you have the nerve to say the past is past<BR>and subscribe instead to the rugged individualism<BR>of your father<BR>and screw your mother<P>the mother they pressed and o'ppressed and o'ppressed<P>but in birmingham<BR>black is hot<BR>with charred bobby socks and<BR>loosened pigtail knots<BR>smeared lipstick blots <BR>silent rows of screaming forget me nots<P>black is hot tonight<P>hot with the discourse of what life is<BR>and what it is not<P>what black is<BR>and what it is not<P>name it. name it.<P>black burns tonight<BR>footsouljahs i said<BR>foot souljahs i said <BR>foot soul jahs <BR>made in the image <BR>climbing over sharp cutting fences <BR>as the school teachers look the other way<BR>seven years old and realizing the multiplicity of idenitity <BR>they picked up picket signs much like we pick up treasured broken glasses that are heirlooms<P>black is hot tonight<P>and the serpent rises again clothing himself in his own insatiability<BR>deceptively devouring each shattered piece of the we <BR>--we never were<P>friendly god fearing politicians<BR>who pimp politcks and promises like pussy<BR>watched as the tension grew thick and red like the dirt<P>looking at the future that must have been the other way<BR>politicking and hyperbo-libbing about how they be gettin overcoats<BR>to keep out all the niggers hot air<P>everydaypeople<BR>smacked <BR>and <BR>bull whipped<BR>and bullied<BR>and bullhorned<BR>black asses<BR>and water hoses still couldn't put the fire out they fill the jails up<P>missionaries<BR>content to love everything about you but you<BR>wish they could wish your pain away with their fear<BR>pray for you but refuse you life<BR>here they<BR>dance in the light of the servitude<BR>quiver in the moon<BR>and tell us to dance that line<BR>dance that line but don't<BR>bend over and let it come to push and shove<P>but black is hot tonight<BR>and the sound is so loud<BR>it concaves in on itself <BR>a pleathora of <BR>w i d e w a n d e r i n g w o u n d s <BR>each open and hungry<P>the devils' brood<BR> smoking outside the kingdom before they<BR>step into their deacon robes<BR>then somebody reached their hands down into the dirt that southern dirt that never seems to wash of the hands <BR>never seems to wash <BR>out<P><BR>the snakes came stealing in the river<BR>plotting <BR>burial grounds<BR>and battered brown <BR>strange fruit<BR>that leaves the tounge bitter <BR>and the heart afraid<P>made their way into the temple <BR>and slayed<P>denise, cynthia, addie mae, carole<BR>two others,their eyes poked out<P>name us. name us.<P>and along with the loose apendages<BR>and broken bodies<BR>and the small profaned wombs<BR>the mounds of budding breasts<BR>and the brick embedded in denise's pressed hair<BR>and bloodied white underwear<BR>there is the smell of bubble gum<BR>and strached dresses<BR>and curly kitchens<BR>and dreams<BR>and head bands<BR>and <BR>the drumming<BR>the drumming<BR>of freedom songs and heavy heated hands<P>there are snakes in the river jordan<BR>who would come and devour our children?<BR>there are snakes in the river jordan<BR>but they have always been there<BR>been there<BR>we are reminded <BR>in that biting hissing cruel sound<P>how do i tell my child she was born to be hated?<P>oh lord black is hot tonight<BR>they are drumming the names<BR>they are drumming the names<BR>if we loose them we loose us<P>mounds of budding breasts calling out to us<BR>as we walk past reality like it is a picture show<BR>reaching out to us<BR>as we plant new seeds<BR>reaching out to us<BR>the us that makes us get up <BR>at three o'clock inthe morning and wonder what's wrong<BR>because we hurt so bad and can't name our affliction<BR>and we just want to be touched because the hurt is so prolific it moves<BR>like birth pains<BR>...like birth pains<P><BR>and black is on fire tonight<BR>as we set out into the river to cutthroat the serpents power<P>by<P>walking through the fire<BR>i said walking through the fire<P>oppressing opppressing opppressing oppressing<BR>right through it<P>and you<BR> have the nerve<BR> to say the past <BR>is past.<BR>

though long i did not find myself at all detracted by the length. good shit. i look forward to readin you bringin it real in the future. thanks for the knowledge.<BR>~boy "won" dur

u blessed us wit this one...keepem comn...<P><P>mother sistah always watchn..ruby dee

damn, you have a way with words. very powerful piece. <P>there was a lot that i liked about it, but the following was particularly deep:<P>"missionaries<BR> content to love everything about you but you<BR> wish they could wish your pain away with their fear<BR> pray for you but refuse you life<BR> here they<BR> dance in the light of the servitude"<P>keep writing. hope some more people check this out. this is even more powerful, and disturbing, juxtaposed against the recent diallo-inspired poems that have been on the board lately... from the current climate of the country, this type of thing could just as easily happen tomorrow, as there remain just as many snakes in the river jordan, as you so concisely put it. <P>x.

Thak you for bringing this to the minds of our peers... Thank you for the thoughts that now fill my head...<P><BR>"Induce others to construct a formation<BR>while you yourself are formless"<BR> Sun Tzu<P>"Liberate the mind and you go on home"<BR> OutKast<P>"When you are fully gentle,without arrogance and without aggression,you the brilliance of the universe.You develop a true perception of the universe."<BR> Chogyam Trungpa<P>"I knew this would happen..."<P>"Where is my Indigo Boy???" <P>

there are too many lines in there that hit, too many things that read wonderfully and impress meaning just by how they lay on the page...much love<P>"Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.<BR>I like to work, read, learn, and understand life." - Langston Hughes "Theme for English B"

who responded...much luv and appreciation