Poetry

TO EDWARD KAMAU BRATHWAITE'S JAH MUSIC


The rumble of drums
The riddle of the fiddle
The clean whistle
Of bamboo pipe
Mento music like news
Bessie Smith singing the blues

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FORGOTTEN STELAE


A kind of self blessing spawns in the glare, 
torn from reflections across a drain where 
raindrops gather to feed water hyacinths. 

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IX—OR ON THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE


I got stuck on the Brooklyn Bridge
and my driver just sat like stone
to the honks and heckles of the horn-head motorist
strapped into his humid summer ride

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UNFETTERED


don’t enclose me
within the palisades of time.
don’t imprison me
within the barricades of your mind.
the constriction
of your limiting web

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IF I WOZ A TAP-NATCH POET


“dub poetry has been described as...‘over-compensation for deprivation’”
Oxford Companion to Twentieth Century Poetry

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WATCH DE OL’ MAN


Wunna tink ol’ man ain’t special like he don’t got stars in he back pocket, too

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IT IS NOT HERE


they say

 

it is not here

at this chance meeting

exhausted

in leaky craft.

 

they say it

 

is not here

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THE LECTURER LADY


She says, assuming all of us Miami-ites as well as
               Anglicans, that those of us

who were in church on Sunday August 23rd and not at

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WOMAN WITH GOLDEN APPLE (NO ORDINARY FRUIT) AFTER LOTTE KRAMER’S “BOY WITH ORANGE (OUT OF KOSOVO)”


A woman holding a golden apple in her palms 
has crossed the boundary, uncertain yet hopeful.

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CON-FICTIONS AND CON-VERSE-ZIONS


Like the cruelty of clothes
belted
strapped
buttoned down
zipped up
these flat 
pressed women
ironed hard
metal smoothed

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