The Collected Poetry of Nikki Giovanni (13 page)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah” she said “my man's gone too

been dead longer than you is old”

“what do you do” i asked

“sit here on the porch and talk to the old folk

i rock and talk and go to church most times”

“but aren't you lonely sometimes” i asked

“now you gotta answer yo own question”

“i guess the children help a lot you got grandchildren

haven't you”

“oh the children they come and go always in a hurry

got something to do ain't no time for old folks

like me”

she squinted at the sun packing her jaw

with
bruton
snuff

“the old days done gone…and i say good-bye

peoples be going to the moon and all…ain't that

wonderful…to the moon”

and i said “i see stars all the time aretha franklin

and sly were at madison square garden recently”

“what you doing here” she asked

“i'm a poet” i said

“that ain't no reason to be uppity”

and the sun beat down on my head while

a dragonfly admonished my flippancy

but a blue and yellow butterfly sat on my knee

i looked her square in the eye

“i ain't gonna tell you” she said and turned her head

“ain't gonna tell me what” i asked

“what you asking me you gotta live to be seventy-nine

fore you could understand anyhow”

“now you being uppity” i said

“yeah but i earned it” she replied and shifting her wad

she clapped her hands and smiled

“you been here before”

and i said “yes ma'am but would you tell me just one thing

what did i learn”

and she spat out her juice

“honey if you don't know how can i”

i wanted to argue but the sun was too hot and the sky

too lazy and god heaved a sigh that swept under my blouse

and i felt me feeling a feeling

she crossed her legs at the ankle

and straightened her back

“tell you this” she said

“keep yo dress up and yo pants down and you'll be all right”

and i said impatiently “old lady you got it all wrong”

“honey, ain't never been wrong yet

you better get back to the city cause you one of them

technical niggers and you'll have problems here”

i always wanted to be a bridesmaid

honest to god

i could just see me floating

down that holy aisle leading

some dear friend to heaven

in pink and purple organza with lots and lots

of crinoline pushing the violets out from my dress

hem

or maybe in a more sophisticated endeavor

one of those lovely sky blue slinky numbers

fitting tight around my abounding twenty-eights

holding a single red rose white gloves open in the back

always forever made of nylon and my feet nestled gently

in
chandlers
number 699 which was also the price plus

one dollar to match it pretty near the dress color

wedding rituals have always intrigued me

and i'd swear to friends i wouldn't say goddamn not even

once no matter what neither would i give a power

sign but would even comb my hair severely

back and put that blue shit under my eyes

i swear i wanted to be in a wedding

i see wonder

in little things

like thorn figurines rowing

across my table

or stacia caring

by imposing which being

such a little thing wasn't

a big imposition

and i saw a rainbow

after a very cloudy day

but i looked down to swat

a mosquito and lost

it in the midst

the world is not a pleasant place

to be without

someone to hold and be held by

a river would stop

its flow if only

a stream were there

to receive it

an ocean would never laugh

if clouds weren't there

to kiss her tears

the world is not

a pleasant place to be without

someone

they tell me that i'm beautiful i know

i'm Black and proud

the people ask for autographs

i sometimes draw a crowd

i've written lots of poetry and other

kinds of books

i've heard that white men crumble

from one of my mean looks

i study hard and know my facts

in fact the truth is true

the only song i'm singing now is my song

of you

and i'm asking you baby please

please somehow show me what i need

to know so i can love you right

now

i've had great opportunities to move

the world around

whenever they need love and truth they call

me to their town

the president he called me up and asked

me to come down

but if you think you want me home i think

i'll stick around

and i'm asking you baby please baby baby show me

right now most of the things i need to know

so i can love you somehow