Salsa Sailed on Slave Ships
“they assemble together in alarming crowds for the purposes of dancing…” -Alexander Hewitt
stench
suffocating
side/by/side
samba
santeria
spirits
strapped
soul
shackles
swaying/praying
inside
stifling
soiled
spaces
dark
faces
dancing
to sorrow
songs
that
scream/shout
out
sanctified
sounds
down
these
scarred
survival
streets
that
still
swing
Defacimento
“My fear was not of death itself, but a death without meaning” – Huey Newton
It could’ve been me1
or maybe you?…
as long as you is Black
and wearing the mask
that screams and shouts
for justice/ just-us!
face-less/form-less
name-less/fame-less
defaced/eraced
devoid of shape/semblance
a color-less smudge/smear
thrown up
against a wall
by pink-faced
public offenders
beat cops in blue
brandishing badges
and black jacks
before one more
beat down/choked
out of focus
beheaded for a fall
down a flight of stairs
in some anonymous
subway stations
of the cross colors
bleeding into blood
read the news today,
another Blackboy
burned at the stakes
is high when brutality
is our reality –
and most young kings
get their heads cut off
cuz Black magic/markers
still matter…
Home Again
“Only the dead have seen the end of the war” – George Santayana
Just another mourning for one more dead
funeral parlors are our new home
this martyr died from a shot to the head
the Priest welcomed us to the terrordome
mop up the blood sop up the brain tissue
coddle the body to seem like you care
was the bullet a government issue
a tissue I miss you a final prayer
suicides homicides or God knows why
police and gangsters or soldiers at war
death and still dying or those soon to die
centuries enemies settling scores
place the Stars and stripes over the casket
toss the eulogy in the wastebasket
Stolen Slanguage
“we were robbed of our name, robbed of our language” – Dr Khalid Abdul Muhammad
They stole our word
took away our language
stripped us of our speech
dismembered our dialect
knocked out our teeth
tore apart our tongue
so we hid rusted razor
blades inside our mouth
and spit out sharpened
poetry
- Artist, Jean-Michel Basquiat’s words upon learning of the death of Michael Stewart ↩︎
Prophet was born in Puerto Rico and raised in Harlem/Bronx, NYC. He has released several independent music records, written four award winning plays (as Alano P. Baez), co-wrote a feature film, and published one book of poetry. He is a teaching artist/sharer of knowledge and an activist/agitator for Puerto Rican independence.
The Marbled Sigh 