Old Poetry… Part I

With the coming of Langston Hughes, on February 1, 2002 (on the 100th anniversary of his birth) as the latest addition to the United States Postal Service’s Black History Stamp I thought that it would be a good time for me to start writing again. It’s high time that I added something to your daily cultural experience and prove to all of the doubters that the Harlem Renaissance is still going on. (Why do I think that: 1. I said so. 2. I live here.) Do I need to mention that Langston Hughes is an Aquarius and one of my favorite poets? Do I need to mention that he is the fourth (and second in a row) man of perseverance, scholarship and uplift to be honored by the US Postal Service?

In the commemorative spirit of the stamp I have decided to release some of my previously examined work*. Some of these works were written when I was on the high seas fighting for my life with the United States Coast Guard, while trying to serve the country. Remember that as a tough critic, that I also love tough criticism.  Be encouraging yet firm if any of these poems in my Black Awareness series rub you the wrong way…

Doubtful  (13 FEB 2000) 

When if it rains it pours

When if it pours you drown.

If no one will save you

From toppling down,

There is a little-known secret

Dead men never repeat:

Our enemies can take our spirit

even our souls, with defeat.

So now you have been warned

and told a moral in this rhyme,

Your best might not be good enough

Every single time.


Soul Resolution (19 FEB 2000)

It takes discipline to win against these crackers,

slave traders, mind raiders, and Soul-jackers.

Because they fear it, they want your spirit;

Them people hackers.

If they crack your code then their abode gets a little blacker.


Chose One (24 FEB 2000)

There are two courses of action that the New Negro can take:

One is a martyr pioneer, the other seeks only a fair shake.

The X’s and Kings before me have done their parts and died,

for this reason I studied their seasons, read their lessons and I cried.

Their sacrifices were paramount to the advancement of our race,

but that is not the life for me, “longevity has it’s place.”

I want to be the there when we get there, see the summit for myself.

My father had dreams deferred, my mothers hope is on the shelf.

I want my slice of pie, ala mode, and fountain pop!

Why did our great ones die just to glimpse the mountain top?

*All original works copyrighted © for DICOOPER (Lord Judger Barrelman) for the entire WMIBAS?TM Crew.


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