TO C. H., THE JAZZ DRUMMER
by Thelma P. Fernandez-Yarish (jan. 4,
apr 4, 1975J
saw you move into the drums like a watusi dancer and I became your woman your African Queen.
Twas not the lights that shone on you but the African sun and me, that made your body glisten and shine for all to see.
my heart beat fast with the rhythm of your drums guiding me like a man guides his woman in love.
your strong wet arms held me tight, your hips guided mine, we sang out into the last beat, everyone clapped and clapped and clapped
(DEFINITION: BUCK LOVE)
by Robert Hill
Love is blacknuss encirclin' me surroundin' me consumin' me givin'/takin' takin'/givin' changin' me but never endin'
by Faye Miller Knox
Bad and weeping times are now.
When my man is gone (vanished) I know and care not where.
And the baby unlashes raving tears
That fall across an ebony face
And meet at the chin and drop.
And feel pain.
Like a ton of weight has fallen upon my heart.
This innocent child grows with a love
She can not see or feel.
She drifts like the wind from city to city.
From child-cares to babysitters
And I fear she will never know me.
For how can she, when all day I hold two jobs
Working my fingers to the bone?
And false pride has tied a noose around my neck,
And it's choking me to death.
I keep telling myself I can fight the snow,
And the icy cold that chills my soul
Far better than I can the welfare roll.
But, in reality this is a bitter lie,
For I fear the day that my work is done
And I no longer have to pay
The smiling lady at the child-care
To give my baby love
The love I should have had the time
To give to her myself.
As of now she can not speak.
Too young'for anything but a Mother's arms,
But what if, one day, when she can
She should turn to me
And ask me who am?
by Terry German
Yes the time has come for us to bid farewell for now I've found that the agonies and ecstacies of love which we shared are not as discernible as they once were and beauty seems now more beastly than benign within your soul I found reflections of my foolishness and have grown wiser to the sensual mystique of the ebony animala pawn in the paw of an unmerciful panther whose blackness radiates a madness which is still undefined yet,
we leave each other neither as foes or friends we leave each other knowing that we are creations of one another-the assimilation of emotions and sensations the consummation of flesh with fire and the smoke we made together will rise to heaven and become clouds which shall always be precursors of enchanted memories instead of rain.