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Poetry from Cold Sweat

Beautiful Aesthetic

 

we wear festival

bronze freedom pieces

adorn wrist and shine

with the sun beautifully

created with hand and imagination

appreciated like

silk screen t-shirts

that paraphrase books

in witty affirmations 

of black love and pride

in stride with the 

beat drum kick when

the piano breaks 

for a bass solo

from the mainstage

walking through the marketplace

frankincense and curry

in the air swings a jazz

colorfully spirited 

blended with traces 

from the motherland

and caribbean

down south and made its 

way to summertime in Chicago

Power in the Name

 

what's the difference between

collective thought and group think

 

what is it really to call Jesus

put that word and our breath

afloat into wavelengths

into the atmosphere sparing atoms 

to carry the message

 

put all our energy into this thing

energizes what machine

bonding our connection

 

what's the mathematics

calling Jesus when it hurts

in ones and zeros

 

what comes back 

after the push 

((( Jesus )))

the sound and feel of each

syllable off tongue and lips

 

this word named

worthy and thrown 

in sentence or phrase

 

what energy do we invoke

as we speak auroras 

in prayers song and dance

worshipping like praise

 

how powerful a ritual 

is that word name image brand

revolving the calendar and globe

 

make me forget my ancestor's saviors

that they have names too

deserving and wanting praise due

 

Routine

 

love breaking 

send you on a 

binge

 

need a song

a pen

a cigarette

to get through 

 

the emotive confusion

disappointment

reality against the odds of intentions

questioning how love could equal this

 

us swimming in different directions 

pacing to some destination 

opposite the one we envisioned

 

to it over and done with

is the hardest thing

when i miss missing you - 

 

specific to what happened

and created between us

personal as the only one who understands

purposeful as exactly what was needed

 

digging through crates

searching for the right ball point

chain smoking and 

covered in sadness

trying to get over 

 

you

Kinda Weird Like...

Cold Sweat art by camil.williams

Cold Sweat

It's not just the AK47 armed policemen

or the armored tanks rolling down 79th street

 

not the helicopters circling

the neighborhood every night

 

more than the imagery

and frequency

 

not even the numbing sensation

of hearing the sirens so frequently

 

this is much more than section 8 and link cards

 

It's strange like...

 

an empty playground on a summer afternoon

 

or more blacks in prison than were enslaved

 

kinda weird like

 

a child needing a gun

 

Door of No Return

Door of No Return art by camil.williams

 

Door of No Return

 

she stands there

7x4 doorway

brick and bone

lining the shore

 

she's crying

video camera sagging

overwhelmed with emotions

reliving the abduction

 

the diaspora

floods back to her

tugging at her

screaming for her

rushing toward her

moving through her

around about her

 

she hyper-ventilates

forced to contemplate

and over-compensate

 

different pathways

to the same place

between the hard rock 

and soft place

 

criminal theft or saving grace

supreme cruelty or fate

 

a blessed curse

between the hard rock 

and the soft space

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