Help Wanted

She faxes
She phones
And dials

From her desk
A collage of pictures
A taped tapestry
Of first steps
And schools
And proms
Brings a tear and then a smart to her eyes

Sitting at her still computer screen
A cool leaded pencil lies at her right hand, undisturbed
She shuffles paper effortlessly
And files them into multi-colored categories
Layed out on her desk
Pink for budgets
Blue for memos
Red for action items

As the day mulls along little disturbs her
Humming rhythm of ritual
Few seem to notice her pensive eyes
Flustered hands
Pushed pace
Affixed efficiencies

They glower at her when a deal goes bad,
Or a glitch intrudes, directing
And demanding

They go out for drinks
And functions
To socialize and network

And lament about how hard it is to find good help

Me

Birds of Paradise by Dexter Griffin

I was looking for you
in gardens, and ghettos, and grandiose ideas
the concept of you
peals
and shades like palm leaves
or banana sleeves

I was looking for you
in red earth mud
on the banks of the Mississippi
did not find you waiting for you there
explored Egypt and Tanzania
Brazil and San Domingo
sailed my solemn soul on the coast of Morocco
and lost you
but
your face is in every wide lipped smile I see

oh well,
I guess?

Wondering who I need to be
to get your attention
knew you when we played
hopscotch
and finger popped
chased your endless darts
around the block

but somehow, the arrow missed your center
and I am left hanging with the sling

You know every song that my heart sings
and yet you know me not
the intimacy of ignorance
is closer than the handshake of friends

my mind bends
with the weight of your absence
billowing through
my thoughts....

Answer Your Call (Floetic #2)

Step Out on Faith by Wak

Queen Esther

Scriptural Basis: When Esther's words were reported to Mordecai, 13 he sent back this answer: "Do not think that because you are in the king's house you alone of all the Jews will escape. 14 For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?" – NIV Esther Chapter 4 Verses 12-14

Lyrics
Queen, God has called you to be great
But will you answer your call?
Queen, you’re the one that has been sent
Will you take your place,
or keep paying rent?

Poem:
Stunning beauty in red
A queen, unconsciousness of her greatness
An effortlessly
beauty
Outside and in are twin
Because you wear only God within
And though the men admire your
Sandy skin
The bronzed beaches of your arms carry the weight of your kin
Yes child
You wereborn to a generation
Whose fate it is to be hated on
Around you fall drifts of dreams
That melt in warm air
Men scoff, “Nothing good can come from there.”

Born for the fabulous, but worse for the wear

Trapped by cell blocks
Built from expectations
Dashed
Who knows? Maybe you have come to a royal
position for such a time as this?

Lyrics
Queen, God has called you to be great
But will you answer your call?
Queen, you’re the one that has been sent
Will you take your place,
or keep paying rent?

Poem:
Queen had been spotted by a baller
Wanting to pluck you out of an eye like a lash
Dazzle you with promises of jewels and cash
And place your smile on his mantle

He’s got ample ice to show his rank
But he’s a drinker, not a thinker
He mixes ideology with latent desire
And lights a match to the fire

Gotta woman he calls wife
Full with his seed
A beautiful woman dressed in the blue of her countenance
Another jewel in his crown

But says he needs you, queen
He says…
He loves your face
Born from hated flesh
Prepares you
for him with
12 months opulent myrrh and fragrant oils
and a passion unrivaled
The object of electoral fanfare; a requisitioned woman
the consumed object of his brazen desire

Yet, brown skinned queen
You must walk through this heart of hell
For God has promised salvation for your people
consumed by the evil without
Or the fear within…

Lyrics
Queen, God has called you to be great
But will you answer your call?
Queen, you’re the one that has been sent
Will you take your place,
or keep paying rent?

Did not want to be battling
this other thing,this saving gracefor an irresolvable puzzle
But
Uncle says, "If you don't do it, it will be done, You have been born to do it."
You have been born to do it.
Many daughters have done well but you excel
past them all
Your story is told
We are
what we behold

When They Didn't Show Up (For Hurricane Katrina)

She waited for you
dirty tennis shoes
talking volumes
proud little bow legs browned and baked
arms akimbo
rocking from side to side like a ship on the water
little fists planted at her hips

She waited for you
eyes
stuck on the stubbon door
that opened and closed
allows others in and out
but never for her
looking for her bus
because there had to be another coming

She waited for you
scarred legs black and ashy
hair all over her head
purple spotches all over her heart

knowing that this time was gonna be different

She waited for you
even when the sun wrote a goodbye letter
even when the people begin to stare
even when the tears she would not cry
rained on her leg
yellow and smarting

Music Theory (2006)

I woke up this morning with an unnamed hunger
on my mind….

It filled my cup with four part harmonies splashing
Down the long sides of a cold glass
Fruit punch drunk
On strawberry tangerine reggae rhythms
And barbershop honey concoctions
That steer their way down thirsty ears

But, still, I was not filled--

Unquenched I went searching
and found
something
sizzlin’ like salsa, flipped into a pan
Aroma of crispy seasoned bass notes
was popping with a golden fresh ::::aaahhhh:::
In melody a la fish grease
That makes you wanna get the last piece
Spicy sounds stick to the ears like plantains and rice
It christened every inch of the house
so loud the cats came callin’
And I taste the blend
of every ancestor I have ever been
All up in my plate

But still, I was not filled

I thought I’d try me a different epicure
sat on my red velvet couch let my mind
wade in the waters of ‘Nawlins
Black and comely
Suave saxophones
Big brutal trumbones
Are served in a Diasporic jazzy parfait
And from a distance I can almost taste the French resistance
Of time as one after one
I taste cool improvisational revolution on the tongue
Caribbean Rum, Cocoa brazed by Brazilian sun
And the none-so-mum
notes of Mississippi chocolat mousse
and proof


But still, I was not filled….

Had me some cold and funky greens
Fresh bluegrass, picked and cleaned
Gleaned with the smiles of all the women who walked away
And all the men folk that couldn’t stay
And all the children that ran away
Yeah, something likes that
I cut into the souls of black folk like a turnip
And pushed myself down into the juice
The pot was bubbling and profuse
With sangin’---not the kind that comes form the can
but the kind that boils up from deep down in the whole soul
And comes out hot and greasy in the bowl

But still, I was not filled….

So I tried some delicious vowels and lovely whipped consonants
Infused with beats
As stiff as egg whites
And then laid down over
hard-pressed bittersweet brown
crunchy and whole percussional soul
of the street
and microwaved to the beat
but slow cooked to the mouth
and consumed quickly
before the royalties are infringed
then sprinkled with
melted hiphop elliptical pens


But still, I was not filled

So I looked and looked
And tried a little of that southern comfort
Buttery and baked from scratch, it shouts, claps, stomps and cries
I tasted reams of buttermilk choral dreams blend
In with salty pain
Wailing Organs and tempting guitars drive the partaker to knees
And like all good works, it rises to crescendo
The lightness of melodies and the heaviness of rhythm
Anointed with holy oil and water

Overwhelmed,
I filled my plate with all that I saw
closed my mind,
open my ears,
and hearing all, got fed.

Things I Should be old Enough to Give Up, But Still Believe

I still believe
altruism trumps reciprocity
That peace isn’t war
That black is beauty
That you are me

I still believe
That the patriot questions
That street savants exist
That nieghbors look out for each other
That knowlegde is power

I still believe
That dreams are American
The past is a guide
freedom is free
and Jesus paid the price

I still believe
That hope is a river
love is the land
That faith has substance
And that death is a comma

Wade in the Water (An Adaptation of a Classic Spiritual)

My first recorded piece! I'm so excited. The track will be available in a few weeks.

Vocals by Janeare Ashley, Poem by Michelle Milam, Base by Tossant, Produced by Wayne Organ, ©2006

Scripture: And Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; and the LORD caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all that night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided. 22 And the children of Israel went into the midst of the sea upon the dry ground: and the waters were a wall unto them on their right hand, and on their left.” (Exodus 14:21-22)

Solo:
Wade In the Water, Wade in the Water, children, Wade, in the Water
Doncha know God’s gonna trouble the Water

(Baseline begins)

Poem:
I stand at the edge of the world
Where my feet meet the impossible
The Water is deep
Deeper than rushing rivers
Deeper than soul cry quivers
Mysterious eyes of deliverers long hence past

I am down to my last ask

Waiting on a God I
Can’t see but can feel
He leaves no footprints except still
blue planes
In the horizons
And the promise to make mighty continents mere islands
And expectations come down like torrential rains

But still,
Pharaoh is making great gains
The hooves of his chariots can be heard
miles and miles, and miles
from their match –

They push
and we step back

Lyrics:
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (Children, Children)
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (God’s Gonna Trouble The Water)
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (Children, Children)
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (God’s Gonna Trouble The Water)

Poem:
A hand stretches out to the indomitable ocean
A wall of waves that
We couldn’t go over , or under , or around if we tried
But the Lord goes before us in battle

A mighty people reduced to chattel

Yet, with a last breath
We lay our hearts in the inlet
Letting faith tarry out to sea
Knowing an enemy approaches quickly, and he’s got something for us, alight

Steady like heart of a drum
Here he comes

Clothed scarlet soldier,
The unflappable ill will holder
Mounted on indignant spite
Shoes, of undisputed strength and might
stand to the left and right of us

He delights in our fear, steely eyes
Erasing our faces like
commas behind a word that is pejorative
And Pharoah’s wondering why he let us live

So long

He whispers a goodbye song
Who are these children all dressed in red? Must be the children that Moses lead…

Lyrics:
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (Children, Children)
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (God’s Gonna Trouble The Water)
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (Children, Children)
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (God’s Gonna Trouble The Water)

Tell Your God to show up,
And render our property
They call out

Prayerfires circling,
Trouble unearthing

And then,
An east wind and
The sea
just
caved in
and
rose up;
and dissolved
into

waves of
a word
that
was
a wall—

My God, said many are called,
but I have chosen you
To walk, not run,
On and
through
the impossible

Can’t you hear it?
Ten Thousand sons
Speaking the same hope in different languages
With one tongue sounding like ten thousand drums

And the Spirit of God
Moved the souls
So that those who stand before
The impossible know

That He moves

My God teams with dreams
Listless and lean
And He makes the impossible
Clean
Like
Waves
But the question is
Will you wade?
Will you wade?
Will you wade?
Will you?
Lyrics:
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (Children, Children)
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (God’s Gonna Trouble The Water)
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (Children, Children)
Why Don’t You Wade in the Water? (God’s Gonna Trouble The Water)


I stepped in the water and the water was cold
It chilled my body, but not my soul
I stepped in the water and the water was cold
It chilled my body, but not my soul

In His Holy Temple -a very rough poem/song idea

The Debt (For Rosa Parks, 2006)

"And yet, when the history of this country is written,
when a final accounting is done, it is this small, quiet woman,
whose name will be remembered long after the names of senators
and presidents have been forgotten." -- State Senator Barack Obama



Something shined within her
broke loose
and touched them
they did not know it
but they were standing
in the presence of
God

a just God
that saw her hand clutching proof
of an unearned fare

We can no longer touch her
the bronzed hands
that smell like pennies
she does not return gestures
from well wishers and wonderers
her softly sculpted eyes
are steely and resigned

but the cost of her
unfolding humility
is greater than the sum of statues
Her faithful face
breaks loose peace
the wave of her simple slicked hair
pulled back
leaves a scent in the air
a fresh rain
in thunders long staked

rain that feathers from the sky to the earth
like
crumpled bills from
the hand of God

The Revolution Will Be Audio (My First Audioblog)

Blackgirlcurves (2006)

The African American Dance Company



The bridges of her hips
Built to span
and bring forth men like moses
from the water

The music of her lips
soft and deep
like mud
seeds green dreams

She stands commanding attention
the rhythm of dimension
firm and resolved
this body yells, not calls

She
nurses nations
in lean years
with secret joy

Pools of eyes
cry your tears
and rain down in torrents

Carved mountains display her face
Formed in love, made by God, saved by grace

Legs
Strong and powerful
Kick adversaries to the curb

She be
one who carries her own things

Not to shake
shimmy
or serve
at your pleasure

she bends history

Her body
is still life in a stance
it says to the world:

You have a problem
And that’s fine;
just don’t make your
problem mine

The other side of the lens (For Gordon Parks)

A man intertwined with time
and ellipsoidal on the lips
of hips of lenses
that steal the rushing winds
and children's
faces
big memory
in small places
he saves this
as the artifact of lost hope for
posterity
a man who saw beauty in vulgarity
of the mundane
ordinary
sadness of life
principle within
blight
wholeness
within light
fragmented
into the color of truth
in which
we develop
character
in our nation's
dark room
as even a rose in full bloom
and yes, the bell tolls for thee,
not whom

in his eyes
immortal souls on
ice
shine through
in that
slice
of what was and what is

omnipotent
dreams
dancing in a thousand snow globes
of
time
against a blue sky
tasting one fallen word
on the tongue

do not weep my people
for I have merely crossed the line
see me now in your own lens
take the past and use it
for this is the purpose of history

Advice (For Jill Scott Experience, 2000)

Jill
The beauty of still
Preservation
Of a clean thought
A buoyant hope
A measured mind
The flour of spring
That rises
In a warm heart
And serves many

Jill, the beauty of still
Diamond in the hand
Commanding that man
To look at her
And stand

Her man
See he can’t be faded
Waded through shallow beauties
And found him some gold
That he holds
Like it is
His destiny


Quick trip on that song
In her head
That got you up
Set on complex
Gifts
in simple
Packages

Wrap your mind around
That twinkling
Shared
Vision of
Fresh drifts of
White
Ice
Poised
In a song

And don’t be alarmed
Because no two are alike

Like mama
She says
Baby, never say never,
But say no often

Until often becomes
Maybe then
And maybe then

Chases you until the crescendo ---

Let him love you
Like you’re the light in a window

And never forget
That you’re his star

Still.

Be (2006)

darkened kin of the desert sky
draped in ancient hope
unritual in moments
liquid gold heart
powering our flight


elliptical twin of dream
uncaged
poetical presence
of grand language and opulent words
Don’t run, soar.
Don't think, be.

Acts of Living (For Bathers) 2006

Today,
I wear gardenias in my hair
And listen to the strumming lull
Of autistic fingers
Breaking free

peace is a song
an unsullied adulterating
moment
in this house of pain

In ritual
I speak languages I forgot I remembered
Bath in unspoken desires
Walk on watermarked reds
Floating in a blue bay

I am dancing the
cool white
wades of wishes
Flow into a willing
Soul

Here there are no judgements
No reality
Only me
i am all the things i think
i cannot

I hold my lover’s hand with a cooling
touch
symbiotic smells
of swirling salts
cleanse the mind
and dampen damnation
at least for a day

I am more here
than I am there
when away

Luxuriating in the
act of living

I used to write my name in color (2006)

i used to write my name
in
unyielding rainbows
and bubble letters
and italics
and with accents
until the crispness of the page
rebuked my itinerant soul
and so I acclimated
to blacks and blues

i color my my dreams in a lisping
rain
glassy pools of purple
red and blue
hues sashay through
rivers of wind
and end
at
shining skin
on a blackened concrete stage

i am an empire
in utter ruin
that won't strike back
running
gunning
finding myself in lost spaces
loosing my self
in familiar names
one in all,
all in the same

tired of changing a locked game

freeze frame
i'm in motion
high tide inside a still ocean
trying to remember from which way I came
i reclaim my
lost
but loving mind
beside the road
where children eat pickles
and pick poppies
and wonder
when why we
run so fast

How did i forget
the source of my strength?
Was it when i laid by the side of the road
to take a drink in an oasis
Or was it when I closed myself off to the possibility
of infinite
ability

or was it when I
pulled a new
practical, smoothly leaded
pencil
pointed it into space
and wrote my name
in gray
instead
of color?

Struggling with Queen Esther (2006)

12 When Esther's words were reported to Mordecai, 13 he sent back this answer: "Do not think that because you are in the king's house you alone of all the Jews will escape. 14 For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?" – NIV Esther Chapter 4 Verses 12-14


The thing about Esther
is that when the Lord called, she went.

I wanted to write poems
that would fill the sky
and touch the shadow
of the moon
in the sea

I wanted to write
words
so that odd eyes
could see

Did
not
want to be battling
this other
thing,
this saving grace
for an irresolvable
puzzle

For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish.

The thing about Esther
is that when the Lord called, she went.

If you don't do it, it will be done,
but you have been born to do it.

It was a test
a problem
that we
all
must know
someday

Did not want to be battling
this which rips the world with
unrelenting lashes
until
there is no skin

did not want to be
one of the men
dressing up
in God's shoes and coat
and pretending
to patch and mend
what we do not know

in this world
even doctors know their limits;
but we shove the sky
ad yell at the wind
and then have the gall to think
we can prevail

but
The thing about Esther
is that when the Lord called, she went.

For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish.


mocked by her beauty
suffered for the
fate of men
but not a woman martyr

As a child we want to save the world,
never knowing that to do it, we'll give our lives.
And even then, the sacrifice is sullen
and small

after all,
and I

Wanted to write men’s hearts
They way my cursed eyes see them
But the vision
Was blocked by
Magenta possibilities
Encased by
gray
words

No. I have called you here.

And
The thing about Esther
is that when the Lord called, she went.

To be the savior of her people,
To be the servant of her God
To be the woman she never wanted to be
But must become.

A Woman's Suffrage (For Janie)

"Janie saw her life like a great tree in leaf with the things suffered, things enjoyed, things" -- Their Eyes Were Watching God, by Zora Neale Hurston


Why woman, do you not weep?, he asks....

Women are born when
dreams die, or so it's been said
mothers formed from dust
we strike our foot to the hoe
where girlhood fell
like a loose pearl
or Jack's bean

Girls plant slender feet into hard times
trying desperately to make something grow
But it is women who
till the line
until fall

Girls want the
the right
to have their say counted
Women long for
the right to
count

Eve, the mother
of all others
Covets tall dreams surrendered
to omnivorous armies
that eat everything

Yet God gave her
the seed
to crush
the snake,
and peal the skin
to protect the labor
of men

but then,


it is always a bad crop
a hard season
a course word
the wrong dress
yet,
she smiles

Girls mourn in black
but women
wear white

knowing
few
can out

and fewer
can tell

Why woman, do you not weep?

So many other things have happened to me since then
so many other things.....

I have surrendered all things
I have surrendered all things
except me

The Grace of a Black Man

How I marvel at you
The divine folding into the divine
Quick, before I miss you!
Wash and wear hair
Pop and go joy
But slow cooked tenderness
Is what you give our children
The silent shadow
And act
And shadow and act
Of Ellison
The serenades of academia’s silent shades of you
scarlet prarades of you
I bid adieu?
Can’t seem to measure it ‘cause you’re too big
For words
Each step ordained and ordered
Each breath struggling for life
The roads you walked so that I wouldn’t have to
And the remix is sticking to our fresh white K-swiss
Sticking to our minds like cooked okra
Sticking to our songs like a good long note
Hoping to find a place in the sun

Lady Blues (2006)

"Swingtime, by Steve Underwood"

She stands on the edge...
You hear me? The very edge.

Face flawless even with faults
Body bodacious despite the wear
Her presence greater in her absence
and it gives grown men pause

Her face fierce and cast in blue green
aquamarines
it catches gold flecks from of light from the hem of her dress
yes
the screams are well earned

Still
regal
never a diva--
but a diamond

She's had too much
to drink, to eat, to spend, to worry about,
and too many men
that have not been worthy,
but accepted
and yet
no man can touch her

No matter how little slumber
she's had
what she has in her purse
or how many tears she cries

Her mouth is mother earth
She sings words we can't speak
the rise of her voice riptide that tears
the little slip of our souls
The voice
reaches from river bed to right of way
sockin' it to us
uprooting our sorry selves
working us like the one trick ponies we are
Cauze she's
sobbing and sangin' - this superstar

In blue notes she connotes
rivers of red hot honesty
that flow into our dry plains
brutally pushing us to move
out the way of us
the fury of her pain
scortches
the moment
making us honest
for a change

Our hearts
emerge
tattered and worn;
and then-- up
from
tilled and blackened
places
a lovely shade
of blue green
bewildered
befuddled
and
besmirched

Christ, Unmasked

They probe
the open
landscape
of you
looking for evidence of you

the wide bridge of an unmalleable nose
of the Euphrates
leading to two reflective pools
that shine with the face of the sun

they dig into the
raze of mahogany skin
deep and earthen like branches
to find tattered relics that do not point to your existence

they search in
high mountain bluffs
peaked cheeks
leading into
the valley that contains
the breathy cool of the day

where you were laid to rest
where you rose to glory
where you walked through rivers
and fished for souls

and still,
like water,
they do not know
your ever moving face

run away home (2006) For Octavia Butler

Another kindred spirit
has returned to the fold
running on the wind of flight
wrapped in gusts of light
on wings of second sight
the pen
bold in battle
stands
and slays
the ego of man

what is left
is rounded and rooted
sweet like almond trees
and humming
the small sweet nothings
of somethings
in the ear

we drop the pen
for you
and color
the page
celestial
sink our feet
deep beneath your
lost thoughts
that crumble
between out toes

I will yearn for your

earthly, heavenly,
humanly
beautiful

explosion
of eloquence

your imagination
still
sows
fresh thoughts
in used minds

The Last Letter (2006)

This is the last poem I will write you
because my words have run out....


I keep thinking about it
Your words
Half hearted
Lazy
Dreading
Falling
Slothfully into my open ears
Dripping down my neck
Trickling down my arm
Running down my leg
Dancing down my ankle
And landing at my feet

I’m
Dating
someone
else


I’m not as strong as you, you say.

My strength, my weakness
My twin, my foil
Perfect, but not loved
Pure, and unwanted

I think about all those poems I wrote you
writing
you me
in bold letters


Rejected for my resiliency, punished for wanting
My strength, a reminder of a slave’s past
A beautiful angel in cased glass.

And yet you say
You pray for me

Everyday
Everyday, you say.

Prayers that echo off walls
That I can no longer hear
Because they are bleeding

Prayers that cannot reach
A heart in motion
Long left its body behind

Prayers that cannot warm
A frozen mouth
Chilled by the breath
Of your indifference


Prayers that cannot
Remove the stain from my skin
Where the wound has cast
Its dye

One of these mornings
I’m gonna wake up
And the hole
Will be healed

But today,
I just stand still
And take it all in

Like slow jazz
Every I love you
Disconnected
Every moment
Improvisationally planned
Moving
Me

Away….

It hurts most that I never really knew you.

You see, I always was the real me,
The only me I knew how to be.

I think that somewhere
In between here and there
There was a little love

But it is less than I’m worth

And even angels must pay alms for their wings.

And falling words water new flowers

And loving makes us strong and not weak

And your words are not the only storm that this body has weathered, only a storm.

But still,
sometimes,
I think about it.

Down to the last letter,

I

t
h
i
n
k.