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From~ Silk Electric: Poetry by Darius Omar Williams
Copyright © 2008, Sangha
Books/Lulu
http://www.lulu.com/en/?gclid=CPrU1Yrwj5QCFRIuagodXhKEdw
Royce Bryant Smith says of poet
playwright, actor and
director. He was born and raised in
Writing from
His play, Chocolate
member of Actor’s Equity
Association. His 2007 performance of “
poetry at
Examples
from
Alice
Deloris Williams
she love me
better than i love myself
i call her sister baby miss sophia
ace-boon-coon
some enchanted evening
my mama got hips
she give me jook joint fever
gospel like a night bird on my shoulder
like moonshine going outta style
Niga Bora Dankona
(In
Nigel, Niga Bora Dankona means you are beautiful, you are loved)
for Sheila Anne Richardson
We
laughed
All night
In your
apartment
In your messy bedroom.
You
danced
The way
you used to dance
When I
played that Chaka Khan record
The one
that made me dye my hair.
You
looked so frail,
In that
large black chair,
Lips
barely holding on
Flesh
peeling off your bones,
In rhythmic waves.
I wanted
to kiss you
Goodbye---death
Uncelestial, drunken death
Like
rising water
Renouncing
your life----
Way past
I search
for syllables
To
provide your body ease.
Sitting
beside you is like
Walking
through a lake
In a pair
of
Tightly laced high-heeled shoes.
Rivers
Rivers
run inside me, through my veins
Clouds of
mist speak in strained prophetic
Silences
while trees dressed in white bark stand among
Shouting
rocks like dead lovers’ spirits
Attempting to rise. Rage. Rage.
I can feel
The river’s early morning rage.
Green
grass, Coltrane’s improvisational jazz,
Calming
me like the moon seeks revenge
After the rain. Rivers stretch wide
Across my
heart reminding me
Of an electric kiss. These trees. I want
To fly
high above them, take flight beyond
Their
bending limbs, cry to
The sun
like a new born baby,
Drown
inside the southernness of pink summer sky,
Embrace
the laughter in the breeze,
Seek
knowledge in the coming
Of night. Sweet river, bless me with your
eyes, anoint me
With your
face and I will be like those bony
Trees
standing in your presence needing release,
Needing
to dream childhood dreams,
Needing
to be baptized again and again,
So that the river is in me.
I am the
river: black, stubborn, old.
I am the
river: stretching, stretching wide.
77
Ancient river!
Give me
your legs!
Let me
walk into the black night with you.
Blacker
than the best lover I ever had.
Black
like my grandfather’s bruised and wrinkled skin.
Black like my college graduation gown.
Black and
hard like mama’s love.
River I
am yours. Let us become one.
And celebrate. My life.
The
Chickasaw
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