artists

The Day Misery Knocks
Don’t fret the day misery
knocked at your door
you knew he’d come
take off his shoes
break all your rules
put a squeeze on your toothpaste tube
dirty up the tub
use all the ice cubes
He hadn’t lain in your lap
to tell you he’d stay
If he reaches the door, leaving
he comes right back immediately, saying
i left my keys
can you wash these
more time please
to gather his things
But remember this
you are king of all you survey
if misery has overstayed a welcome
show him the way
because only you have the key

Poem For Black Boys (With special love to James)
Where are your heroes, my little Black ones
You are the Indian you so disdainfully shoot
Not the big bad sheriff on his faggoty white horse
You should play run-away-slave
Or Mau Mau
These are more in line with your history
Ask your mothers for a Rap Brown gun
Santa just may comply if you wish hard enough
Ask for CULLURD instead on Monopoly
DO NOT SIT DO NOT FOLLOW KING
GO DIRECTLY TO STREETS
This is a game you can win.
As you sit there with all your understanding eyes
You know the truth of what I’m saying
Play Back-to-Black
Grow a natural and practice vandalism
These are useful games (some say a skill even learned)
There is a new game I must tell you of
Its called Catch The Leader Lying
(and knowing your sense of the absurd you will enjoy this)
also a company called revolution has just issued a special kit for little boys called Burn Baby
I’m told it has full instructions on how to siphon gas and fill a bottle
Then our old friend Hide and Seek becomes valid
Because we have much to seek and ourselves to hide from a lecherous dog
And this poem I give is worth much more than any nickle bag or ten cent toy
And you will understand all too soon
That you, my children of battle, are your heroes
You must invent your own games and teach us old ones how to play.
4/2/67……..
–Nikki Giovanni

Step To The Table
step to the table with a pen
release all the static within
view the universe clearly
in my thoughts sand, gravel slipping through my hands
cocoa butter memories swim around
this intellectual revolutionary
bury me with dark chocolate and a floatie
i can back stroke through the essence of life
anger and admiration raise the question
are you really that comfortable with ignorance?
ebonics has spread like the bubonic plague
devil obscured our language to make meaning vague
if you can’t comprehend what i said
let me reiterate
in communication lies peace these words we preach
but the violence can’t cease if no one understands us
ninety percent of your speech is driven by thought
think of the truth
translate that into actions dominated by ninety percent of your heart