Delusion

You, a sun with no planets.
The lion baring teeth about to strike
falsely limping, another’s blood
dripping from your jaws.

Unity by Pablo Neruda

Unity
by Pablo Neruda
Translated by Clayton Eshleman

There is something dense, united, settled in the depths,
repeating its number, its identical sign.
How it is noted that stones have touched time,
in their refined matter there is an odor of age,
of water brought by the sea, from salt and sleep.

I'm encircled by a single thing, a single movement:
a mineral weight, a honeyed light
cling to the sound of the word "noche":
the tint of wheat, of ivory, of tears,
things of leather, of wood, of wool,
archaic, faded, uniform,
collect around me like walls.

I work quietly, wheeling over myself,
a crow over death, a crow in mourning.
I mediate, isolated in the spread of seasons,
centric, encircled by a silent geometry:
a partial temperature drifts down from the sky,
a distant empire of confused unities
reunites encircling me.

Inbetween Skin

zen mysterious kisses
light tapping lips on the buttocks
revealed a sensation
like a rocking chair in grandmother’s den
into the room sneaks tender moonlight
a baby falls asleep
food is left in the crisper
up the walls shadows creep,
dance on the bedroom floor
playing games like gypsy faeries
who cover their anticipatory mouths
stand on tiptoes,
watch with rose eyes
the nightly dance
of entangled legs
and white satin fingertips
crossing translucent lines
and curving bodies gyrate
like delicate knives under the moonlight

Mutual Love

sex is the fireplace in my living room
a giving of self you can hear
the echo of the sea in a shell
bonds as tender and strong
as stretched iridescent tendons
plucked free.

RIP Javad

This poem is dedicated to the dedicated, eternal brother of the Black Nationalist movement who died this week from pnemonia after having been in a coma and having H1N1.

a brother died in the struggle
not from AIDS, violence or abuse
he carried the weight
of his communities’ ailments
in his earthly body
offered self affirmation
to young people
JAVAD
You will be Remembered.

Look out for us
from afar
the spirit realm’s now
where you reside

* * *

a good brother died
because he carried other’s pain and hurt
and longing and separation
because he ate too many cheeseburgers
take care of yourselves so we don’t lose good brothers and sisters
to more disease

From My Apartment, Sunset Park

slight hues of the highway color my existence
the beams shake like tree trunks
lashing side to side from violent trucks
the branches reach cloudy skies

Tender Omission

intimate breath between our lips

sweet tender kiss(es)

before the parting

there’s captivated eyes

freckles on your cheek

goodbye

hello plump dick

sustenance

a lie

you know the truth

I love you

Palestine

Tear gas bombs exploding over kitchen

table. Pulsing vein in my head.

Sitting with a friend in West Oakland.

We talk about her trip

to Palestine, she stops talking, her eyes

glaze over, shows me the pictures of death.

It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day. It’s a new life. 

Innumerable holes in buildings

children play in the front –

her talking is scattered –

I see the tear gas canisters

exploding above her head

hear their firecracker whisper

smell the burning bodies

the black lost vision.

It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day. It’s a new life.

I see the laughter of the Israeli soldiers

hear the screams of the moms and babies

separated. I see a Palestinian woman

head held low walking courageously alone

to buy groceries for dinner.

I see breaking bread.

It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day. It’s a new life.

Antes

your juice fell on the counter

before you were opened

before

            I opened you

the juice drained on the floor

you were still whole

Detox

the pain

hot and cold

fire and warm

im here alone-by my choice

you told me nothing

I told you leave

you come to me

I push away

twirling spirals

spinning tops

black and white

a firebed

I know this place

its too familiar

water down

orange and red

anchor my foot

needle through thread

hammer through bone

knife on the table

knife in the home

Empty

I punch through walls and throw up in your car

I date your lover and you’re glad I did

my life enhances yours

you wish I was always there

you wish I was always there

occupying empty space

space which eats at you until your intestines are gone

a tapeworm that never leaves

I am the power that the tapeworms envy

wish they could eat your intestines the way I fill you up

wish they could leave you feeling destroyed and empty

the way I leave you feeling strong

the way I leave you feeling your babies are safe

your life is safe

the world is yours

nobody can take it I have given it to you and my hands are clean and dirty

just like yours

I wash my hands in Nubian rich soap

in lovers’ water

in rose water

in puddles left over nights

in cigarette smoke

I wash my hands in your babies’ bathwater

thank you

thank you god for letting me in

thank you for housing me

thank you for the gift of words

I say thank you because I am blessed

I follow your path and the tapeworms disintegrate into dust

into nothing but dust

which when I touch it

turns to gold.

The Murder of Oscar Grant, RIP: Another Police Brutality Incident

“A peaceful protest turned into a violent one.”

So what?

It’s not the violence that’s not the answer, it’s the disorganization.

“A peaceful protest turned into a violent one.”

Cops with guns, cops backed by tanks, helicopters and bright lights shining above, we may be the people of the sun but those ghetto birds were shining bright florescent lights onto us that night.

How many times will an attack on the people be written off?

The execution shows, as many times as necessary.

Martin Luther King Jr. Day is next Monday but Malcolm said, “By Any Means Necessary.”

The murder of Oscar Grant is an example to get the people to STAY IN LINE!: Kill one as an example, scare them into fear.

“A peaceful protest turned into a violent one.”

Violence begats violence.

I would kill for my dead son, any dead man of my people is the same as my dead son, brother, husband or father.

Rise up and organize into formation loved ones! Youth! Rise up with purpose!

With cause.

Already, disorganized emotions have turned into chaotic actions.

The media has planned with the government to suppress any uprise…we must use stealth, covert actions at first, focused planning, trained soldiers.

They come out with guns, tanks, tear gas…then we must come out with fighting mastery, guns, bombs, uniforms, be ready soldiers.

We are fighting inside war.

Stop getting killed!

Organize!

Focus the energy!

Smashing Black owned shops ain’t bringing Oscar Grant back!

Smash the system! Like trained soldiers during the art of war,

Smash it like you’re looking down the handle of your sword, and the battle is won when the tip meets the eyes of the enemy. Slash!

Rain Haiku

And so, I relax

An upside-down umbrella

in the dripping rain.

Lost

In a maze of stumble and confusion with a clear pointed goal,

a compass, gold, pointing me towards the future.

get over the past it says,

a hand was reaching towards me guiding me out of

barren transformations,

stumbling and bumbling towards a future

You – a light drifting upon black waters

You - a sign like a cherry blossom floating on dark waters

and so the door opens and I walk, walk.

Hope?

What hope?

Hope for a world consisting of inconsistencies

of hoods on top of garbage dumps

in India, Bangladesh, Cambodia - - - -

on top of piles of nasty garbage

smelly garbage

puky garbage

Where co-ops rise above

stories high

the concrete below sinking a quarter of an inch

every year because

it’s on top of a swamp

Where Co-op city in Bronx, NY kids run deep

killing each other

On top of garbage dumps

children play

babies laugh in playgrounds

playing ball the little ones miss the basket

because their little hands are so small

and the basket towers above them

looming…

They miss the basket

The elders teaching the babies…

“Its okay, try again, “ he says.

Keep trying We say. Don’t give up

because the fighter

who gives up before the game is over

dies.

I don’t know what a hopeful world looks like.

Only hopeful moments.

Moments where my little babies laugh and

their laughter turns into disorganization –

heads shaking, eyes rolling back,

yelling, “Don’t touch me.”

“I won’t touch you,” I say, “I’ll only stay here by your side.”

Stay by my side I say and so you do.

But not until you’ve beaten me. Beaten me and I’ve kicked you.

You’ve held me down and so I’ve bitten you.

You grab me and so I push you.

But you win.

You win because you push me down, down into the couch.

I can’t leave.

You won’t let me.

But I won’t let you win next time.

Next time I’ll fight back more and more until there’s nothing left.

There’s only dust.

Dust and garbage.

And high rises.

High rises filled with dope and love.

Heroin and eyes. Watching, waiting.

Sky Drippings

Dropped from the sky, a lover with forbidden tendencies

As injustice reigns like red acid sun drops

ripping a fiery burn through an open dark grey umbrella,

as a face underneath peaks out…

the rain clouds give way to old memories of a girl’s childhood

Brooklyn Day

dentists with free toothbrushes

and mom.

Smiles grow into fears grow into pain into sores into death

into traveling into moving away into eyes averting when tears bleed

but - when its time to move back into life and walk, walk , walk

like a newborn baby learning, stumbling, crying, starting,

a young girl turns into a woman

her white feathered wings extend, flap, flutter, open, gather wind

swirl like a tornado, and dust soars.

Transition

When, time and space don’t exist,

yet stand upon the ethereal platform of creation

I was a girl. Helping those in need.

Now, creativity flows in flux

dripping in drops like blood onto styrofoam,

spreading as soon as

plop!

it hits

expanding like an ant colony gossiping and gathering food

I think of you,

my grizzly bear who gathers honey

from my honeycomb

all I can be is candid with you

Sweet love you are a source of stability

like a telephone pole in a storm

thunder and lightening twirling around your stable base

rocking gently with the wind and I am a bird upon your lines

Short Poem

clarity comes to me in teardrops forming dewdrop sadness as if a crystal drop falls on a green leaf and hangs there still: I must let you go little by little

Poetic Justice

For the key to my heart…you must wait.

I am forming a consciousness different.

Now these streets walk words and all that glitters

is the idea of your brown glistening skin in the moonlight…

I glisten at the thought of your tongue dripping diamond drops

of sweet words onto my lips and crevices.

Mmm, taste that sweet new honey, it drips so good.

But - already I am missing you and your sunny delight.

Stay with me my sweet starry abyss.

Fly with me through the nighttime skies.

Liquid Silver Stars

Unnameable One will you sprinkle stardust upon the ground in front of my feet So that I may walk on a path made of your shining sparkles which glitter with every step lifted. In a world where the ground is made of grey dull cement I need to follow your Liquid Silver Stars… I need to know your Liquid Star will guide me reflecting my own light.

Desire for Open Deep Penetration (Longing)

The void is a long tear in my skin my left wrist’s blue veins wriggling for cover bleeding for shade deep penetrating red slits close in on the canvas like a forearm trying to shield eyes from the sun. SMA 7.16.09