“i’m only human, & inadequacy is what makes us human, & if we was perfect we wdnt have nothin to strive for, so you might as well go on & forgive me pretty baby, cause i’m sorry”
“one thing I don’t need
is any more apologies
i got sorry greetin me at my front door
you can keep yrs
i don’t know what to do wit em
they don’t open doors
or bring the sun back
they don’t make me happy
or get a mornin paper
didn’t nobody stop usin my tears to wash cars
cuz a sorry.”
“i usedta live in the world
really be in the world
free & sweet talkin
good mornin & thank-you & nice day
uh huh
i cant now
i cant be nice to nobody
nice is such a rip-off
regular beauty & a smile in the street
is just a set-up”
“i loved you on purpose
i was open on purpose
i still crave vulnerability & close talk
& i’m not even sorry bout you bein sorry
you can carry all the guilt & grime ya wanna
just dont give it to me
i cant use another sorry
next time
you should admit
you’re mean/ low-down/ triflin/ & no count straight out
steada bein sorry alla the time
enjoy bein yrself”
“Ever since I realized there waz someone callt/
a colored girl an evil woman a bitch or a nag/
i been tryin not to be that & leave bitterness/
in somebody else’s cup...”
“somebody almost walked off wid alla my stuff
not my poems or a dance i gave up in the street
but somenody almost walked off wid alla my stuff
like a kleptomaniac workin hard and forgettin while stealin
this is mine
this aint yr stuff
now why dont you put me back and let me hang out in my own self...”
“its been so many years and
there
he was at the concert and he looked the same way he’s always looked
and then he looked at me the same way he’s always looked
and then his arm was around me
and we walked the same way
we’s always walked
and i fell into his arms
and we fell into the bed.”
“but bein alive & bein a woman & bein colored is a metaphysical
dilemma/ i havent conquered yet/ do you see the point
my spirit is too ancient to understand the separation of soul & gender/ my love is too delicate to have thrown back on my face
my love is too delicate to have thrown back on my face
my love is too beautiful to have thrown back on my face
my love is too sanctified to have thrown back on my face
my love is too magic to have thrown back on my face
my love is too saturday nite to have thrown back on my face
my love is too complicated to have thrown back on my face
my love is too music to have thrown back on my face”
″...don’t tell nobody don’t tell a soul
are we animals? have we gone crazy?
i can’t hear anythin but maddening screams
and the soft strains of death
and promised me
you promised me...
somebody/anybody
sing a black girl’s song
bring her out
to know herself
to know you
but sing her rhythms
carin/ struggle/ hard times
sing her song of life
she’s been dead so long
closed in silence so long
she doesn’t know the sound
of her own voice
her infinite beauty
she’s half-notes scattered
without rhythm/ no tune
sing her sighs
sing the songs of her possibilities
sing a righteous gospel
let her be born
and handled warmly.”
“without any assistance or guidance from you
i have loved you assiduously for 8 months 2 wks & a day
i have been stood up four times
i’ve left 7 packages on yr doorstep
forty poems 2 plants & 3 handmade notecards i left
town so i cd send to you have been no help to me
on my job
you call at 3:00 in the mornin on weekdays
so i cd drive 27 1/2 miles cross the bay before i go to work
charmin charmin
but you are of no assistance
i want you to know
this waz an experiment
to see how selifsh i cd be
if i wd really carry on to snare a possible lover
if i waz capable of debasin my self for the love of another
if i cd stand not being wanted
when i wanted to be wanted
& i cannot
so
with no further assistance & no guidance from you
i am endin this affair
this note is attached to a plant
i’ve been waterin since the day i met you
you may water it
yr damn self”
“somebody/ anybody
sing a black girl’s song
bring her out
to know herself
to know you
but sing her rhythms
carin/ struggle/ hard times
sing her song of life
she’s been dead so long
closed in silence so long
she doesn’t know the sound
of her own voice
her infinite beauty
she’s half-notes scattered
without rhythm/ no tune
sing her sighs
sing the song of her possibilities
sing a righteous gospel
let her be born
let her be born
& handled warmly.”
“The stage is in darkness. Harsh music is heard as dim blue lights come up. One after another, seven women run onto the stage from each of the exits. They all freeze in postures of distress. The follow spot picks up the lady in brown. She comes to life and looks around at the other ladies. All of the others are still. She walks over to the lady in red and calls to her. They lady in red makes no response.”
“i am really colored & really sad sometimes & you hurt me
more than i ever danced outta/ i am ready to die like a lily in the
desert/ & i cdnt let you in on it cuz i didnt know/ here
is what i have/ poems/ big thighs/ lil tits/ &
so much love/ will you take it from me this one time/
please this is for you”
“Dark phrases of womanhood of never havin been a girl half-notes scattered without rhythm/no tune distraught laughter fallin over a black girl’s shoulder it’s funny/it’s hysterical the melody-lesslness of her dance don’t tell nobody don’t tell a soul she’s a dancin on beer cans and shingles
this must be the spook house another song with no singers lyrics/ no voices and interrupted solos unseen performances
are we ghouls? children of horror? the joke?...”
″...somebody almost walke off wid alla my stuff
and didnt care enuf to send a not home sayin
i waz late fo my solo conversation
or two sizes too small for my own tacky skirts
what can anybody do wit somethin of no value on
a open market
did you getta dime for my things
hey man
where are you goin wid alla my stuff
this is a woman’s trip and i need my stuff
to ohh and ahh abt
daddy
i gotta mainline nmber
from my own shit
now wontchu put me back
and let me play this duet
wit this silver ring in my nose...”