Reginald S. Lewis
#AY2902
175 Progress Drive
Waynesburg, Pennsylvania 153701-8089
From:
INSIDE MY HEAD
A New Collection of Poems at:
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WHEN YOU'RE HERE
If you could sleep sleep sleep
And escape into dreams-
Running running from a cold reality
You're terrified of facing.
If you could gulp down some
Strong jail house wine-
Ingest good dope smuggled inside balloons-
Go straight out.
Or jump into a bulletproof
Gorilla suit. Call on multiple personalities.
The pensive ones pray for forgiveness.
Even the guilty send grievances to
God, asking to be set free.
© Copyright 2002 Reginald S Lewis
PROFILING
On the
Ananda Lewis Show
They mourned the victims from
September 11, 2001-the year of
Our Lord, and the Sikh who got shot,
The mosque burned down in Tennessee,
The death threats,
The Muslim women and children ,
Afraid to venture into American
Flag-covered streets-
The law-abiding Arabs or darker
Hues ejected from airplanes, deported,
Arrested, interrogated, detained,
Slapped and cursed and spat on-like Jesus.
Weeks earlier, an all-Black cast
Of witnesses decried racism, "Driving-
While-Black" at congressional hearings
On Capitol Hill.
Weeks later, they took a poll:
AFRICAN-AMERICANS SAY THEY
SUPPORT RACIAL PROFILING IN THE
NAME OF NATIONAL SECURITY-
As if the books are closed on names
Like Emmitt Till, James Byrd,
Rodney King, Yusef Hawkins, Abner Louima,
Amadou Diallo and Patrice Lumumba.
© Copyright 2002 Reginald S Lewis
THE MIDNIGHT TRAVELER
Sometimes it makes you wonder what he is doing in a
Dreary place like this.
Drifting from door to door, tier to tier, mingling,
He makes sharp U-turns, goes straight-
A strange smooth glide along the dark seedy corridors
Of Death Row.
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He moves past tough guys and sinners
Drinking jailhouse wine.
He clamps shackles around the wrist of the abused,
Tormented young inmate contemplating suicide.
And during one private visit,
His spirit strengthens Jo-Jo's faith,
Calms him down, because
Three hours away from his scheduled execution-
He reminds him of a dark, wooly-headed Jesus,
Eating his last meal.
'Round midnight the screams grow louder in this
Concrete hell. With all the chaos inside-
You'll need prayer and angels to carry you
Through the madness.
© Copyright 2002 Reginald S Lewis
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COME BACK JOHNNY
The pimp hissed that his Mother was a dirty White trash ho'-
then he blew her brains out.
They found little Johnny sitting on her lap.
When they sent him to live with his aunt-he didn't know he was
half-black until she called him a NIGGA.
Far, far out he strayed
too soon from cardboard nests. Searching for his place-
anywhere. An exotic bird who never learned to fly.
Mrs. Hatfield picked him up on Bourbon Street one night.
Sucked the juice of innocence dry. Then dumped him at the
side of the road.
Rich businessmen in expensive suits kept telling him
how much they loved him-but Johnny wouldn't go that way.
He seemed older than vintage wine.
The cocaine they gave him still couldn't ease the pain.
When they cut him down-
they said the long red sash he used to hang himself-
belonged to his Mother.
© Copyright 2002 Reginald S Lewis
DINNER WITH WHITE LIBERALS
I can see you when you step out-
Red lips blazing, a dazzling sequin gown,
Indigo ink tresses as long
As a black stallion's mane.
At an elegant dinner party a former.
Poet Laureate asked what
You were reading-
You mentioned my book, our correspondence,
How you were using my experiences
To teach the at risk youth-
And the table fell silent.
You could literally see the
Sphincter bands draw up.
White women grabbed their napkins.
The men turned their backs,
Started different conversations-
Your husband dabbed at the
Shrewd comers of his tight mouth,
And glared at you. Oh, Darling. ..
When you mention me you frighten polite
White liberals.
Our secrets are sacred.
It's safer to keep me inside your head.
© Copyright 2002 Reginald S Lewis