Crossing Over -- a true story (2006)

Last night I had a dream.
I was standing on the right side of a railroad track
Back up against a cement wall
On my left, was a field, filled with smiling adult faces
Green grass picnics and BBQ’s
On my side of the tracks, there were only children
Some tiny and small, brown and scared
Others lively, excited, agitated and unaware or unafraid of the
Impending train that threatened their lives
Maternal instinct caused me to grab as many of the children close to my heart
Some of them looked shell shocked
Like kittens in high water
But there were too many of them, and some of them would not listen
I ordered them with slicing sternness to sit still, against the wall, away from the tracks
Don’t move, I ordered. Don’t move when the train comes.
I knew if they crossed now they would never make it
Most of them obeyed
But there was one defiant boy
Lips pursed, hands folded in obstinate will
Who refused to listen
and stood right in the middle of the tracks
His face-- liquid gold
His eyes--thunder
He stood there refusing to hear my demands
And later my pleas
I knew that if I went after him, he’d run.

And then a question of biblical proportion
Should I leave twenty five vulnerable bodies
And risk them taking flight
To save the lone hold out?


It was a question my dream never answered.
I woke up when the train was two feet from the
Boy
I woke up and didn’t even remember the dream
It was like morning was an extension of where the previous day ended
I got up, showered, brushed my teeth
And put on my clothes, and got into my car
It was only after I crossed the train tracks on my way to work
Did I remember

the walk (2006)

I think of Jesus
walking into life as he did to death
rejected by the love he
gave his life for

I think of Jesus
bronzed and beautiful
in the mind of God
No good, no count, no hope
in the mind of man

I think of Jesus
hands touching the wounded
taking on their infirmity
healing those whom hated him
to show his love

I think of Jesus
The tree, the silent witness to the
truth
Great men standing in small spaces
as he died for a truth
they claimed not to understand

I think of Jesus
of whom scripture says
was wounded for our transgressions,
crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the punishment that made us whole,
and by his bruises we are healed

Jesus
who carried the world
in his hands
even when
it grew too heavy
to hold

Jesus
walking the line between
human fear and faith
as if it were a thin line
separating the ocean from the sky

the weight (2006)

Woke up this morning with the world
standing on my heart

pushing
tearing
crushing
and burning

Could barely open my front door
which in the past had been so yeilding
now a stone
to be rolled away

Woke up this morning with the world
standing on my heart

This weight is one that hangs in the air
mass heavy
camera ready

it talks lives and breathes with a lumbering elegance
and it is waiting

Woke up this morning with the world
standing on my heart

a strange strangling noise in the night
a fluttering heartbeat against a painted moon
the sensation of loss of life from lungs
leaves me lisping
and gasping for
hope

Woke up this morning with the world
standing on my heart

Many faces and one form
black bleeding
no band aid will fix
that old strange fruit
returns

Woke up this morning with the world
standing on my heart

Every inch of me aching
I run from it
under canopies of memory like it is the monster
in a movie
where I know the ending
Praying that I wake up

The Nightlife (for hiphop) spoken word, 1997

I guess I’m not cut out for the night life,
You know?
That bright light/ big city spotlight
The lonely shifty corners where folk
Groove and groove and groove and groove

Where brothas trip on enchanted fantasies
Fishing for that line
That in time
Will take them away from
Their small corner of the world
To London or France
Emcees dropping that last whispering wicked wish
“All we wanna do is make you dance?”
Hold up
Hiphop apocalypse?
Se here brothas go undercover
Did I stutter?
Quick to smoke a joint then make one
Went from banging wax to plastic
While they throw a left then fake one
To the right
Like Tyson!
When he delivers a groove

And girlfriend
You better work!
This ain’t lil Ms. Sally Walker
Cause even after many a nights of broken hearted vodka
She’s learned how to be
A smooth talker
The formula, so predictable:
See sista sweat, see sista shake
See sista sippin’ on crystal and moet
In the back of the club
Looking for…
Well--- not love
That’s where you’ll find everybody else playing dress up
Eastside is down, Westiiide up!
Cowboyz and Indians
Barbie dolls playing that cupie role
Looking like they not interested
See in this Dukes of Hazzard
Stagger Lee mentality
Reality just might like you flat broke

But y’all remember the days when we used to love her
When she was a princess risen
Just remember all you princesses your castles may be
Cold and lonely prisons

The night partitioning our faces
From these pseudo realities
Of these twirling, whirling picturesque
Video fantasies

Folk talkin’ about they keeping it real
When they shed skin like snakes!
“Hello welcome to your castle upper eschalant where we hook your fantasy up
Even if your reality is ghettofabulously fake!”

Partaking in fate
Passing around the collection plate of lust
Not fuss only thrills in the temple of masquerades
We step out surreptitiously
Glass slippers made of tar
Make mundane musical monotony into mutiny
Lyin’ about who we are
And what kind of car we drive
Tongues as slick as southern style canning jars

Still the strobe light is very pretty
Isn’t it? Distorting the common view
Like a defiant chocolate leg crossed over the so called sinner’s pew
And in our ears we hear lullabies in tandem spasms
Eat your apples with enthusiasms
Dream a little dream on me
On the folk that we still be
The shoe shiners
Moon shiners
Go getters
Come hithers
Strange fruit by yonder tree

Don’t playerhate says the emcee, get your groove on at the masquerade
Cauze it hurt to see your people when they all cain’t ball
And they out there looking played

See you better dream that dream or wake up dead
With an (Ouch!) red white and blue Timberland clocked me in my head
Enjoy the lull because the storm is near
And they don’t have to steel you in your sleep anymore

See here in the land of liberty not’s
We drink and laugh
We dance and talk
And we dance and dance and dance and dance
Until the white day burns a hole in the sky
And after that, we weep and cry

Waiting on dream variations on a sunset to save us 'for we die?

I guess I’m not cut out for the nightlife.

Seven (1998)

(Spoken Word, for Ntozake & Colored Girls who come with their own things.)

Seven large seashells
draped round her neck
the first and fourth for love
the second for sex
the rest, regret
...............except for December

You see she opened her door wide
and smiled at him some
on the seventh day of the seventh hour of the moon eclipsed sun
light slipping through the doorway
down on weathered ground
she looks up
epiphany
sound

his head crowned with rotund clouds
and slip china lips
twiddling his fingers
that had magic
in their midst
staring at her hips
and lips
and hips
See, things like this only happen in cinematic formulas
and love don't really get u high like angel dust
and she never thought she would want someone
so much
as to trust
his voice
sweet and strumming
a someday soon tune
a see you in June tune
a waxed moon tune

Come here he said
and like a dog she did.

Breathing the air he echoed
excited
invited
giddy and young
the way we all are
green
like leaves
before the autumn comes
and we begin to shed childhood
like a tree sheds fall leaves
and she believes only
cauze young seeds
need roots

and he's
looking like
God
cut him out the sky
in his tall black boots
bright wistful wanting eyes
of all the love he's never had before
she
-we was born under a cursed star
a vexed constellation
so that every time she sought love
it wasn't in her fate and
voodoo and karma ‘musta been what kept her
waiting and hopin'-- right?

Seven years old
and daddy slipped away
like a darning needle
and she learned
the truth is
everyday people who make no concerted effort to treat you evil
still will
walk right on over you
to fulfill their own self centered motivations
and she didn't wanna be a princess without no throne
scrubbing scuffed marked lacquered floors until they shone
like mirrors
of her own reflection
.........like mama?

But is started first with a ride
y'all remember the day when love was new and fast and high
and the sexiest thing a man could say
is "I'm driving it."?
Riding down the freeway
of love
on the wings of doves
dreaming of rivers
and love
The earth their kingdom
and they be
deity
then he slipped his hand
on her knee
and she feels
the lightning of electricity
the sweetness of a first kiss
the palpability of lips
the nexus of hips
and just-that-quick
he's made marble lipped poetry to her.

Then it was over.
He put his coat on. He walked outside.
And he left.
And he didn't leave talkin' 'bout no rivers and love
No he asked her," What you doing here, girl?" It's time for you to go home now!"

Now babygirl is big
round, like the moon
With child, deliverance comes soon
On Sundays she scrubs floors with mama
for too little pay
and her birth pains be quick
life tearing and flesh
because on the seventh day of the seventh hour of the seventh month
girlchild is laid to rest

Yes, hefty bags do not make proper caskets

I guess the wanting
was too much?

Seven large seashells
draped 'round her neck
the first and fourth for love
the second for sex
the rest....regret
except for December
Sometimes, she touches them
and she
remembers....

The Match (2006)

mm's disclaimer<----no linguist, just lover of words

for chad and angie

she takes the shot
that no one will
delivers
gives as she gets

ethereal
at her best
when
life
is worst
she eats the olives whole
drinks life to the rocks
and emerges smiling

un mami que lucha hermoso, he says...

He winces from
pulitzer prize punches that
spike
and move
forcing time to travel

she is thunder, rain, and lightning
lilting

the wail of ten thousand
drums pounding in a symphony of wills

she is zora, loving herself when laughing

esté suave conmigo, mi mujer de guerrero
ame conmigo, mi reina
mi mujer

the swift impact of her look
stills the earth
subdues the skies
and the hearts of men
he sees himself in her eyes

usted es bailarín beautuful, mami
he says

mujer de azul
mujer de la verdad
mi mujer
él susurra caliente y breathy en su oído
mi....

Le notoire-- La Baker (2006)

Miss Josephine
the real dancing queen

Exuberant as a six year old
la femme
in brown skin
soft as petals

Miss Josephine
the real dancing queen
remembering mama's caveats
"a colored woman's life
is from can't do to can't don't..."

Miss Josephine
sipping on silver champagne
smelling of golden glow
new money
and the absence of memory

Elle a eu deux amours, Paris et l'Amérique

Miss Josephine
legs long as southern miles
who hungers for home
while wearing banana leaves
brown breasts
and silken weaves

Big boats come for
la bakers, butchers,and odd dream makers
sailing oceans as if they were grand lakes
They go to find what was left behind

Remember her cheeks and
lips in odd apple reds
and longings for children
blooming in every shade

La Baker la vraie reine dansante
- Miss Josephine, the real dancing queen
La beauté de l'Amérique cachée dans des vêtements français
- America's beauty hidden in French clothes
Your pearls are your shackles, your dresses are bindings
------Vos perles sont vos dispositifs d'accrochage, vos robes sont des attaches
Yet what man can resist your dreams?
----Pourtant quel homme peut résister à vos rêves ?

You wanted to be a lady,
and they wouldn't let you be
so you became something else

Miss Josephine, the real dancing queen
life takes you over
but not until you have danced
on its head
in banana browns
and apple reds

Breaking Down Beloved (2006)

(For Sethe)

Step out of the shower
with the intention of starting over
but the memory of the past
clings

it is everywhere

that lost lamb
following mary
yet it saved our lives
exodusing egypt

it sits with us
in the cool of the eve
rustling and rising
new grass
pardons lost dreams
lulling us
with
blue grass
and cotton
flowers

if you pull me closely
and breathe
you'll know
spastic dancing
of souls on skin
recalling a time when
men were money
women were mules
and God was watching

and waiting
for victory

refusing to be broken

battles the mighty must face (2006)

One of my favorite paintings...



Be unafraid
of the quiet doubt
that calls your name

be bold
in the face
of the smallest hurt

rise
to meet your self
every morning
with caution, then victory

reach beyond your reflection
to touch the other
in you --


be larger than life
knowing you are smaller than death


seek greatness
in small things
humility in God's glory


give to love
like it is more than your landlord

put away your weapons;

You stand on holy ground.

Love Beyond Longing (2006)

For a superstar of long ago...

A smile that only a woman-child can give
it floats through hallways
long demolished
and in music
past peak airtime

Oh that smile--
it is inside sunshine

A lovely hope
casting a wide net in an august sunset
it sparkles like
lights on rollercoasters during summer evenings
glowing like red dressed moons

Time that once was
a subtle breezy guitar in the mind
of a woman-child who knew only how to respond
to her heart
is now
faith rising beyond fear
hope beyond reality
and love beyond longing

Love somehow remains
a lone tree in a sea of stumps and meadow greens
a pregnant pause
cool and clean

It is in this space that
I am tasting the
memory of long ago
lush and wet
like the mouth of rivers
touching a time
that was once
new and pearly
like ivory silk
but now has been packed with petals of roses
that never bloomed

I am remembering the glow of
hard driving blazes in a stormy skies
the starkness of
"why"
like thunder to the listener
Moving the mind to loss,
like tires to a slick road.

Oh how it calls out to the lover on late nights
when the radio is a sweet friend
enunciating
beautifully battered
curved and cursive letters
that punctuate
cliches, wet lips, and tears
but

This feeling remains warm, beyond the cool distance of years.

The "knowing" long outlasted the love
that faded into swirling orchid waters
without time, tides
or recall
and maybe this is the joy

Now silent prayers grow from selfish tugs at leg of the soul,
to pushes
I, us, we, push
until there is only air
and wings

this love has bloomed and overcomes all things

it is a knowing smile,
that remembers
and lets go

a dream matured
beautifully into what it was intended to be

a superstar in the superb splendor of flight
........ and yes, it's alright
it's alright,
it's alright
yes, it's alright.