Situations 9

9

Writings from the AIDS Service Center NYC Creative Writing Workshop

Situations Issue No. 9 Fall/Winter 2006

SITUATIONS 9 Writings from the AIDS Service Center NYC Creative Writing Workshop

Fall/Winter 2006 Situations is a literary magazine containing the writings of participants in the Creative Writing Workshop at AIDS Service Center NYC. Copyright © 2006 by AIDS Service Center NYC, 41 East 11th Street, New York City, N.Y. 10003.

All rights revert to authors upon publication.

The ASC Creative Writing Workshop is funded by a grant from the Ryan White C.A.R.E. Act, Title I, HIV CARE Services, a project of the Medical and Health Research Association of New York City; and a grant from the Phil Zwickler Charitable and Memorial Foundation.

The printing of Situations was made possible by the generous support of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Housing Opportunities for People With AIDS, and the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. ASC extends its thanks to each of these funding sources for demonstrating the vision and commitment to support creative programming for people living with and affected by HIV/AIDS. Founded in 1990, ASC is a multiservice community organization delivering state-of-the-art peer education and training, harm reduction, specialized women’s services, HIV counseling and testing, mental health services, medical and holistic care, case management, support groups, and many other innovative programs that help New York City’s most vulnerable individuals and families to survive and thrive in the face of HIV/AIDS. ASC’s motto, “Helping many, one by one,” embodies our mission of building community, connection and stability for the thousands of New Yorkers we serve. ASC services are available in English, Spanish, French, and Haitian Creole. All ASC services are confidential.

Workshop Leader & Situations Editor/Photographer: Gerry Gomez Pearlberg Publication Design: Joseph Cavalieri ASC Program Liaison: Ramona Cummings Workshop Support Team: Iris Elizabeth Sankey, Shurland H. Aird, Ruth Bryant, Chardelle Imani Lassiter, and Theresa Ilardi.

Special thanks to: Lillian Cotto-Anglada and Tasha Harris for their assistance in typing the poems in this issue of Situations.

CONTENTS Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

4

Poems by Shurland H. Aird . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

5

Poems by Chardelle Imani Lassiter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

8

Poems by Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

11

Poems by John A. Cooper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

13

Poem by Connie A . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

14

Poems by Iris Elizabeth Sankey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

15

Poem by Wamiq ‘Ali Abdus Sabur . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

17

Poems by Theresa Ilardi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

19

Poems by Diane Dawson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

21

Poem by Darnell Robinson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

24

Poem by Larry G . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

25

Poems by Spyhrit . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

26

Poems by L. Murphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

29

Poems by Ruth Bryant . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

32

Poem by Anthony Ellis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

33

Poems by Bruce Jr. (a.k.a. Priest). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

34

Poems by Shannon Randall. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

36

Poems by Anonymous . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

37

Poems by Ashley Johnson . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

38

Poems by Yevereh et Elohim . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

40

Poems by Luther Jarman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

42

SITUATIONS

3

INTRODUCTION “Thursdays—when the workshop meets—is homecoming time with

likeminded, like-spirited people. I view it as my oasis.” — Chardelle Imani Lassiter, Workshop Participant

ASC’s Creative Writing Workshop is indeed an oasis—a place of creative fertility, of refuge and release. A place where imagination flourishes, and where the deeper self, the true self, is nurtured, encouraged, and engaged.

The workshop, which has met weekly for six and half years, is the “think-tank” where most of the poems you’ll read in this, the ninth issue of Situations, were created.

The workshop not only cultivates creative expression, but supports participants in nurturing their own sense of well-being.

The class is but one expression of how ASC embodies its mission of “helping many, one by one.”

This year, for example, the entire summer session was led by ASC Poetry Leaders—longtime workshop participants who received training and support through the Zwickler Memorial Foundation Poetry Leadership Program that has enabled them to run the workshop on their own. From June through August, ASC’s Poetry Leaders developed their own curricula and successfully facilitated the weekly workshops. Another round of training to prepare the “next generation” of Poetry Leaders is planned for 2007.

ASC also continues to provide exposure for its talented cadre of poets on its website. Check out the Zwickler Poetry Page at www.ascnyc.org to read poems and interviews featuring ASC’s poets, along with information about the workshop, the Poetry Leadership Program, and ASC as a whole.

Enjoy this issue of Situations, and savor every word and insight these amazing poets have to offer.

Gerry Gomez Pearlberg Workshop Leader

I am a question not yet answered When asked what kind of person I am there is no simple answer.

For it is an open-ended question— more open than ended.

Today, at this moment, I am content.

By the time you read this, I may not be.

Yesterday I was happy.

My only worry was that I had no money.

“No money” then meant less than twenty.

Tomorrow I hope to be alive.

Will I be happy and contented?

That’s left up to me.

Or is it?

Shurland H. Aird

Step by step I am a dot.

I am but a speck of dust In this vast universe.

Again you ask, Who am I? Let me ask you, Who do you see?

Can I be trusted to baby-sit your children?

Will you send me to the bank with a bag full of money?

Can I cook for you and not make you sick?

Will I keep your dark secrets?

Even if they torture me?

I am a question that is not easily answered.

For the answer requires that I know who I am, who I was, and who I want to be.

Shurland H. Aird

But I am also as big as the Earth.

I am a whisper, Yet I am thunder.

I am just a shade of light.

And I am blinding to the eyes.

I am a morsel of food.

I am a vat full of grain.

I am numb.

I feel deep, deep, deep inside.

I am blind.

I have the sight of a hawk high, high, high above the clouds.

I gasp for air.

I breathe the breath of life.

I am alone.

I am surrounded by many, many, many engulfing entities.

Step by step, I become One.

Shurland H. Aird

SITUATIONS

5

Where are the words Where are the words that say who I am?

Where are the words that describe where I’ve been?

Where are the words that say I can?

Where are the words that show my fears?

Where are the words that show my true feelings?

Where are the words that I am looking for?

The words. The words. The words.

In a word, I have none.

My silence is deafening.

I want to scream.

That will be a sound, not a word.

Not a word.

Shhhhhh….

Shurland H. Aird

My best friend Pat We met by chance— me out cruising, he returning from the hardware store.

Our friendship was instant.

Our love developed over time.

He taught me grace and sophistication.

I taught him patience and humility.

He opened up a whole new world to me and guided me through it all.

His family became mine, and mine became his.

Long after we were lovers, we remained best friends.

When my father died, he was there.

When I got two “Dear Shurland” letters from the same person, he was there.

When I needed help to go on vacation with him, he was there.

When I fell in love with San Francisco and decided to move there, he was pissed, hurt, and worried for me.

He, however, gave me his blessings with the understanding that at the first sign of trouble I would call and he would bring me home.

He got sick and I did come home.

I had to say goodbye to my Brother, my Lover, my Teacher, my Mentor.

He was then, and he would always be until the day I die, by best friend, Pat.

Shurland H. Aird

A time gone by Fifty cents for a hamburger.

Twenty-five for the train.

A pair of jeans only cost five dollars.

And you did not need a loan to buy a pair of sneakers.

You could see a movie or two— For five hundred dollars you could rent a mansion.

How?

A ten-dollar hooker gave you the full works.

How I dreaded making that call.

The STD was free.

What would I say?

A bottle of Ripple was just a nickel.

How would they take it?

And your groceries did not cost a bundle.

I had gone over many different versions in my mind.

But the cost of good manners

None seemed appropriate.

and the cost of respect,

How could I say

just like kindness,

I had a killing disease?

have not gone up by one cent.

How could I say I might not

six bucks got you popcorn and a soda, too.

Shurland H. Aird

live much longer?

How could I say to my nieces and nephews that I might not see them get married?

How could I say I did not want to die?

How could I say I felt ashamed?

Shurland H. Aird

To be or not to be a citizen New country. New hopes.

Changed careers.

New dreams. New realities.

Got sick.

Took the GED exam.

Got help from the government.

Nothing stood in my way.

But I was not satisfied.

I got my high school diploma.

I did not have a voice

I got a job.

to decide what was best for me.

Got laid off. Got unemployment.

I got a lawyer.

I attended college.

I got my citizenship.

Got TAP and Bell grants.

I got my say.

Got a degree.

Shurland H. Aird

SITUATIONS

7

Hue are you What’s instead of the color red?

Have you seen the reverse of green?

What is the counter-pole of gold?

Does blue have an opposite hue?

What color is brown turned around?

What shade is a rainbow upside down?

What about orange...silver…or pink?

What about Black?

What did you think?

Chardelle Imani Liter

Yum! Next time you’re…in the mood… for something extra-special good….

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

Thin-skinned It is frightening

Try some raspberry-orange sherbet sun

To be among so many,

served upon a shimmering plateau

Yet be

of mango-apricot twilight sky,

So alone.

topped by mounds of whipped-cream clouds

I am saved

floating high.

From nothing

Ah! Such a sweet! Delicious treat!

Thin-skinned

An all-you-can-eat celestial feast!

I feel your pain

Simply Divine! Pure Heaven!

It chases me

Yum!

Down these hard, mean streets I feel your fear

There’s always plenty for everyone.

Follow me around sharp corners

Help yourself.

So still, Don’t let it melt.

You sit on the stony bench I pass by

Remember…be polite, and thank the Chef.

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

Quickly, you look away Quickly, I walk away Hearing your silent screams.

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

I want some love’n I Want Some I Want Some

Love’n

I Say… I Want Some Love’n My Life I Want Some I Like You Love Some I Respect Who You Are Love Some Whe-e-e-e Have Fun Love Some Cra-a-a-z-z-y Sex Love I Want Some You’ll Never Lie Love Some You’ll Love Me ‘til You Die Love I Want Some Steady As A Rock Love Some Load And Lock Love Some You Think I’m Fine Love Even…

When I’m Fat, Bald, And Blind Love I Want Some Stay in Love Not Just Some Say In Love Give Me Some I Know Love Not… Some Stop And Go Love

I Want Some True Trust Love Not… When It Rains It Rusts Love I Want Some We’re Each Other’s Best Friend Love Some We’ll Each Be There To The End Love I Want Some Learn And Grow Love Some See And Show Love I Want Some I Need You Love, And I Need Some I Want You Love I Want Some God Sent Love Some Share The Bills And The Rent Love I Want Some You’ve Got To Bring It To Get It When We Start It We Won’t Quit It So… If You Want Some…

If You Want Some Love’n If You Want Some Love’n Your Life…

Well…

You Know.

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

SITUATIONS

9

The power within Our emotions inform our mentality That love is not expressed through brutality Control is the thing That is driving that swing Pucker up for the kiss At the end of that fist How can you live free Laugh, learn, and play When someone’s beating you senseless Almost everyday Lacerations and abrasions Will be your middle name As long as you play victim In this sick and dangerous game Scars crisscross your face Like a web of cruel lace Your mind is confused From being ill-used The next time the gun’s muzzle Is pressed against your head Could be the very first time You end up quite dead

All relationships are time-limited Try not to be selfish or terrified.

Leavings are losses, leaving vacuum-sealed and empty spaces—timeless void.

There is no

You weren’t created to be Some sick soul’s punching bag Or to be turned into A scarred up, broken down hag Don’t ever believe you deserve the abuse That you’re getting There are laws that protect you From the violence and the hitting You have the power within yourself To end this pain and strife Ask for, and seek The help you need And begin a brand new life!

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

closure.

One learns to live.

One learns to live with holes in the heart.

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

Beautiful machine I’ve learned to love you Oh Beautiful Machine At first, I hated you As if you kicked me when I was down Sometimes you’re like an overbearing boss Demanding time I don’t want to give Although you insist on making me see you 3 times a week I learned to love you anyway Like a vicious dog gone good It’s the simplest of equations You plus me equals life The ultimate finality is Without you, I will perish That’s why I’ve chosen to embrace you And I’ve learned to love you My Beautiful Dialysis

Decisions Do I continue to die?

Or choose to really live today?

Walk around mindlessly?

Or think with grace and logic?

Believe the media’s hidden lies?

Or seek the answers that lie within?

Will I spend all my days regretting poor choices?

Or learn from my mistakes?

Give unconditional love?

Or abrogate that love to those I love the most?

Place blame on others and hold grudges for a lifetime?

Or accept responsibility for my own actions?

Go the distance and triumph?

Or fall short and ultimately fail?

Machine

Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse)

Let madness engulf and deconstruct me?

Or fortify myself by embracing and defending truth?

On and on, and on, and on it goes…

The decisions you make will shape the moments you have.

Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse)

SITUATIONS

11

Balance “I am love, and I am hate, and right now love is winning by a hair.”

I am so sick and tired of your ceaseless spreading of joy and happiness.

Your never-ending jovial attitude.

Hmph! Give peace a chance?!?!

I will always defy every good thing you do, and vilify all you stand for.

I swear, if you come near, I will kick your ass!!!

Anger and violence? Now that’s the stuff I thrive on.

Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Fine)

I have been here as long as you have, so take all your caring and compassion and honesty…and go to hell!

I am Hate.

Oh you poor, poor, misguided fool.

I will continue to pray for you with kind thoughts at heart.

There’s nothing you can do to stop my sympathy and empathy.

I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

You see, without me, you couldn’t and wouldn’t exist.

I know you don’t believe it, but people need me more than you.

So you go ahead, keep trying to eclipse me, you can’t…

But you can try.

It’s when a new soul is born that I’m at my strongest.

Some you’ll be able to take to the other side.

But beware, I can be infectious, and rest assured…

I will be relentless, and every day…

Continue to spread.

I am Love.

Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse)

Moments What kind of moments will I have today?

I think of all the moments I’ve had….

A myriad of emotions Happiness, sorrow, ecstasy, rage, bravado, contrition.

Some of my moments have been caused by me And some by external entities.

I often wonder what kind of moments my future holds— Will joy prevail or will pain supercede it?

No matter what may occur I must persevere to make good choices.

Because life is simply a continuing string of moments.

And those moments are defined by the decisions I make.

Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse)

Maneuvers Maneuvers made with intent to succeed.

Maneuvers made for broken dreams—don’t make your heart sleep.

Maneuvers through heaven, hell, purgatory—

Life

the kingdoms leave you to pray.

Life is what it is meant to be.

Maneuvers in life, to make it through the day.

Maneuvers from loves, past and present.

Maneuvers that leave no resentment.

Life for me is away from friends and family.

Maneuvers that make sounds in your mind of thunderous storms.

Maneuvers that reminisce of your first love in a song.

Attempting suicide is not the answer.

Maneuvers that make you laugh, love, then cry.

Maneuvers that have you not scared of death, or even scared to die.

John A. Cooper

Grinding it out— there is a chance for him and her.

Why not take death by its horns?

And hold on and be strong.

It’ll be a wild ride to the bitter end.

With life on your side you’ll find out death was your best friend.

While you were alive, you will have great, joyous, and sorrowful stories to tell on the other side.

God’s love is unconditional and He does forgive.

That’s why life is so fun.

That’s why I choose to live.

John A. Cooper

SITUATIONS

13

Connie A.

In dreams In dreams I am in fire and rain.

In heaven, in hell—feelings of splendor and pain.

In dreams I laugh and cry.

There are demons and heavenly skies.

In dreams there is sanctuary and fear, The future and reliving of past years.

Connie A.

Belize haiku City’s Canal Catfishes,

Phallic flowers

Clean slop buckets.

Always sold out.

Fishes jumping for joy

Blue virgin skies

With calmness of sea.

Azure blue Sea Blue me.

Worm infested

Black snake

Ripe guavas

Dangling from tree

Dangle from tree.

Over my head.

Iris Elizabeth Sankey

Iris Elizabh Sankey

Solutions Inspired by Ms. Jacqueline Kingston

Let us suppose ourselves in each other’s shoes:

(97th Street Ryan Center)

Trying Hurting

Solutions without complications we ask:

Persevering.

Not aggravation Condemnation

For we know not of circumstances:

Interrogation.

Delaying Changing

Soothe from us the truth of situations causing:

Suffocating.

Humiliation Self-destruction

Solutions without further problems we ask,

Suicidal notions.

Cause we’re sick and tired of: Accusation

Help save us to:

Pseudo-pretense

New realization

Crucifixion.

Transformation Freedom from dissolution.

For all have sinned and come short of the glory Of our Creator,

For we are students and teachers sometimes:

In whom we yet will call upon for:

Stumbling

Rejuvenation

Fumbling

Solutions

Assuming.

Salvation….

Iris Elizabeth Sankey

SITUATIONS

15

30 haiku Silence—

In two thousand six

Butterfly chose me

A gem, a tool,

Black rookie kicked to death by

Fingers cocked for the shoot

Advantage, disadvantage,

U.S. Militia.

Of its stark beauty.

The power of love—

Strait of Broadway

Butterflies by night

Adding, subtracting, clinging;

Parts of it colored Black and White:

Create social gathering

Still I choose.

Nannies and babies.

Skating and sliding.

Today I forgave…

Corner ninety-eight

Fly kept teasing me

So that nothing’s left to give

Broadway swarms with ten white cops,

While I recited my poems

That wasn’t given.

Stun guns, and nude brother…

About flying things.

Before five a.m.

1626

Angelina Jolie

Aloneness in prayers melts

First 11 slaves were brought

Paid lip service to Judges

Meshing me universally.

Into U.S. jail…

Letting her go free.

Yesterday’s mania

Black ants in long line

Who stole my picture

Took control and—

Getting stepped on at church’s

Of boa constrictor and me

Crashed my computer.

Soup kitchen.

Posing in the nude?

My cat drinking rain

Oh painful shingles

I get money

Falling

You’re asking my every nerve

It gets me back

From my eyes.

To surely kill you.

As swift as I spend.

…my cat walking me

Silent noise screaming

Blood red ripe tomatoes

To supermarket and back

Within bottle of my body

In a dream

Then jetting his way.

Showing off shingles.

With dead Granny.

My boy all blond

On a grassy mound

In E.R.

Surrounded by black girlfriends

Overlooking New Jersey

I’m oxygenized to life.

Meowing at once.

A sandy anthill.

My Haiku—

One is truly free

Mounting subway stairs

We both agree less is more

Only as a babe, and after death

Pigeon pooped atop my head

Pronounced quality.

And then beyond

And flew away fast.

Saucy Haiku

I am a student

The number 2 train

As sweet as sugar cane

I am a teacher teaching

Came crowded and on fire—

Standing erect.

I am my own end.

And continued on.

Iris Elizabeth Sankey

There comes a time There comes a time in our lives to seize the moment and enjoy the glory.

A time to be understood, stand alone in life, yet not to be lonely.

There comes a time when good things seem bad, and bad things good.

Yet when in time did we analyze the difference— I mean really understood?

There comes a time to say, “I’m sorry,” and be truly apologetic for the wrong we have done.

Then, also, we must be truly humble and give

Wamiq Ali Abdus Sabur

thanks for life and its fun.

There comes a time to learn to carry the load and not let the load carry you.

There is also the time to be thankful to God for letting you see the sunlight come shining through.

Wamiq Ali Abdus Sabur

SITUATIONS

17

What are feelings What are feelings and the things that they cause?

What does this have to do with life, and why do we try to find the source?

Feelings, from my understanding, are something that cause a ball of confusion.

Life’s road is a continuous twist and turn with unknown directions.

Frankie Beverly, Luther Vandross, Teddy Pendergrass, Barry White, The Whispers and numerous others have all talked about feelings, yet who knows the true definition of feelings?

There are many different feelings that cause us to laugh or cry, feelings that cause us to think of why.

I need to understand what this means to me and you.

Many have lived there through the ages of time.

Please tell me how they do.

Can we fight through the good and the bad, and the ages of time?

For I know that you know what this may be— I got your back and you got mine.

Wamiq Ali Abdus Sabur

Only last night For John-John, Joey, Katie, and Chris John-john, only last night read you Dr. Seuss, covered you in blanket, while inhaling baby powder and shampoo.

Thera Ilardi

Joey, only night we talked about nothing and everything.

Hugged and you said, “Love you Ma.” Your voice is changing.

Katie, only last night dropped by you on your first day at new job— sweet sixteen in brand new Dunkin’ Doughnuts uniform. You snuck me coffee on the sly and remembered I didn’t take sugar. I am so proud of you.

Chris, only last night e-mailed you to let you know everything’s cool.

Your baby brother home from hospital and all is well.

Only last night violated shelter rules by staying out a whole five days.

Oh well, thank you God for last night.

Theresa Ilardi

Fourteen candles Eyes with hate stare me down across my child’s birthday cake.

Candles are blown out.

It’s time to hide.

Theresa Ilardi

SITUATIONS

19

225-64 Building stands alone with numerous places to wander.

Basement chains my deep, dark desires.

Upstairs: many dark rooms with fears leaping out of corners.

Down hall, another room, sunlight streaming on parquet floors.

Keep out the closet—flying bones.

Upstairs: a large, bright, gay nursery.

Hanging in air, birthday balloons, pink, green, and blue.

Well-used toys strewn about.

A good place.

Sure you wanna go there?

?

Boxes and trunks—bad memories keep them locked up.

Yes, yes you can.

Another climb—rooftop, fresh air.

No, no it’s too damn hard.

Can see the beach waves crashing forth.

And fucking unfair.

View of my possibilities.

Wasn’t born no shelter rat—

Your eyes tear away from mine.

but dying one, fear that.

Offside the door: attic stair.

Silence.

Have you nothing to say after traveling my soul?

Theresa Ilardi

Theresa Ilardi

Staying in Day in, day out Know there’s something more.

Too tired to find it.

It’s raining outside.

Theresa Ilardi

The good fight Wanna be free, wanna let go.

Ties are holding me down.

Body hurting and sore from the fight.

Day I stop trying is the day I lose.

Theresa Ilardi

NY state of mind New York, New York, a helluva town, The Bronx is up and the Battery’s down.

Diane Dawson

The cops will kick your ass all over the town.

Do you think you’ll make it to work on time?

I don’t think so—there is no #2 or #3 service at this time.

Let me see some I.D., why are you in this neighborhood when you know you shouldn’t be? Damn I gotta pee, think I’ll run into Micky D’s— What you mean I have to be a customer to use your facilities!?

I’m in a rush, maybe I’ll take a cab, $2.50 just to sit down Shit, I think I’ll take the bus.

I think I’ll go to the park and write some poetry—dammit, there’s no place to sit in this society.

Every time I go to an event, I think I’ll be the first in line—dammit, there’s a million muthafuckas in line. I’m never alone in this city, I could be in Chinatown or up in Riverside— I can’t seem to get away from These people, no matter how hard I try.

I will be a Native New Yorker until the day I die.

Diane Dawson

SITUATIONS

21

This is a poem about my life This is a poem about my life— Railroad tracks & Crackerjack boxes, playing in empty lots, jumping up & down on urine-soaked mattresses This is a poem about my life—

This is a poem about my life—

Head of the class in elementary, only

Working 9-to-5 every day, no vacation,

black family on the block, fighting

smoking cocaine-laced cigarettes on my

every day to protect my baby brother

break to keep me awake, moving from one job to the next

This is a poem about my life— Very popular in Junior High, I was

This is a poem about my life—

no one without my gang, smoking pot

Knight in shining armor arrives, fully loaded

& harmonizing in the 5th floor bathroom

with the AIDS virus, strikes me down with his mighty sword & leaves me to die

This is a poem about my life— One hour a day is when I saw the

This is a poem about my life—

inside of High School, drinking wine

Have crack pipe, will travel,

from a brown paper bag on the corner

unprotected sex is being had

in the dead of winter—too cool!

in a cloud of smoke—begging, pleading for this life to be over This is a poem about my life— Rehab, clean & bright, 12-stepping my way to a brand new life, smelling roses for the first time in years This is a poem about my life— To be continued....

Diane Dawson

Friend To my so-called friend who ate at my Thanksgiving table every year To my so-called friend with my family

Pain away

To my so-called friend

Cruel world, surprises around every

who sat in the cubicle next to mine at work

corner, strangers with hidden

who broke bread & swapped old stories

To my so-called friend who always smoked & drank behind me To my so-called friend who made my days a lot brighter

agendas, I must keep pushing forward.

Decisions, some good, some bad.

Body aches & night sweats interrupting my sleep.

Youth is slipping away— why now? I thought it was promised

To my so-called friend

to me forever. Where is all this

who cried with me when I told her

pain coming from? Is there a pill

I had AIDS

I can take to keep me from old age? Up & down stairs every day,

To my so-called friend who doesn’t return my phone calls anymore

standing on my weary legs for 7 hours— want to give up, but can’t. How can I start my life over when half of it

To my so-called friend who got a better job & quit the old one without notice

is gone? I feel like a tree in winter.

Working for nothing, trying to get something, every time I turn around, there is a bill hanging

To my so-called friend

about—I can’t give up, not now.

where are you now,

Where is the light at the end of

now is when I need you the most

this very long tunnel?—I must keep

To my so-called friend FUCK-YOU!! I hate you for leaving me all alone To my so-called friend

pushing forward because I know there is a reward at the end.

I hope.

Diane Dawson

I’ll be just fine without you Because you were never my friend From the start

Diane Dawson

SITUATIONS

23

Trickin’ (PART II)

Now I am on this journey.

Now I am on this trip.

I am still using drugs….

I still feel like sh-t.

I thought this life would make a difference….

I thought I’d feel the change….

I’m caught up in this trickin’ and now I’m so ashamed.

Now I’m feeling undernourished, I think I’m getting sick.

I feel so goddamn tired. I’m feeling so damn ick.

Now I get my test results—what a shock, what a pain.

I thought I was living large.

Now I’m feeling slain.

Now I feel like dying.

Darnell Robinson

I see I’m still alive.

Even though I don’t want to live, I think I will survive.

Now I seek my purpose. I want to know my “counts.”

I take myself to the doctor, but oftentimes I bounce.

Now it’s time for me to learn about this illness and what it’s doing to me.

I know now that I feel really good, as healthy as can be.

Will this illness kill me? I’ll have to wait and see.

Now I see my lab reports. Now I see some light.

As I learn about this thing, I think I have a fight.

An ounce of love, an ounce of hope, an ounce of life to share.

But first let me get off these drugs, so that my thinking clears…

Off to treatment.

(To be continued….)

Darnell Robinson

Emotion weep I need you over here.

I have been waiting for you.

Standing, waiting, blankness.

Haste makes waste.

Where am I going?

A solitary journey taking shape before my eyes.

I smell your breath twirling upon my face.

My body is moving slowly— let’s finish here first.

Larry G.

Larry G.

SITUATIONS

25

Reason to shine To get past these hills & mountains has been a difficult climb.

To fight the stress & pain to walk through the clouds & the rain, that was the power!

There were those times (too many to mention) that I had to steal courage & break through pretension.

The right to experience joy

Spyhrit

I thought the day would never come & with all that I’ve been cut from— Where was the clearest day? I would ask to dust the boots off & take on the task.

I never thought the tears, the fears would go away.

Now I’ve seen the light & now I feel the plight to move towards the sun I truly do feel the need to have some fun.

That “Christmas” came later was greater, like a butterfly running free from the cocoon.

I finally got to see the ray of the moon.

I got to hear the music I got to walk the entrance I got to do that dance & pride womaness.

He know the beauty.

I don’t need permission.

No more friction, not any more.

That with my head held high, I got from night to morn that I got from dark to light once again.

That the strength & the goal gave me the smile of my children’s faces I could surpass one million races with that kind of energy That through all this trial, this tribulation I can finally kiss what I’ve missed, And the reason has finally come— the reason to shine!

Spyhrit

Shoulda said no I keep wonderin’ what the hell is wrong with me/why can’t I see that I take myself places I don’t have to go, when all I need to say is: NO. I get inside my head and like a little child I want to come out and play and the weatherman says rain and I get inside my brain and say, “So.” “No.” Hindsight is 20/20/shoulda said, “No”…

It’s like I walk in front of a speeding car, you’re coming through & I see through you, a chocolate candy bar a cup of coffee/a French fry that hit of cocaine and I find reality is I should have never touched it, was supposed to say, “No”

I heard what you said, gotta piece in the middle not a beginning but an end understood a little and defied what I heard, I misunderstood the word I didn’t “miss” I just wanted to twist/ wanted to dance that move of dreaming, to free the longing.

Wanted to feel/ wanted to snatch what I knew I couldn’t— But once again I saw you, wanted the epiphany/wanted to feel warm, wished for infinity/& alas with all of this…..

Knowing the “no” that there is not a go/ but to keep on stepping and keep on prepping on life’s terms…

Say yes to keep on prepping on life’s terms.

Spyhrit

SITUATIONS

27

Suppose we A thought: French toast w/ vanilla nutmeg & cinnamon Wow, where are you? * Caller ID I heard the sound No voice Non, verbal * I went to the store/ Saw all the little-big stuffed animals snug in red Heart-shaped

Sleep

Be mine

I need it, I want it

Some words stubborn

I gotta have it.

Miss you!/Hug me!

It’s so necessary

*

to one’s existence.

S.I. ferry/huge ship

Without it, it creates

Moving quietly and patiently

a feeling of “spent.”

*

Can’t even feel it/ Can you?

If only it could happen

*

for a few hours &

Supposition!

I could get it that time,

Join in/

but it only comes few

Communicate

spurts here, there!

Perhaps, understand.

If I could close my eyes

*

& feel gratified

Why get lost?

I would be so satisfied.

When we can be found.

It ain’t happening, it

Spyhrit

ain’t coming & all night long/I just need it to be free to do it slowly & with comfort…such an important thing it is. Something like sleep.

Spyhrit

Dreams aren’t reality Some say everything that’s too good to be true isn’t what it really is, now is it?

Some people daydream a lot— in too deep into the dream one starts to think that they are actually there.

See, dreams aren’t reality.

Some of us wish they were, but life wasn’t fixed that way.

Lorenzo Murphy

See, too deep into a deep sleep can be harmful or maybe deathly.

Remember the old saying, when someone is falling in their sleep whether from a building or a cliff and while you’re sleeping and fall off your bed and hit the floor you die.

It never happened to me personally and I hope it never does.

In that case, dreams can be reality.

You know, on the other side of this dream thing, if you’re living right, you have nothing to worry about, right?

So remember the Ten Commandments: Thou shall respect thy parents….

So the next time your mother asks you to eat all of your vegetables, do so, OK? So sweet dreams And good night.

L. Murphy

Staying put right here right now I usually wake up with an urge of any kind— “the urge” meaning a drug of any kind.

Feeling, tasting, in a zone out of mind and body, for a brief minute or five, at the least.

What’s come over me?

I’m not even doing a drug of any kind.

Am I still a user? Not physically, but mentally, or is my brain telling me that I have a choice?—Wow! It’s hard staying put right here, right now.

Staying put, right here, right now.

I’m overflowing with many thoughts in my mind.

Am I on the verge of a breakdown?

Forgive me, mind, for I sometimes don’t know what I want to do, but for now I’m staying put right here, right now.

L. Murphy

SITUATIONS

29

Growing up to grow up In order to be legal a person has to have legal documents to be a U.S. citizen.

The same goes for underage drinking. You see, one has to be 21 years of age to do so in some states, you know or if you are a girl, 18 is the age to become a woman so to speak—

Painless feeling Painless feelings— is there suicide in the making?

Thoughtless ideals pointless memoirs memories not yet spoken of— endless causes.

Only you, the person in question, knows the answer— what actually goes on in the mind of a person whose thoughts are nothing but brutal and fatal intentions.

If there were an answer to this situation so many people would to this day be alive.

Painless feelings— thinking of ending it all and for what reason?

Unknown for now.

Can medication prescribed by a doctor help?

Who knows?

Who really cares anymore?

L. Murphy

for a man, 21 or 23.

Once again, in some states how old one has to be to grow up is not the same— and once you’re there how long does it take to act grown?

Remember the old saying, “I can’t wait to get old enough so I can move out”?

Well, we are still saying that old saying, but we are already grown up— but why aren’t we grown yet?

L. Murphy

OK, it came and went and I’m still here—why?

I know the Lord blessed me with many talents, such as singing, drawing, oh and of course my coming out to the world.

See, knowledge of bad news Saying, “Yes, I am

came from the media

a gay Black man

and for that we’re all to blame.

and proud of it.”

Because only each person who went on going through this disease

Yes, I go through this

with the four-letter word

ritual every day.

knows about it better than anyone.

Talking to myself.

Forgive me for being so blunt about it.

Wondering to myself.

I’m just tired of what he, she, they are saying

Questioning the Lord

about something that

about my existence.

they don’t even know about.

Maybe the answer is in front of my face.

Learning about AIDS and how to prevent it

Whatever it is, I don’t care.

is the best weapon

Use me, Lord, like a wet sponge,

we all can share together

’cause I want it all—

as a race

meaning knowledge.

of different

Let me absorb it.

colors, OK?

L. Murphy

SITUATIONS

31

Beginning or end I’ve wondered, is it true? What goes around comes around—back to the beginning?

Ingredients: Shake, shake, squirt, squirt, probe, probe.

Then collect and deposit on Petri dish.

Should you stir well or do they find themselves?

Got to find housing for nine months, then—behold!

Fruits of the doctor’s labor materialize!

Ruth Bryant

Now tell me—after said fruits have made full circle, do they return to their beginning?

I think not!!

January 20, 2003

Ruth Bryant

Oh what a glorious sight to behold on awakening— Open the blinds, and behold!

Winter wonderland!

What purity! An artist’s dream of virginity— Unspoiled by human nature.

21st century blues

The branches abound with white—wait—

Today’s youth is singing the

it resembles…

“Only a Sperm Donor Blues.”

flowing soft white hair at various lengths.

Forgotten are the carefree Hip Hop dances with pulsating disco lights,

The tree trunks are divided in color,

where dancers were repelling magnets

because of the snow having blown in one direction,

or jumping beans.

only embracing one side.

That eventually diminished to soft, pleading lyrics.

I stand and observe this scene until virtually

Couples meshed together,

the snow-covered grass becomes—moi.

slowly pressing their pants or skirts as they gyrated sensually to the music.

Come children and romp!!

Ruth Bryant

The begging and promises followed.

Succumbing to submission….

She now sings the “OSD Blues.”

Ruth Bryant

No cut card Straight to the point like the smoke that leaves your basement From a well approved joint…

Straight to the soul, words unafraid and swiftly bold; No Cut Card, therefore one must understand her words are direct as the sun upon the desert sands: No Cut Card, right from the heart….meaning no harm; but if the shoe fits; she is one of courage and outspokenness…

Caring much for others believing all are Sisters and Brothers, yet does she draw a thin line so we be ready to learn to stay if you may be spiritually inclined: Caring for the needs of others, caring for their feelings— Also as her opinions appear as from the midst of the dark: Beauty of Soul is her ultimate goal, therefore does she work on her peers as a blacksmith upon his fiery coals: Given a very common name and much common sense, a Lady almost always, a person Heaven-sent….

Walking so positive, never cheating, getting involved not without preparation; a lover of people and to some a great inspiration. However no cut card, surely always on time with outspoken words meant to heal us from the wild ills of fantasy and slowly bring us to the reality of change.

Anthony Ellis

SITUATIONS

33

Bruce Jr. (a.k.a. Prit)

Hole in my soul I finally decided my soul was where that empty space was deep within me, that hollow spot that was always craving something to fill it.

But nothing could satisfy it. It was a lingering hunger, but for what I never knew. So I decided that if I did indeed have a soul, it had a huge hole in it. A hole as big as a hula-hoop, I decided, more hole than soul.

It was a wounded soul aching to be healed.

Love is what the soul thrives on.

I found love. That hole in my soul is filled.

Only a mother could love.

In loving memory of my mother, Florence P. Morgan, Brooklyn’s best.

Bruce Jr. (a.k.a. Priest)

Brothers, sisters My brothers are my friends.

My sisters are my friends.

Show me, I am the baby brother.

Show me life that dances under the pale moonlight. Show me, brothers, where boys become men. Sisters, show me where girls become women.

Brothers, show me—what’s the meaning of life?

Sisters, show me why a man should not cry.

Brothers, I’m scared to die. HIV got my body.

My sisters, I love you. My brothers, I need you.

Help me, I am in pain.

I learned, thank God. He freed my pain, brothers and sisters.

I love and respect, dear to my heart I do confess, my brothers and sisters they’re the best.

Thank you, God. For we know our mother can rest.

She gave us strength to move on.

My brothers and sisters, she made us strong.

We are family.

Bruce Jr. (a.k.a. Priest)

State of confusion Who’s right, who’s wrong?

Go left, go right.

Go forward, go back.

Go up, go down.

Stand up or sit down.

Walk or run.

Talk or be quiet.

Look up, look down, or spin around.

You sad-faced clown— who’s right, who’s wrong, stop or go go or stop look, listen, and learn.

No one knows who’s right, who’s wrong— listen to the story: I am gone.

I am back.

Still whack.

Who’s right? Who’s wrong?

Bruce Jr. (a.k.a. Priest)

SITUATIONS

35

He was in the army, living in Germany.

Very obedient, very strict—didn’t play that shit— but at the same time, very lenient, somewhat playful.

I was the one with the attitude but my sister was the one always getting in trouble.

She got beat constantly, nonstop.

She cried and cried. Sometimes wouldn’t say a word.

“Who made this mess?!” came from the man standing tall in his army fatigue uniform.

My sister pissed her pants, ran in the room— we both knew she was doomed.

“I did.” He turned and walked away.

“Why don’t you come and hit me?” is what I said.

The look he gave, I thought I’d see an early grave.

But to my surprise, he broke down and cried.

Shannon Randall

Shannon Randall

The world is full of life.

Our spirits, our souls fly like a kite, meaning we’re free.

Free like a bird soaring in the sky going past beyond just to feel that high of being alive and acting like we’re roaming the streets listening to music beats walking, running heavy on the feet.

Man, it’s great to be alive.

Sooner or later we’re all going to die.

But for now, I’ll enjoy my high.

Shannon Randall

The haircut Having a haircut today Soothing fingers working shampoo in, rinse of water Smell of berry conditioner in my hair.

Different chair now. Scissors begin to cut away.

Sound and feel makes me tremble.

Kind young girl places her hand on my shoulder Asks if I’m okay.

How do I say nothing can compare to your haircut?

STUPID BITCH Hands slam me against the wall LET ANOTHER MAN TOUCH YOUR HAIR Am knocked to the floor NOTHING BUT A CUNT AND A WHORE Curl into ball as feet begin to stomp me GOT A SURPRISE FOR YOUR ASS Kicking stops suddenly Hot wet sobs are choking me Your body on top of mine Cold steel against my neck Scissors are hacking my hair away If I move or fight, where will the scissors go next?

“Honey, I’m done.”

Look up, startled to see she’s finished.

Blow-dryer stops. Did I hear it start?

Few last-minute flicks with the comb.

Touch new, lighter hair.

Thank the kind young girl.

Look down at the floor at tired dead-ends chopped away.

Could hate you today But choose to leave you behind with those dead-ends.

Anonymous

White Castle Mommy works at White Castle.

Empire and Utica, whizzing past cars to serve them their midnight snacks.

Where are we?

Four little girls alone at night and Daddy’s in charge.

Watch your back.

Who spilled milk at dinner?

Or needed a failing test signed?

All you have to do is simply roll your eyes to get sent to the end of the long hallway.

That walk feels like a mile.

Curl into bed with sad eyes.

No one is speaking or asking questions.

We all know the drill.

Big Sister slips next to me from upper bunk.

Curl into her warm embrace.

Quiet, dark room.

Mommy comes home in morning light to check that we are safe.

Anonymous

SITUATIONS

37

Walking away from the light I sit here in the dark cold shadow, my bones rattle at the awful thought of entering the light. Something so bright and wonderful turns to something gloomy and wicked. The people so full of hatred and spite. Where is the love and friendship we all desire to have? No more good laughs are spread, only tears are shed. Too much blood is spilled, too many people are killed. Your debts

Ashley Johnson

will build when your time has come. Don’t run, for he knows, hears, and sees all. He’s the Alpha and the Omega, who is, who was, and who is to come.

Ashley Johnson

Men Where are the good men these days? Outside smoking that haze. Getting lock-up left and right—hope those cheeks are closed-up tight. On the corner selling drugs, maybe stealing antique rugs. In a shelter, broke with no money, scouting for some honey to bang, getting cut-up cause they sang to the cops.

Up in the PJ’s smoking them white rocks. Men’s hard-earned pay is easily spent at a hotel. Being a trick getting some head from some white chick on the bed. Living at your Mama’s house at 30 years old, living that easy-life road. Good men are hard to find—a man with a state of mind.

Ashley Johnson

Cathy So isolated from life, a path she chose. Seeks nurturing but doesn’t know how to ask. An ambition to succeed, but a desire to protect. Vulnerable to the world, but compassionate at heart. Though most of humanity is obnoxious, uncivil, and rude, it doesn’t stop her from being sympathetic and caring. Homesick for a world that doesn’t exist. A world full of life and joy, where there’s love and happiness throughout the day. As long as there is hatred and disgust, the world will never subsist. The only advice she provides is, Bless those who persecute you, bless and not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Don’t be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Ashley Johnson

My friend My friend isn’t special or smart. Isn’t part of any sport of any kind. Not fine or cute. Doesn’t play the flute or any instrument or tune. No time soon do I expect my friend to be rich. My friend doesn’t wish or hope for better things in life. My friend isn’t a human of any kind. For he is at my right hand, and I will not be shaken. My heart is glad and my tongue rejoices. Because he will not abandon me. He has made known to me the paths of life. He will fill me with joy in his presence.

Love

Ashley Johnson

When you’re in love, your heart gets a warm feeling inside.

The passions of two lovers collide together as one. You’ve won the great desire to experience such affection. To have someone to be your protection. Show your devotion to your other half.

It’s simple math, just follow the right path. Your life is in slow motion, but at its own pace. Don’t race, for love takes time.

It’s a crime not to love. Love is patient, love is kind. It doesn’t envy, it’s not self-seeking, it’s not proud. It’s not rude, it’s not easily angered. Love doesn’t delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres.

Ashley Johnson

SITUATIONS

39

Will you look at her Dusty face, rusty nails missing teeth, missing sock.

Please, will you look at her?

Tears of pain roll down her swollen face.

She sits in that puddle of mud, fear in her eyes.

Please, will you look at her?

Not asking to live with you, nor suggesting dinner at Toa’s— all she needs is the need for you to be there.

Not asking you to wash her clothes.

Nor asking you to help her move out of state.

Hardship it’s so painful how can i endure this pain i know you’re teaching me how to walk i long to learn how to lift my feet yet this is hardship hardship because You love me there is long suffering the world’s gonna think i’m lost it hurts too much to let go but i want to learn this is hardship

Please, will you look at her?

hardship because You love me

She needs reassurance

it’s hard to say goodbye

that she’ll live tomorrow—

thought it was for the strong

wants to be assured that she’s a woman,

i for one do not possess the gift of goodbyes

that her beauty is outstanding.

now it’s my turn this is hardship

Please, will you look at her?

hardship because You love me

Tell her tonight

the road is foggy

she’s a ray of sunlight,

i keep tripping on these rocks

wipe her tears and

my toes are sore

hold her hand real tight.

yet with sore feet

Tell her she’s God’s pearl.

i’m walking this dusty road this is hardship

Please, will you look at her?

Yevereh Et Elohim

hardship because You love me

Yevereh Et Elohim

You are you’re that sun that sets so beautifully you’re that flower that grows on the bricks you’re that smile that no one deserves you’re that heart that cries out for justice you’re that eye that corrects but does not judge you’re that comfort when there’s no end you’re the place people call home you are a woman

Yevereh Et Elohim

Emptiness as i look at my life i see the “What Ifs” that cross my mind i wish i could’ve had the wisdom to understand why certain things were the way they were now there’s nothing left to hold onto there’s this sense of emptiness within my soul i’ve let people in my life i’ve traveled the greatest cities i’ve tasted all that life has to offer yet i sit alone in this room waiting for answers there’s this sense of emptiness within my soul

Wonders of your beauty

my father cannot fill, nor my mother neither my closest friends nor my lover it’s beyond human comprehension i’ve come this far to life yet there’s something missing

when you speak

not even the smoothest touch of human hands

even the winds obey

can come close to healing this gap within me

when you blink

there’s this sense of emptiness within my soul

even the mountains bow when you breathe

this loneliness is breaking every bone in my heart

even the oceans sleep

and it’s only now, only now

when you whisper

that my worst enemy, solitude, is what fills that gap

even the clouds pause

in solitude You capture my heart

when you sleep

only in solitude can i

even the earth rotates no more

truly cherish your presence

when you near

there’s this sense of emptiness within my soul

even the sun heats no more

that only You, my Creator, can fill

when you love even my heart pounds no more

Yevereh Et Elohim

Yevereh Et Elohim

SITUATIONS

41

Martin Luther King Jr., the dreamer The dreamer went to the mountaintop.

The dreamer can be killed.

But the dream can’t be stopped.

Let Justice roll down like a mighty stream.

Luther Jarman

I refuse to have writer’s block I refuse to have writer’s block.

I come from the school of hard knocks.

I’ll write about dirty socks.

Pickup your pen and begin.

Stir up the gift of God within.

You can even write about sin.

Write about something you love.

Write about Michael Jackson’s glove.

Write about the stars above.

Poet, write or die!

You can write if you try— You’ll create something by and by.

All poets know how to lie.

I refuse to have writer’s block.

Come from the school of hard knocks.

I’ll write about dirty socks Or hitting somebody in the head with a rock.

I refuse to have writer’s block.

Luther Jarman

Thank you, Martin, for your dream.

Luther Jarman

Martin and my father Martin was born in Georgia, the son of a black minister.

My Father was born in Georgia, the son of a black minister.

Martin was a man of peace.

My Father was a violent man, full of hatred, wild and crazy.

I interview Luther Jarman on the four elements Question: What is your favorite element?

My Father lived by the gun and died by the gun in Lockland, Ohio.

Martin died by the gun too.

I hope I don’t die by the gun.

Luther Jarman

Answer: Earth.

Our birth is from mother Earth.

Everything of worth comes from the dirt— the food we eat, the precious gems, automobile parts, and artificial limbs.

Question: Which element do you like least?

Answer: Fire.

It can keep you warm or do you harm, but it is good for cooking your food.

Question: Being an Aquarius, do you feel at home with water?

Answer: In the desert water is more precious than gold.

Water quenches the thirsty soul.

Question: Which brings us to wind—what association do you have with it?

Answer: Wind is the air we breathe.

Cool air always relieves.

That’s why we have the windows open.

Luther Jarman

SITUATIONS

43

Genealogy Ignorance and alcohol has made many men fall.

Granddad always had a half-gallon of Old Granddad 100% proof Kentucky straight bourbon.

Drinking corn licker and dandelion wine, sick and crazy out of his mind.

Beer and cheap licker swiss up made your car drive quicker.

Drinking vodka straight, vomiting on your date.

Kentucky Hustler and hunks, a bunch of bluegrass drunks.

Mama was a drunk, daddy was too.

Being an alcoholic will make you blue.

Luther Jarman

Poet on an ego trip I am the master poet and I know it.

I write, write, write.

I recite, recite, recite.

I take the word and make the word “Flesh.”

I write better than the rest.

I am P-O-E-T with capital “P”.

The master poet, they don’t write better than me.

I been writing for forty years.

Through blood, sweat, and tears.

Through the Vietnam War. I have my battle scars.

I wrote about almost everything you can name.

I’m the master of the poetry game.

I am the language-maker.

I am the heart breaker.

Being a boozer made me a loser.

I remember everything I did.

Now I am the comeback kid.

Luther Jarman

Inside back cover blank.

ASC’s Creative Writing Workshop provides a forum for creative expression, healing, and hope for people affected by HIV/AIDS. For more information, visit ASC’s website, www.ascnyc.org, or call 212-645-0875.

helping many, one by one AIDS Service Center NYC 41 East 11th St., New York, NY 10003 (212)645-0875

fax 645-0705

www.ascnyc.org