LeRoi Jones
I saw him
When he was
An old man
Like me.
He was a cold man
I read his poems
Again. When he was a
Young man. He was
A cold young man.
The coldness ran
in his blood. Amiri
Baraka The coldness
Of crumpled newspapers
Blowing down the streets
Where the wind
Comes from…comes from…comes
From.
The edge
See the silver
In the corner of his eye
Grow as
He calmly raises his voice
From base line
To scream
At the end of…
Who was he
Saying it to?
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 12/04/2022 04:34PM by petersz.
A good read, Peter, any significance to the letters?
Les
L....J....=LeRoi Jones when he was young and A....B....=Amiri Baraka when he was older. On eo f my favorite poets, author of 'The Dead Lecture,' a very fine piece of writing.
Thanks for checking in, Les.
Peter
Powerful piece Peter. I really like it.
You often lead us to some great places and new things. I appreciate that. I would probably never have seen a poem by Amiri Baraka were it not for you. And that would have been tragic.
Your poetry always touches me. But this poem seems more deeply personal for you than others -- I sense a meaning in it that only you can know. Or am I just reading it that way?
Steve
Amari Baraka's intensity and his mastery of the language in his poems...everything counts...have been a touchstone for my writing since 1963. so it wouldn't surprise me if there were dimensions of significance here that even I was not aware of. Also, even when he seemed wrong-headed [antisemitism rhetoric turns me off] to me from time to time, he is a courageous man.
Peter