posts,

  Criss-crossing their breasts and

  tear-stained robes

  in the yielding dark.

 

  Animated by the human sacrifice

  (Golgotha in black-face)

  Priests glow purely white on the

  bas-relief of a plantation shrine.

 

  (O Sing)

  You are gone but not forgotten

  Hail, Scarlett. Requiescat in pace.

 

  God-Makers smear brushes in

  blood/gall

  to etch frescoes on your

  ceilinged tomb.

 

  (O Sing)

  Hosanna, King Kotton.

 

  Shadowed couplings of infidels

  tempt stigmata from the nipples

  of your true-believers.

  (Chant Maternoster)

  Hallowed Little Eva.

 

  Ministers make novena with the

  charred bones of four

  very small

  very black

  very young children

 

  (Intone DIXIE)

 

  And guard the relics

  of your intact hymen

  daily putting to death,

  into eternity,

  The stud, his seed,

  His seed

  His seed.

 

  (O Sing)

  Hallelujah, pure Scarlett

  Blessed Rhett, the Martyr.

 

  31

 

  Times-Square-Shoeshine-Composition

 

  I'm the best that ever done it

  (pow pow)

  that's my title and I won it

  (pow pow)

  I ain't lying, I'm the best

  (pow pow)

  Come and put me to the test

  (pow pow)

 

  I'll clean 'em til they squeak

  (pow pow)

  In the middle of next week,

  (pow pow)

  I'll shine 'em til they whine

  (pow pow)

  Till they call me master mine

  (pow pow)

 

  For a quarter and a dime

  (pow pow)

  You can get the dee luxe shine

  (pow pow)

  Say you wanta pay a quarter?

  (pow pow)

  Then you give that to your daughter

  (pow pow)

 

  I ain't playing dozens mister

  (pow pow)

  You can give it to your sister

  (pow pow)

  Any way you want to read it

  (pow pow)

  Maybe it's your momma need it.

  (pow pow)

 

  Say I'm like a greedy bigot,

  (pow pow)

  I'm a cap'tilist, can you dig it?

  (pow pow)

 

  33

 

  Faces

 

  Faces and more remember

  then reject

  the brown caramel days of youth

  Reject the sun-sucked tit of

  childhood mornings.

  Poke a muzzle of war in the trust frozen eyes of a favored doll

  Breathe, Brother

  and displace a moment's hate with organized love.

  A poet screams "CHRIST WAITS AT THE SUBWAY!"

  But who sees?

 

  34

 

  To a Freedom Fighter

 

  You drink a bitter draught.

  I sip the tears your eyes fight to hold

  A cup of lees, of henbane steeped in chaff.

  Your breast is hot,

  Your anger black and cold,

  Through evening's rest, you dream

  I hear the moans, you die a thousands' death.

  When cane straps flog the body

  dark and lean, you feel the blow,

  I hear it in your breath.

 

  35

 

  Riot: 60's

 

  Our

  YOUR FRIEND CHARLIE pawnshop

  was a glorious blaze

  I heard the flames lick

  then eat the trays

  of zircons

  mounted in red gold alloys

 

  Easter clothes and stolen furs

  burned in the attic

  radios and teevees

  crackled with static

  plugged in

  only to a racial outlet

 

  Some

  thought the FRIENDLY FINANCE FURNITURE CO.

  burned higher

  When a leopard print sofa with gold legs

  (which makes into a bed)

  caught fire

  an admiring groan from the waiting horde

  "Absentee landlord

  you got that shit"

 

  Lighting: a hundred Watts

  Detroit, Newark and New York

  Screeching nerves, exploding minds

  lives tied to

  a policeman's whistle

  a welfare worker's doorbell

  finger.

 

  Hospitality, southern-style

  corn pone grits and you-all smile

  whole blocks novae

  brand new stars

  policemen caught in their

  brand new cars

  Chugga chugga chigga

  git me one nigga

  lootin' n burnin'

 
he won't git far

 

  Watermelons, summer ripe

  grey neck bones and boiling tripe

  supermarket roastin like the

  noon-day sun

  national guard nervous with his shiny gun

  goose the motor quicker

  here's my nigga picka

  shoot him in the belly

  shoot him while he run.

 

  37

 

  We Saw Beyond Our Seeming

 

  We saw beyond our seeming

  These days of bloodied screaming

 

  Of children dying bloated

  Out where the lilies floated

 

  Of men all noosed and dangling

  Within the temples strangling

 

  Our guilt grey fungus growing

  We knew and lied our knowing

 

  Deafened and unwilling

  We aided in the killing

 

  And now our souls lie broken

  Dry tablets without token.

 

  38

 

  Black Ode

 

  Your beauty is a thunder

  and I am set a wandering�a wandering

  Deafened

  Down twilight tin-can alleys

  And moist sounds

  "OOo wee Baby, Look what you could get if your name

  was Willie"

 

  Oh, to dip your words like snuff.

 

  A laughter, black and streaming

  And I am come a being�a being

  Rounded

  Up Baptist, aisles, so moaning

  And moist sounds

  "Bless her heart. Take your bed and walk.

  You been heavy burdened"

  Oh, to lick your love like tears.

 

  39

 

  No No No No

 

  No

  the two legg'd beasts that walk like men

  play stink finger in their crusty asses

  while crackling babies

  in napalm coats

  stretch mouths to receive

  burning tears

  on splitting tongues

  JUST GIVE ME A COOL DRINK OF WATER 'FORE I DIIIE

 

  No

  the gap legg'd whore

  of the eastern shore

  enticing Europe to COME

  in her

  and turn her pigeon shit back to me

  to me

  Who stoked the coal that drove the ships

  which brought her over the sinuous cemetery

  Of my many brothers

 

  No

  the cocktailed after noons

  of what can I do.

  In my white layed pink world

  I've let your men cram my mouth

  with their black throbbing hate

  and I swallowed after

  I've let your mammies

  steal from my kitchens

  (I was always half-amused)

  I've chuckled the chins of

  your topsy-haired pickaninnies.

  What more can I do?

  I'll never be black like you.

  (HALLELUJAH)

 

  No

  the red-shoed priests riding

  palanquined

  in barefoot children country.

  The plastered saints gazing down

  beneficently

  on kneeling mothers

  picking undigested beans

  from yesterday's shit.

  I have waited

  toes curled, hat rolled

  heart and genitals

  in hand

  on the back porches

  of forever

  in the kitchens and fields

  of rejections

  on the cold marble steps

  of America's White Out-House

  in the drop seats of buses

  and the open flies of war

 

  No more

  the dream that you

  will cease haunting me

  down in fetid swamps of fear

  and will turn to embrace your own

  humanity

  which I AM

 

  No more

  The hope that

  the razored insults

  which mercury slide over your tongue

  will be forgotten

  and you will learn the words of love

  Mother Brother Father Sister Lover Friend

 

  My hopes

  dying slowly

  rose petals falling

  beneath an autumn red moon

  will not adorn your unmarked graves

 

  My dreams

  lying quietly

  a dark pool under the trees

  will not carry your name

  to a forgetful shore

  And what a pity

 

  What a pity

  That pity has folded in upon itself

  an old man's mouth

  whose teeth are gone

  and I have no pity.

 

  43

 

  My Guilt

 

  My guilt is "slavery's chains," too long

  the clang of iron falls down the years.

  This brother's sold. This sister's gone

  is bitter wax, lining my ears.

  My guilt made music with the tears.

 

  My crime is "heroes, dead and gone"

  dead Vesey, Turner, Gabriel,

  dead Malcolm, Marcus, Martin King.

  They fought too hard, they loved too well.

  My crime is I'm alive to tell.

 

  My sin is "hanging from a tree"

  I do not scream, it makes me proud.

  I take to dying like a man.

  I do it to impress the crowd.

  My sin lies in not screaming loud.

 

  44

 

  The Calling of Names

 

  He went to being called a Colored man

  after answering to "hey nigger,"

  Now that's a big jump,

  anyway you figger.

  Hey, Baby, Watch my smoke.

  From colored man to Negro

  With the N in caps,

  was like saying Japanese

  instead of saying Japs.

  I mean, during the war.

  The next big step

  was a change for true,

  From Negro in caps

  to being a Jew.

  Now, Sing Yiddish Mama.

  Light, Yellow, Brown

  and Dark brown skin,

  were o.k. colors to

  describe him then,

  He was a Bouquet of Roses.

  He changed his seasons

  like an almanac,

  Now you'll get hurt

  if you don't call him "Black."

  Nigguh, I ain't playin' this time.

 

  45

 

  On Working White Liberals

 

  I don't ask the Foreign Legion

  Or anyone to win my freedom

  Or to fight my battle better than I can,

 

  Though there's one thing that I cry for

  I believe enough to die for

  That is every man's responsibility to man.

 

  I'm afraid they'll have to prove first

  that they'll watch the Black man move first

  Then follow him with faith to kingdo
m come,

  This rocky road is not paved for us,

  So, I'll believe in Liberal's aid for us

  When I see a white man load a Black man's gun.

 

  46

 

  Sepia Fashion Show

 

  Their hair, pomaded, faces jaded

  bones protruding, hip-wise,

  The models strutted, backed and butted,

  Then stuck their mouths out, lip-wise.

 

  They'd nasty manners, held like banners,

  while they looked down their nose-wise,

  I'd see 'em in hell, before they'd sell

  me one thing they're wearing, clothes-wise.

 

  The Black Bourgeois, who all say "yah"

  When yeah is what they're meaning

  Should look around, both up and down

  before they set out preening.

 

  "Indeed" they swear, "that's what I'll wear

  When I go country-clubbing,"

  I'd remind them please, look at those knees

  you got a Miss Ann's scrubbing.

 

  47

 

  The Thirteens (Black)

 

  Your Momma took to shouting

  Your Poppa's gone to war,

  Your sister's in the streets

  Your brother's in the bar,

  The thirteens. Right On.

 

  Your cousin's taking smack

  Your Uncle's in the joint,

  Your buddy's in the gutter

  Shooting for his point

  The thirteens. Right On.

 

  And you, you make me sorry

  You out here by yourself,

  I'd call you something dirty,

  But there just ain't nothing left,

  cept

  The thirteens. Right On.

 

  48

 

  The Thirteens (White)

 

  Your Momma kissed the chauffeur,

  Your Poppa balled the cook,

  Your sister did the dirty,

  in the middle of the book,

  The thirteens. Right On.

 

  Your daughter wears a jock strap,

  Your son he wears a bra

  Your brother jonesed your cousin

  in the back seat of the car.

  The thirteens. Right On.

 

  Your money thinks you're something

  But if I'd learned to curse,

  I'd tell you what your name is

  But there just ain't nothing worse

  than

  The thirteens. Right On.

 

  49

 

  Harlem Hopscotch

 

  One foot down, then hop! It's hot.

  Good things for the ones that's got.

  Another jump, now to the left.

  Everybody for hisself.

 

  In the air, now both feet down.

  Since you black, don't stick around.

  Food is gone, the rent is due,

  Curse and cry and then jump two.

 

  All the people out of work,

  Hold for three, then twist and jerk.

  Cross the line, they count you out.

  That's what hopping's all about.

 

  Both feet flat, the game is done.

  They think I lost. I think I won.

 

  50

 

  OH PRAY MY WINGS

  ARE GONNA

  FIT ME WELL

 

  to PAUL

 

  PART ONE

 

  Pickin Em Up and Layin Em Down

 

  There's a long-legged girl

  in San Francisco

  by the Golden Gate.

  She said she'd give me all I wanted

  but I just couldn't wait.

  I started to

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  gettin to the next town

  Baby.

 

  There's a pretty brown

  in Birmingham

  Boys, she little and cute

  but when she like to tied me down

  I had to grab my suit and started to

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  gettin to the next town

  Baby.

 

  I met that lovely Detroit lady

  and thought my time had come

  But just before I said "I do"

  I said "I got to run" and started to

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  gettin to the next town

  Baby.

 

  There ain't no words for what I feel

  about a pretty face

  But if I stay I just might miss

  a prettier one some place

  I start to

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  Pickin em up

  and layin em down,

  gettin to the next town

  Baby.

 

  55

 

  Here's to Adhering

 

  I went to a party

  out in Hollywood,

  The atmosphere was shoddy

  but the drinks were good,

  and that's where I heard you laugh.

 

  I then went cruising

  on an old Greek ship,

  The crew was amusing

  but the guests weren't hip,

  that's where I found your hands.

 

  On to the Sahara

  in a caravan,

  The sun struck like an arrow

  but the nights were grand,

  and that's how I found your chest.

 

  An evening in the Congo

  where the Congo ends,

  I found myself alone, oh

  but I made some friends,

  that's where I saw your face.

 

  I have been devoting

  all my time to get

  Parts of you out floating

  still unglued as yet.

 

  Won't you pull yourself together

 

  For

 

  Me

 

  ONCE

 

  57

 

  On Reaching Forty

 

  Other acquainted years

  sidle

  with modest

  decorum

  across the scrim of toughened

  tears and to a stage

  planked with laughter boards

  and waxed with rueful loss

  But forty

  with the authorized

  brazenness of a uniformed

  cop stomps

  no-knocking

  into the script

  bumps a funky grind on the

  shabby curtain of youth

  and d
elays the action.

 

  Unless you have the inborn

  wisdom

  and grace

  and are clever enough

  to die at

  thirty-nine.

 

  58

 

  The Telephone

 

  It comes in black

  and blue, indecisive

  beige. In red and chaperons my life.

  Sitting like a strict

  and spinstered Aunt

  spiked between my needs

  and need.

 

  It tats the day, crocheting

  other people's lives

  in neat arrangements

  ignoring me

  busy with the hemming

  of strangers' overlong affairs or

  the darning of my

  neighbors' worn-out

  dreams.

 

  From Monday, the morning of the week,

  through mid-times

  noon and Sunday's dying

  light. It sits silent.

  Its needle sound

  does not transfix my ear

  or draw my longing to

  a close.

 

  Ring. Damn you!

 

  59

 

  PART TWO

 

  Passing Time

 

  Your skin like dawn

  Mine like dusk.

 

  One paints the beginning

  of a certain end.