by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner
This week's offering from BAR's poet in residence was also published this week at Dissident Voice.
Poem For Zigi
by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner
“…the greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return…”
‘Nature Boy’ by Eden Ahbez
Jet black gondola
2017-07-05 11:54:34 -0400glides across the resting lake
to Bata drumming dock,
African ritual;
Double rainbow of
Family and friends,
Connect like braided bread,
Waiting to share coconut,
white chocolate, lemon zest treat—
Our seven hour chat
“covering everything
from Ellington to
Engels…” earned Us…
Steamed tears stream on
Bent notes of
“The Nearness of You”
Blue glass explodes beneath
my white shoe;
Rich in Bandmates,
“…the greatest thing you’ll ever learn
Is just to love and be loved in return…”
‘Nature Boy’ by Eden Ahbez
Jet black gondola
glides across the resting lake
to Bata drumming dock,
African ritual;
Double rainbow of
Family and friends,
Connect like braided bread,
Waiting to share coconut,
white chocolate, lemon zest treat—
Our seven hour chat
“covering everything
from Ellington to
Engels…” earned Us…
Steamed tears stream on
Bent notes of
“The Nearness of You”
Blue glass explodes beneath
my white shoe;
Rich in Bandmates,
Best Man Son, Daughter,
Sistars; Ancestors bear
bouquets emblazoned,
“Mazel Tov!”
and crowd gold chuppah—
more beautiful than perfect
Reaching into Van Gogh
skies—plucking the
left-handed, curly-topped
Angel I’d asked for,
For a trek across
the heavens; After
decades daydreaming,
decades longing
for my Soulmate—a
Brother caught a break—
Flourishing in her
Galaxy of Love
’Twas Fathers Day too—
Papi growled, per usual,
“Take care of each other…”
Champagne whispering—
“Don’t fuck it up,”
Shooing us off to Tour Eiffel…
Best Man Son, Daughter,
Sistars; Ancestors bear
bouquets emblazoned,
“Mazel Tov!”
and crowd gold chuppah—
more beautiful than perfect
Reaching into Van Gogh
skies—plucking the
left-handed, curly-topped
Angel I’d asked for,
For a trek across
the heavens; After
decades daydreaming,
decades longing
for my Soulmate—a
Brother caught a break—
Flourishing in her
Galaxy of Love
’Twas Fathers Day too—
Papi growled, per usual,
“Take care of each other…”
Champagne whispering—
“Don’t fuck it up,”
Shooing us off to Tour Eiffel…
When the dust settles, as in all U.S. disasters, there will be a tale to tell of who mattered and who was sacrificed.
Colonized people, with a horrific historical connection to both science and medicine in this country, must examine science in service of the state.
The penal system remains a source of diseases that spread among prisoners at rates far exceeding those in the communities from which they came.
The necessary political demand is not that we make better, more humane prisons and jails, but that we abolish prisons and jails altogether.
This is a book about the ideological construction of black women as “non-human” and exploitable for capitalist profit in the making of the New South.
