The Collected Poetry of Nikki Giovanni Page 10

  allah told us all

  we need to know when he called

  mankind hueman beings just because

  they dropped the “e” the concept remains

  colored cause we recognize

  if we add “s” to hisstory why we ain’t

  a part of it or put “n” back in

  democracy and you’ll understand

  the present system war

  is raw any way you look

  at it even with a spanish touch

  and god is a dog

  when the romans started counting

  they started with one and went to x

  an unknown mathematically speaking

  so we know they couldn’t deal

  with twelve zodiac signs

  aquarius died when

  they buried atlantis this

  is the age of pisces

  check it out

  Ego Tripping

  (there may be a reason why)

  I was born in the congo

  I walked to the fertile crescent and built

  the sphinx

  I designed a pyramid so tough that a star

  that only glows every one hundred years falls

  into the center giving divine perfect light

  I am bad

  I sat on the throne

  drinking nectar with allah

  I got hot and sent an ice age to europe

  to cool my thirst

  My oldest daughter is nefertiti

  the tears from my birth pains

  created the nile

  I am a beautiful woman

  I gazed on the forest and burned

  out the sahara desert

  with a packet of goat’s meat

  and a change of clothes

  I crossed it in two hours

  I am a gazelle so swift

  so swift you can’t catch me

  For a birthday present when he was three

  I gave my son hannibal an elephant

  He gave me rome for mother’s day

  My strength flows ever on

  My son noah built new/ark and

  I stood proudly at the helm

  as we sailed on a soft summer day

  I turned myself into myself and was

  jesus

  men intone my loving name

  All praises All praises

  I am the one who would save

  I sowed diamonds in my back yard

  My bowels deliver uranium

  the filings from my fingernails are

  semi-precious jewels

  On a trip north

  I caught a cold and blew

  My nose giving oil to the arab world

  I am so hip even my errors are correct

  I sailed west to reach east and had to round off

  the earth as I went

  The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid

  across three continents

  I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal

  I cannot be comprehended

  except by my permission

  I mean…I…can fly

  like a bird in the sky…

  A Poem/Because It Came As A Surprise To Me

  homosexuality

  (an invention of saul

  as played to perfection by the pope)

  is two people

  of similar sex DOING IT

  that’s all

  Oppression

  i wish i could have been oppressed

  by straightened hair

  then i wouldn’t have had no problems

  till after emancipation when mme. walker

  captured our kinks

  i think it would have been hip to be oppressed

  by greek letter organizations from APA to GDI

  then the very earliest i would have had problems

  was with the founding of howard university

  or really i could dig oppression by the pig

  greasy though he is he always fed me

  or yeah let me bring it on down oppression

  by diana ross leaving the supremes would be choice

  then i wouldn’t have had no problems at all till the mafia

  took over motown

  and my number one choice i swear would be neo-colonialism

  by bell bottom pants cause we all recognize how they have

  kept us in bondage for the last four hundred years

  i mean i could really dig being oppressed by Black men

  cause that would mean at least someone i love

  is in power

  what i’m gonna say one more time is i’m

  oppressed by crackers

  and that’s what i’ve gotta deal

  with

  Toy Poem

  if they put you in a jack-in-the-box poet

  would you pop up poeming a positive poem on

  positive Blackness

  would you poet a loving rawls poem and a real

  st. jacques poem before they put them in a box

  could you poet beyond the greek symbol into

  the need for fraternity

  if they put you in a wind up toy would you spin out liberated

  woman

  would you spin out a feminist or feminine

  women have a different reality from men

  would you spin into the arms of a Black man

  or the clutch of white women

  could you spin into an orphan home and liberate

  a Black baby

  if they took our insides out would we be still

  Black people or would we become play toys

  for master players

  there’s a reason we lose a lot it’s not our game

  and we don’t know how to score

  listen here

  i wanna take you higher

  Some Uses For Them Not Stated

  the white man sent me

  the EVERYTHING card

  so i called the jew

  to buy my house

  he said: is you colored

  i says: yeah! i wanna

  charge my house

  he said: you give me a charge

  and we’ll work it out

  burned EVERYTHING up

  the mailman brought me

  the bankamericard to guarantee

  my checks

  checked myself and sent it

  back

  then on a weak day they sent

  the UNICard and i really needed

  something

  so i worked my juju

  and turned it

  into a man

  Poem For Flora

  when she was little

  and colored and ugly with short

  straightened hair

  and a very pretty smile

  she went to sunday school to hear

  ’bout nebuchadnezzar the king

  of the jews

  and she would listen

  shadrach, meshach and abednego in the fire

  and she would learn

  how god was neither north

  nor south east or west

  with no color but all

  she remembered was that

  Sheba was Black and comely

  and she would think

  i want to be

  like that

  Sometimes

  sometimes

  when i wake up

  in the morning

  and see all the faces

  i just can’t

  breathe

  Poem For My Nephew

  (Brother C. B. Soul)

  i wish i were

  a shadow

  oh wow! when they put

  the light on

  me i’d grow

  longer and taller and BLACKER

  Yeah…But…

  i don’t want you to think

  that i don’t know the pain

  when you say sister diana don’t sing

  like she used to

  cause i heard d
ionne making way for just like me

  and i remembered the expectation

  and the little surprises her albums

  used to bring

  the little love notes that told someone

  what i felt and the ultimate surprise

  when she didn’t sing for me and my love

  no more and the pain was deep

  cause the pleasure had been so complete

  and i can dig when you say sing

  like you used to but maybe we can

  remember

  we don’t poet like that

  no more either

  Poem For A Lady Whose Voice I Like

  so he said: you ain’t got no talent

  if you didn’t have a face

  you wouldn’t be nobody

  and she said: god created heaven and earth

  and all that’s Black within them

  so he said: you ain’t really no hot shit

  they tell me plenty sisters

  take care better business than you

  and she said: on the third day he made chitterlings

  and all good things to eat

  and said: “that’s good”

  so he said: if the white folks hadn’t been under

  yo skirt and been giving you the big play

  you’d a had to come on uptown like everybody else

  and she replied: then he took a big Black greasy rib

  from adam and said we will call this woeman and her

  name will be sapphire and she will divide into four parts

  that simone may sing a song

  and he said: you pretty full of yourself ain’t chu

  so she replied: show me someone not full of herself

  and i’ll show you a hungry person

  How Do You Write A Poem?

  how do you write a poem

  about someone so close

  to you that when you say ahhhhh

  they say chuuuu

  what can they ask you to put

  on paper that isn’t already written

  on your face

  and does the paper make it

  any more real

  that without them

  life would be not

  impossible but certainly

  more difficult

  and why would someone need

  a poem to say when i come

  home if you’re not there

  i search the air

  for your scent

  would i search any less

  if i told the world

  i don’t care at all

  and love is so complete

  that touch or not we blend

  to each other the things

  that matter aren’t all about

  baaaanging (i can be baaaanged all

  day long) but finding a spot

  where i can be free

  of all the physical

  and emotional bullshit

  and simply sit with a cup

  of coffee and say to you

  “i’m tired” don’t you know

  those are my love words

  and say to you “how was your

  day” doesn’t that show

  i care or say to you “we lost

  a friend” and not want to share

  that loss with strangers

  don’t you already know

  what i feel and if

  you don’t maybe

  i should check my feelings

  And Sometimes I Sit

  and sometimes i sit

  down at my typewriter

  and i think

  not of someone

  cause there isn’t anyone

  to think

  about and i wonder

  is it worth it

  I Want To Sing

  i want to sing

  a piercing note

  lazily throwing my legs

  across the moon

  my voice carrying all the way

  over to your pillow

  i want you

  i need i swear to loll

  about the sun

  and have it smelt me

  the ionisphere carrying

  my ashes all

  the way over

  to your pillow

  i want you

  Ever Want To Crawl

  ever want to crawl

  in someone’s arms

  white out the world

  in someone’s arms

  and feel the world

  of someone’s arms

  it’s so hot in hell

  if i don’t sweat

  i’ll melt

  My House

  1972

  Legacies

  her grandmother called her from the playground

  “yes, ma’am”

  “i want chu to learn how to make rolls” said the old

  woman proudly

  but the little girl didn’t want

  to learn how because she knew

  even if she couldn’t say it that

  that would mean when the old one died she would be less

  dependent on her spirit so

  she said

  “i don’t want to know how to make no rolls”

  with her lips poked out

  and the old woman wiped her hands on

  her apron saying “lord

  these children”

  and neither of them ever

  said what they meant

  and i guess nobody ever does

  Mothers

  the last time i was home

  to see my mother we kissed

  exchanged pleasantries

  and unpleasantries pulled a warm

  comforting silence around

  us and read separate books

  i remember the first time

  i consciously saw her

  we were living in a three room

  apartment on burns avenue

  mommy always sat in the dark

  i don’t know how i knew that but she did

  that night i stumbled into the kitchen

  maybe because i’ve always been

  a night person or perhaps because i had wet

  the bed

  she was sitting on a chair

  the room was bathed in moonlight diffused through

  those thousands of panes landlords who rented

  to people with children were prone to put in windows

  she may have been smoking but maybe not

  her hair was three-quarters her height

  which made me a strong believer in the samson myth

  and very black

  i’m sure i just hung there by the door

  i remember thinking: what a beautiful lady

  she was very deliberately waiting

  perhaps for my father to come home

  from his night job or maybe for a dream

  that had promised to come by

  “come here” she said “i’ll teach you

  a poem: i see the moon

  the moon sees me

  god bless the moon

  and god bless me”

  i taught it to my son

  who recited it for her

  just to say we must learn

  to bear the pleasures

  as we have borne the pains

  A Poem for Carol

  (May She Always Wear Red Ribbons)

  when i was very little

  though it’s still true today

  there were no sidewalks in lincoln heights

  and the home we had on jackson street

  was right next to a bus stop and a sewer

  which didn’t really ever become offensive

  but one day from the sewer a little kitten

  with one eye gone

  came crawling out

  though she never really came into our yard but just

  sort of hung by to watch the folk

  my sister who was always softhearted but able

  to act effectively started
taking milk

  out to her while our father would only say

  don’t bring him home and everyday

  after school i would rush home to see if she was still

  there and if gary had fed her but i could never

  bring myself to go near her

  she was so loving

  and so hurt and so singularly beautiful and i knew

  i had nothing to give that would

  replace her one gone eye

  and if i had named her which i didn’t i’m sure

  i would have called her carol

  A Fishy Poem

  i have nine guppies

  there were ten but the mother died shortly

  after the birth

  the father runs up and down the aquarium

  looking

  at first i thought i wasn’t feeding

  them enough

  so i increased and increased

  until the aquarium was very very dirty

  then i realized he was just a guppie

  whose father was a goldfish

  and he was only following

  his nature

  Winter Poem

  once a snowflake fell

  on my brow and i loved

  it so much and i kissed

  it and it was happy and called its cousins

  and brothers and a web

  of snow engulfed me then

  i reached to love them all

  and i squeezed them and they became

  a spring rain and i stood perfectly

  still and was a flower