JUBILANT FATHER
His face is like a sun, warms the moon beside him.
She´s grown full; tonight begins the waning.
The tide pulls through her very bones,
her form aches as each wave crests.
The earth pulse, heavy, blood warm within her
Beats new chords, old sun god chants.
"You are the first mother and the last,
all spring flesh has traveled through you."
Aztec plumed and gold beaded,
your priest kneels at the holy alter,
gathers each salt pearl shed, nectar for his sacrament.
You are the temple,
we pilgrims swept through the gates,
bent figures know the scent and petals of your presence,
spread our arms to harvest blossoms,
and your priest, sun struck, kneels beside you.
(Inspired by Langston Hughes' The Trumpet Player) With a hand that seems to choke all the fear out of the air he grabs the mic, A Nigger, A Negro, A Black man, And with Sultry Lips, That lulls lukewarm lullabies, And soothes the soul. A Nigger, A Negro, A Black man, Caresing the rhythmic beat like a beautiful women, As he sings in perfect time, And rocks the love vibes boat swaying every woman, A Nigger, A Negro, A Black man, Taking his crowd on a natural high, Taking them, leading them, pulling them, To emotional extasy, giving them climax after climax, Never fleeting, Never falling, Never failing, A Negro, A Blackman, A Man,
Note after loving note, Killing softly, loving lightly, dying slowly Saving all yet giving all, A Negro, A Black man, A Man, Blending a room into one vocal sound of praise, Stroking his ego, Feeding his fire, A Black man, A man,
Slowly softly draining the life, Slowly bleeding the emotions, However raw, However ethereal, Taking it from them, And they give it willingly to this one, This Nigger, This Negro, This Black man, This Man.
