a dirge of
desolation on the Cross
and hatred is the ballast of
the rock
which his upon our necks
and underfoot.
We have woven
robes of silk
and clothed our nakedness
with tapestry.
From crawling on this
murky planet’s floor
we soar beyond the
birds and
through the clouds
and edge our waays from hate
and blind despair and
bring horror
to our brothers, and to our sisters cheer.
We grow despite the
horror that we feed
upon our own
tomorrow.
We grow.
a waste of desolation.If nothing wondrous precededthe catastrophic announcements,certainly nothing will follow, savethe sad-eyed faces ofbony children,distended bellies makingmock at their starvation.Why are they alwaysBlack ?Whom do they await ?The lamb-chop fleshreeks and cannot beeaten. Even thegreen peas roll on my plateunmolested. Their innocencematched by the helplesshope in the children’s faces.Why do Black childrenhope ?…
posin’ and preenin’and puttin’ on acts,stretchin’ their backs.They move into condosup over the ranks,pawn their soulsto the local banks.Buying big carsthey can’t afford,ridin’ around townactin’ bored.If they want to learn how to live life rightthey ought to study me on Saturday night.My job at the plantain’t the biggest bet,but I pay my billsand stay out…
and floats downstreamtill the current endsand dips his wingsin the orange sun raysand dares to claim the sky.But a bird that stalksdown his narrow cagecan seldom see throughhis bars of ragehis wings are clipped andhis feet are tiedso he opens his throat to sing.The caged bird singswith fearful trillof the things unknownbut longed for stilland…
to some big ghettoin the skywhere rats eat catsof the leopard typeand Sunday brunchis grits and tripe.I’ve known those ratsI’ve seen them killand grits I’ve hadwould make a hill,or maybe a mountain,so what I needfrom you on Sundayis a different creed.Preacher, please don’tpromise mestreets of goldand milk for free.I stopped all milkat four years oldand…
by the Golden Gate.She said she’d give me all I wantedbut I just couldn’t wait.I started toPickin em upand layin em down,Pickin em upand layin em down,Pickin em upand layin em down,gettin to the next townBaby.There’s a pretty brownin Birmingham.Boys, she little and cutebut when she like to tied me downI had to grab my…
Don’t think I need your chattering.I’m listening to myself.Hold! Stop! Don’t pity me!Hold! Stop your sympathy!Understanding if you got it,Otherwise I’ll do without it!When my bones are stiff and aching,And my feet won’t climb the stair,I will only ask one favor:Don’t bring me no rocking chair.When you see me walking, stumbling,Don’t study and get it…
