the dead visit often/i no longer fear them/some i know at once/even if i never knew them
/others introduce themselves/
they bring things/
riddles/secrets/dreams of fire/memories/instructions/prophecy & the keys/they warn/they rail & rant at the bedside/they wander through the house/some speak chattily/others are silent/i hear & understand them all/some are relatives/sometimes they are other peoples relatives/others are heroes dead & gone/they are all warriors/ once of fire burning bright/now waiting to rise/we drink and think upon them/
’til they rise again/
geronimo came last night/he was alone
/sometimes he is with cochise/cochise tells
tales of mangas coloradas/long may his spirit live/fallen warrior/
we drink and think
upon them/’til they rise again/perhaps mangas himself will come one day/
/once free as wind/now riding on it/dust in
dreams/speaking to the listening/
last night
geronimo was sitting by the bedroom window/
often he does not speak/there is
little need/it seems i know/what he know/& he know/what i know/
sometimes we watch the fig tree/as according to the season/ it dresses or undresses/it is
undressing/he sat
& watched it
in its bareness/it unmoving in a silvery silent rain/neath
a waning
moon/
i rose to sit beside him/no need to speak/he know what i know/we both know/no good comes of wolves at the wheel/i know what he know/blood on the path/blood on the moon/blood on closed doors/blood at the foundation/to undo it may take more/
we know blood/
he told me his true name/geronimo is a prayer name/they were praying when they named him after the saint/jeromio/
to no avail/saint jerome did not answer/
Goyaałé spoke for him/
we know blood/
mixed in times of war/we know blood/growing in resistance together/we know blood/
we watch
the tree/seasons change/blood and struggle remain/
/we are instructed by the dust/
we watch the tree/day rises/we both dreamed of zulus
samurais
sharp shooters
& dervishes
/the night before/
a gathering/& sounds of war/
we have heard the howl of crazy horse/in a not so distant distance/
we have talked for hours without words/we agree john bown was a good white man/
we are uncertain about the existence of others/we are uncertain about existence
we wait visits from nat & harriet with news of marcus/marley came once/we were too
gloomy for him/he helped us sharpen arrows and departed/
we watch the tree/wanting to know what it know/waiting for instructions from the dust/
/blood & struggle remain
Sounds like Academy of da Corner is at your bedside. I like this, it’s in the tradition!
Like Susan Taylor said at the Merriott, it came a time when she could no longer read
trauma stories at Essence. I don’t know how long we can do this until we go stark raving mad, in the words of Baldwin.
Love, m