I'd Rather Write A Poem

The Next Door Neighbor

next door to the
Cabin Of Joy
next door 
is where choirs sang
preachers preached
dust settled in the aftermaths of hymns 
sung from faded green books
where uncles
aunts
cousins were packed in the pews
and choir stands
a weekly family reunion

afterwards
Sunday dinners
inhaled between the
amens
and
hallelujahs
consumed in shifts in the small upstairs dining room
children played
but never strayed from beyond the fence next to the
Cabin Of Joy

and on the seventh day
it rested
cigarette smoke
long gone since the morning dew
bottles of gin
consumed by metal trash cans on the curb
the night before
we watched in secret
in the darkness 
from the front window of grandma's house 
right across the street from the
Cabin Of Joy
ta...

Rest, Jesse, Rest

the light was lit
an eternal flame
burning on the front porch
it was left on for you
the front door 
wide open
table set 
with all of your favorite dishes to consume
equality
justice
freedom

journey completed
you can now extinguish the lamp in your hand
I know your arms are tired 
from holding it all of these years
I know your feet are dusty
so many miles travelled
uneven terrain
broad highways
and 
roads less travelled
unseasonable weather
storms
appearing out of nowhere
hidden from behind conniving mountaintops
and no decent covering available to you

the door is open
come inside
dust off your trousers
let me bandage your scars

here
have a cool drink of water
lay your dirty garments to the side
you won't need to wear them anymore...

Til Death Do Us Part

forever 
penned in poetry
prose
Hallmark cards 
letters 
calls
texts
from places where I can’t get next to you

the
"I do"
part
up to the 
"ashes to ashes"
part

but 
nothing is promised
Las Vegas 
giving tomorrow even odds

seen and heard about
forevers 
ending in the strangest places and times
here today
gone 
while they lay themselves down to sleep
joy 
the preacher promised me
but absent in the morning

so 
I ain’t gonna bore you with empty words
promises 
my love for you would like to make 
so you can rush off to the lottery man
cash in your scratch off
winning ticket
for sure
forever
is keeping the battery fresh in my watch
listening to th...

At Fifteen

it was in this year
clouds of innocence were slowly removed 
from my freshly minted fifteen-year-old eyes

windshield wipers 
in the spring rain storms
yet
clearly seeing
experiencing 
the wonders
the frustrations
the cruelty
the humanity
the reality 
of my world

it was in this year
discovering words 
written
spoken 
could be steamed
fried
prepared to order
and sometimes microwaved

remembering
digesting them
after being served 
thoroughly minced 
diced
sprinkled with a little brown sugar
washed down with a cold soda

it was in this year
preparing
serving 
words for others to digest

interesting to note 
words 
taste differently to each tongue
onion flavored
bi...

Love Poem V (1976)

if I could
I would cover the world with your love
blanketing it all with the warmth of
you
like a fireplace amidst the winter's cold
wisely 
yet sparingly sprinkling your love to the world
me
the sole user of the control panel

if I could
I would replace the sky with you
your radiance would illuminate the darkest of nights
wishing upon the stars 
if you will 
if you must
but access to you is limited 
to me

if I could
I would wrap up your smile
in pretty Sunday morning blessings
after showing it off to the world 
all conflict ceasing 
absence of rebellion
of war

and only after the completion 
of the perfect world your love has created
would I take you back
protecting you from all danger

the sky
back where it belongs

your s...

The Music Maker

sometimes I wonder if I am really me
or a just compilation of the greatest hits from Hughes and Baldwin
or a re-released recording of
"Amiri Baraka
Live from the Apollo"
bits and pieces of Brooks
Angelou
The Last Poets
or a collection of unknown writers thrown together 
in some far flung attempt to feed the hungry kids with leftovers from the night before

am I to shop my demo around
as a merchant in some Caribbean marketplace
or on the street from the trunk of my used car
hoping that it makes it into someone's top Spotify
Pandora
or Apple Play list?
 
sometimes I wonder if I am really me
a poet
or just an artist doing live shows today
touring the oldies circuit tomorrow
bloated
in a sparkly used tuxedo
and later reduced to a footnote in literary history

Her Tomb Was Empty

it happened to me
and so
it happened to her

she had to crawl along the uneven cobblestone road
this heavy thing tied to her weary back
bloody knees
bruises 
beaten for her beliefs
her convictions
visions 
the masses could not comprehend
they did not want to comprehend
no pebbles tossed into the placid pond to disturb the status quo
midday sun
searing down upon her wounds
and
she uttered not a word 

reaching the summit
hands nailed into the wood
it was His will
that she should drink from this bitter cup
remembrances of dark days
betrayals
loneliness

how did she get to this moment
to this place
to suffer this fate

then
the clouds parted
the skies cleared
and down came from heaven
a pen
a piece of parchment
a poem
a missio...

You Could Look It Up

make this thing great again
go back in time when folks were happy
safe
confidence in choices made
the very definition of what they are seeking
but can’t 
won’t answer when I ask them
the time 
the people
places
thangs
when they thought it was great
in the very definition of
what they are seeking themselves
maybe it was the time when
what was outlined and written and promised
was never fulfilled

you could look it up

I did
because I just wasn’t curious
I was downright being nosey
and the definition of when this thing became great
the time and place it finally became great
the promise fulfilled
the contract finally signed
sealed
delivered
legal and proper-like
all over the nation
that night when it finally became great
the night when everyone danced in the st...

We Took To The Streets (Another MLK Day thing...)

then
we wore afros and dashikis
and took to the streets with poetic words for our women
militant words for our people
revolutionary words for the establishment
 
incarcerations and interments would soon follow
as sure as Willie’s dice would roll up
7-11
every Saturday night in the back room of Grady’s bar-be-que shack
 
we took to the streets
with the fire of the sun in our eyes
blazing through our black shades
black berets
partially covering our black afros
a sea of black fists in the air
 
God
it was a beautiful sight…
 
then
we took to the streets
burning our neighborhood stores
our homes
our businesses
our lives

that was then…
 
each year thereafter
we took to churches and auditoriums in suits and ties
neatly ...

What A Wonderful World This Would Be (An MLK Day Thing...)

watch out, baby!

be sure to lock your doors and draw your curtains
when you see us strut down your street
with our heads held high
and the morning sun
warmly shining down upon our beautiful black skins
 
hurry!

grab the arms of your young ones
and shove them into the back seats of your luxury SUV's
when you see us out of the corner of your eyes
 
quick!

roll up your windows
slam your feet down upon your accelerators
and don't worry if you happen to run a few red lights
as you flee from our presence
 
here we are!

run, baby, run!
 
we are clean
sober
educated
intelligent
enlightened
able to choose what is best for us
our families
our communities
our world
without any more assistance from you
 
we are dedicated
...