“Was not their mistake once more bred of the life of slavery that they had been living?—a life which was always looking upon everything, except mankind, animate and inanimate—‘nature,’ as people used to call it—as one thing, and mankind as another, it was natural to people thinking in this way, that they should try to make ‘nature’ their slave, since they thought ‘nature’ was something outside them” — William Morris

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Amiri Baraka RIP

Something in the way of things 
Something that will quit and won't start 
Something you know but can't stand 
Can't know get along with 
Like death 
Riding on top of the car peering through the windshield for his cue 
Something entirely fictitious and true 
That creeps across your path hallowing your evil ways 
Like they were yourself passing yourself not smiling

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ahhh. So sad.

This one:
"Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note"

Lately, I've become accustomed to the way
The ground opens up and envelopes me
Each time I go out to walk the dog.
Or the broad edged silly music the wind
Makes when I run for a bus...

Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted,
I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

And then last night I tiptoed up
To my daughter's room and heard her
Talking to someone, and when I opened
The door, there was no one there...
Only she on her knees, peeking into

Her own clasped hands