by Pat Parker
it will be good.
1970s ? m
Poem for Ann #5
Travel it is said
broadens your mind
refines ones senses
You and I traveled
covered the country
& I was afraid.
I feared our closeness
I feared our loneliness
I feared for our love.
Many poets have traveled
Gone the route I went
Know the pressure.
I was advantaged
Possessed more than they
I had you.
Travel it is said
broadens your mind
refines one’s senses.
My mind has been broaden
I see another part of you
Another part for me to love.
June 1975
i must learn
again
to laugh
to sleep with you
Now i can only
watch
you breathe dreams.
1970s ? m
Lady,
rise from my darkness
fresh —
a virgin plum
safe
come open —
come warm to me
come like words —
printed on paper
ordered — spaced
come tangled —
weeds and flowers
come to me blank
& i will hear
i will learn
i will,
myself to you —
to know
to see
to be
myself & you
Lady —
hello.
1970s ? m
well, i got the menstrual blues
chorus:
i got the menstrual blues
my baby’s on her period
won’t let me love her,
till she’s through.
i remember it was many years ago
first time i saw the menstrual flow
ran home to my mama—
say Lordy what’s this
said baby that means that now you’re a young Miss
came out a few years ago
gay life is so good—
won’t ever let it go
loving 2 weeks a month
ain’t so fine
but can’t be helped, unless
her period comes with mine
talked with my friend
said, girl i’m so sad
menstruation periods gonna drive me mad
She said, Fool & slammed down her cup.
What’s wrong with you—
don’t you like to eat ketchup?
now i’m feeling good
in fact, just fine.
me & my baby make love all the time
it don’t matter
time of month,
night or day
I owe all my thanks
to Tampax and Tassaway.
1970s ? m
my baby’s a bass player
fingers me all the time
my baby’s a bass player
fingers me all the time
& when she get down
makes me feel so fine.
she plays her modes, everyday
from A to A makes me say
Jesus honey your hands so kind
Don’t think i’ll last
till you start on your lines
She studies chord changes day & night
practices charts until they’re just right
But what really makes my temperature rise—
is when she gets down on me
and starts to improvise
She plays her notes for hours at a time
the utility bill here is some kind of crime
every time she touches me
i let out a scream
Thank you, Jesus
she don’t play the tambourine
1970s ? m
I fell in love some time ago
with a woman who’s very bright
she teaches school
plays by the rules
comes see me late at night
I can’t help but wonder
when you kiss & hold me tight
Is your closet door a squeaking
as you’re slipping out at night
She says it’s just a short time
Her tenure almost here
No chance to lose her teaching seat
We can walk down the streets
No colleagues to be feared
I can’t help but wonder
when you kiss & hold me tight
Is your closet door a squeaking
as you’re slipping out at night
I’m hoping that the time has come
To set the straight world right
Lies & deception put to end
let the world know we’re more than friends
And we can step into the light
I can’t help but wonder
when you kiss & hold me tight
Is your closet door a squeaking
as you’re slipping out at night
1970s ? m
A Walk
Down this street
the wrong way
bounce off
evening rush faces
Past trees fucking
in the wind
Past people
in the wind
Up this street
to the school
“Hey is that
a boy or a girl
It looks like a boy
but. . .
no boys
no girls
only energy
flashing back
and forth
a joke of
some body
more roles
to confuse
simple-minded
folk
& watch out
even more
for adolescence
myths &
adult
hood
or
head
trips
it is all a trap
beware of mother’s cookies, children
Across this street
now
my toes are tired
27.5 organisms
per city block
It is almost
too much —
walking
1970s ? m
She comes to me — tentative
not sure
the ghost of past love
Dance around my bed
Are you ready now
for me? — she asks
your wounds are wide
& tender to the touch—
Woman — I have crossed
Hell — carrying
rejection and hatred
now — I am thirsty.
Come to me
I want to drink your juices.
1970s ? m
Sister
Is your head on right?
Are you just uptight
Do you really want to fight
Child—is your head on right
1970s ? m
Every once in a while
I think I [am] losing my mind
going mad with madness—
going insane—blowing
my brain—
When I was a child
It seemed simple & plain
There was good & bad
Right and wrong—
Fair & unjust—
I read in the paper
that there’s a
revolution brewing
in a country called Iran
1979 m
Does This Make Sense
I used to think that
logic & reason prevailed—
Fair & just were clear
to see
Right and wrong a given—
&nbs
p; But now—I read the papers—
watch the tube
& come away from both
doughtful and confused—
“Headline”
Families in the East Bay
under attack—
Some erratic drivers
drive a car into a Black
families house—
Burn crosses in their yards—
Throw stones through their windows—
Police investigate
Some of the culprits
are found—
But released—
Juveniles—they say—
Children’s pranks—
no bigotry here—
1970s ? m
At first, I
dismissed the notion
tossed it like highway
litter, not casually
for penalties do exist—
yet old messages
burglarized my
thoughts
“History does repeat itself”
I am appalled—
the jowls of
Richard Milhous
have been replaced
by the specter smile
of Ronald R—
The riots on the east
coast moved further south—
Blacks, again in protest
Another body felled by policeman judges
people without jobs multiply
faster than roaches
Social programs fall like
summer hair beneath
the barber’s shears
I am anger
wait—
I am not Humphrey Bogart
in Casablanca
No—Sam—let’s not
hear it again or do it
it again with Bill Cosby
Let’s not—
But the might makers ignore
me—
We are doing it again
slight alterations in
the scenario—
The “Mod Squad” becomes
the “Renegades,” but we
go on with the same song
I am prophetic—
Hear me—
Last time around
the nation chose to follow
the moderate path—
Marched with Martin
while Malcolm stood
laughing in a corner
at the haste with
which we fled
down the path
Don’t expect the words
of Martin to be heeded
again—It[’s] difficult
to understand them
muffled by dirt and
tombstone
1970s ? m
Just Exactly What Is It That You Want
I’ve heard that—
My mother asked—
When I said no—
I will not be a teacher—
Improve the minds of
southern youth
And buy a house on Sugar Hill—
Just What Exactly Is It
That You Want—
I heard that
My husband asked
when I said No—
I will not be the Black
Bohemian writer’s wife
will not serve burgundy wine
and discuss Richard Wright
Just Exactly What Is It
That You Want—
I heard that
when I said no
I will not be
the liberal white executive’s wife
will not serve martinis
and
take walks in the
Berkeley Hills
Just Exactly What Is It
That You Want
I heard that
when I said no
I will not be the
bed hopping poet
claiming “relationships”
that burn out faster
than ignited gasoline
1970s ? m
Uncollected Poems: 1980s
I have a lover
who is strong—
Does not jump when I holler
Does not take all my words
as edicts from God—
I have a lover
who is loving—
holds me when I am tired—
Rubs me when I am tight with anger—
I have a lover
who understands
Does not think me crazy
when I share my dreams
Does not think me foolish
when I am the fool
I have two daughters
who think of me
not as the poet
not as the businesswoman
only as mama
and that is exactly what I want
“I’m so tired of hearing
about oppression”
Woman at Poetry Reading
Once it was said—
We only need to tell people
Show them the facts—
& they will become a mighty force
hear so common head
& move the madness away
and it seemed so.
Thousands of bodies
took to southern streets
a shield
Rendered fire hoses dry
Defanged the dogs
Turn club into straw
The people were told
The people were shown
They became a mighty force
& turned the south around
Thousands of bodies
took to the country’s streets
A Rage
Bombers stopped flying
Soldiers stopped warring
Hawks were eaten by doves
The people were told
The people were shown
A war passed into history—
This it seems—
Is all that is needed—
Simply let
the people know—
A new species surfaces
They have no ears—
They had no vision—
They watch the actor
in the white house
& believe it’s a movie—
Pay the price of admission—
See the play
then go home—
Yet the play continues—
Poverty still blankets
too many homes
the cast is more colorful
the sexes are shifting
Wars still smolders
The players have changed colors
The curtain will not fall
Oh sister,
my dear sister
safe in Nebraska flatlands
secluded in ivory towers
Think for one minute
If you in this decade
are so tired of
hearing about oppression:
How tired are we
of living in it.
I’m Still Waiting To Be Pinched
Have you ever felt
You were in a dream
& needed to be awaken,
but you were already awake?
For Wayne
FAGGOT!
Not me
gay
homosexual
faggot — no
how does the word
this metaphor become
men
tossed at the feet of witches
ignited
fuel for flames
flames
to destroy the different ones
the men were different too
they walked with women
walked as friends
never lovers
they walked with women
embraced them
supported them
believed in their magic
they died with them
faggot flesh to fuel flames
flames for witches
flames for stron
g women
flames for the different ones
FAGGOT
an honorable word
only suited for men
men who dare
only suited for men
men who stand with their sisters
only suited for men
men who are brave
brave enough
to blast the closet door
brave enough to say
I love this man
and all men
only suited of men
men who face death
the death
that walks the streets of this city
that comes with the faces of babies
that turns flesh to flame
Oh yes my brother —
you are a faggot.
I hear a train a coming
moving down the track
I hear a train a coming
moving down the track
I hear a train a coming
moving down the line
O Lord, let it please
be bringing my baby back
it’s been a long time
since she went away
it’s been a long time
since she said good-bye
It’s been a long time
since she walked out the door
Lord, I can’t take
this loneliness any more
It’s been a long time
since we had that fight
It’s been a long time
since she cried all night
It’s been a long time
since those angry words were said
I can’t stand no more
