Works Presented

go in to that night charles		we hold hands in the broad daylight
downtown		last night
i waz young in 83		james the dreamer
the kiss

Note: (000, YYMMDD) = the approximate Yahoo Message Board entry number and date.
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i am not a brotha who will 4get yo name or define yo charge before u speak in u i see myself coming throught that door from the darkness where trouble honed & fine waits at the corner like a fire in the strung out city's early am's out there where the streets r lined with frail brothas like weeds against the chainlinked fences of an addicted memory who await the death & the deeper night yes in r mahogany hands half opened in a desperate understanding there is no discrepancy az 2 who we r

& here u r still with the wildness exclaiming its charter in yo alert eyes u look out the window yo clothes an obstacle at the speed of your expostolating urgency who's coming, charles? who wants u? what did u do? iz the asphalt angry consuming the midnight men & producing beautiful black pavement? 2night r the half men wantonly killing brothas? iz whatever it iz such beautiful death that u recognized it from a dream? waz it fantastic & ultimately terrible? waz it southern & az deliberate az time which iz meticulous its precision an assassin a surreal murder in the morning mundaness?

charles out there brotha's hands r on fire they ignite the city everything the touch a lover or a stranger burns they carry anger the television of their eyes out of tune & blinking their straining mouths open in inarticulate static something iz killing them slowly they r winding down each morning 1 of their bodies is found & the staring still gray glass eyes reflect the world & the metaphors run the abandoned lot screaming truth but oh, the collage of a city immuned 2 nameless death the twisted faces in a madness so pervasive that it iz wisdom in a deafness so heavy that clocks seem to float in a placid clear numbness where speech iz gutteral & irrelevant something iz killing brothas & the people go about their business like machines that process boxes after a holocaust like eating in the wake of murder like casual conversation in the human ovens & u charles here like a discarded knife with the hot memory of some nigga's belly have come 2 my door from the night the child in u asking to be hid from brutal men from men who kill out of habit from men who kill az a solution 2 their discomfort from men who r automatic & not angry from men who r calling yo name through cold shadows in cold terms with out of tune television eyes that turn channel after channel in the red starless night & u r 1 of them charles lacking plausable language in the vast & irredeemable collective of thieves & becuz u r a thief & a hustler who traded artistic brilliance & honor 4 the stuttering terror of an endless ghetto becuz out there u r corrupt & impetuous becuz u charles r the killer of the common women's sons becuz this resolute clamoring death 2night iz yo birthright u must leave my house i say u must leave my house

Romus © Copyright, 1999

we hold hands in the broad daylight we laugh so easily the short trees r in ecstasy r beautiful selves in an afternoon so tall & clean that clarity seems 2 run ahead & gather blues feathering them around the golden hill's ears we r in the white light this iz a dream like recreating morning in languages so accurate that foriegners qualify their curried memories & close their eyes 2 see the sun & we r beautiful gathering even ground & standing in the quaint traffic of little breezes wearing colorful garments where an orchestra of laughter tunes its various instruments in the red lesser broadening foothills

darling i love u becuz u see the world & run toward it u call it by name & it calls 2 u like speaking at yo birth its incantations follow u like a white linen gown yo word grow churches wherever they r heard & us outlandishly 2gether in the brilliant day summerclad in r mutual constituency colorful & loud in referential existence 2 1 another oh, i want 2 lay down in the grass & dream pastels oh, i want 2 make love 2 u in the eazy hills i want 2 wander the collective memory of all things natural & unblind i want this magic this countryside like a new conneticut dream this sky with its breathlike blues & we would be so alone just u & me the high birds & the explosions of daffodils then the bright yellow laughter of sunflowers in multitudes of unimpeeded joy gregariously rioting the countryside we would move among the aloof trees that beg everyone's pardon & r kisses would mark time like short seasons that layer beauty in2 an elaborate fullness & oh, i would be well laying in the blue velvet of yo arms where this crystal quiet moment is cool sunlight billowing curtains across a naked country

Romus © Copyright, 1999

little sistuh ancient eyed & beautiful stars & suns cooing becuz u live & r well little sistuh made of the finest earth & the finest labor little sistuh with inherited quilting hands linking a patchwork history calling lands in2 kinship africa in in2 blackness poverty in2 morning little sistuh from a lineage generous az jazz little sistuh watching the sprawling city with afternoon laughing blues where yo eyes see the adolescent day expand & create shadows az intricate az swahili spoken on the tongues of common niggas little sistuh i see u looking at me at the stoplight from the backseat i see u documenting me among the people that r automatic receiving signals & turning corners that lead 2 the end of their lives & i am looking at u at yo braids yo watersoft cheeks the circus of barrettes in yo hair yo hands against the window like small brown birds in the clarity of prophetic dreams & i know that u r just beginning time still chanting each seperate minute around u each journey a myriad of colors & spinning things & i wonder who u look like what child r u come back 'round what things culminate in yo perfect universe r u yo grandmother here again like harriet sure of the way led by shadows & starlight & will u be alright & where r u going on this tuesday where we r all mired in mutual obligations & how much u r like so many other perfect little sistuhs who discover language & speak truth in the midst of r mounting denials & will u meet them in a great future beyond me little sistuh looking at me we touch & leave 4ever all those faces in the dreaming blue meadow of my sorrow all those dreams gathered then lost in ritual carelessness the millions whom i've noticed then 4gotten az the minutes photographed my life & caught me losing time in the frenzied masses all the kisses left to flower in the lonely bright hills the light iz green little sistuh & yo car iz inching 4ward but i hope that u know that i wish u the most exspensive of gentle love & the most adamant of tenacious luck & i hope that u will be smart & enjoy being that young i hope u will be generous & understanding & gather a sense of yoself & yo sisterhood & that u travel through many more summers & that the ancestors hold yo hands at the avenues of life & that yo daughters be brilliant & that u continue to inspect the world with serious eyes & that u read this poem 1 day & know that it waz me who simply adored u in that moment where yo face waz so clean & yo momma's kisses still shown glitter of yo cheeks & that my goodbyes 2day be just 1 of the many thousands & thousands u pass through & that in passing through little sistuh u pass love on

Romus © Copyright, 1999

last night under the moon & stars on the blue cafe patio with the late luxurious people high in the floating jazz there were snare drums stirring silver beneath yo chin at the poured skin diving in2 the dark of yo cleavage feeling u breath the powdered pan of yo shoulders rising like yo hips last night like yo mouth in2 the frail light from beneath the music then falling & falling

& i waz easy az the turn of a hand like a turn hurtling wind in2 a ballad laced in air i waz an inhalation of yo perfumed hair almost a sigh then a smile between the whispered & wonderful talk we shared a kiss i, reclining in yo lap reached up & met yo tongue & the talk continued in a cadence unbroken we punctuated every sentence were correct on every comma r syntax instinctual & dreamy then yo tongue again stirring in my mouth yo beautiful eyes half opened like luminous omens over a sensual land like seeing pleasure in the smoke & shadows u whispered "u want this?" yo hand moved from yo cheek down yo blouse across yo leg 2 the buckle of yo belt then disappeared the 2 fingers telling secrets between yo thighs "do u want this?" & u were not laughing yo lips forming words against my nose yo tongue a question mark "u want this baby?" yo fingers working the silk into creases pressing into that darkness u were biting yo lip & looking at me yo slow eyes moving across the patio & recognizing no one & nothing the bar the waitresses without meaning the jazz working u harder & i listened 2 yo breath taken in heat yo thighs a little wider my name muddled beneath yo tongue "do u want this, baby?" & the trumpet answered "yes yes!" screaming so the city could hear &the piano fondled itself in2 minors & the high hat lost its balance & crashed & the mallets thrashed a roll through the avenue of drums & the saxophone lashed its mouth 2 an unmatched bending yo fingers rolling the darkness around until night turned its face 2 you "do u want this?" & u kissed me again yo tongue indiscriminate across my mouth yo fingers slowing not out of shame but out of further defining the pleasure pressing that dark inch linking u beautiful thigh 2 beautiful thigh yo eyes lost in mascara & liner like a sexual painted face in full womanhood yo eyes though yo hair like slow moons through the midnight forest like the wet hot exchange of voyuerism like knowing that moist valley between yo hips yo fingers hurrying the night in2 running the long srokes diving in2 darkness then rising hungry "do u want this?" & the sax waz pleading "yes yes!" & the symbols were erections with golden tips & the bass thumbed a be-bop across yo hips & the trumpet hopped a measure ahead the piano skipped a chord & almost tripped & the night with its quiet stars showered the earth in eerie opulent light az yo mouth trembled against mine & the longing lost its plight settling around the city like a deep & weary night & the drums slowed 2 a stirring & the tumpet straightened its bell & the shrieking saxophone fell beside the falling fight & the moon waz a kite reflected in black water it waz high & staring in2 infinity yo breath & the volume of it in slowing rhythm yo heartbeat like a kettle drum drifting farther and farther away & sleep waz an incense laden caravan traveling here from a mystical starfilled night & i held az u wandered the quiet corridors of yo velvet satisfaction az yo eyes closed & yo hair held u like a lover

i love u like that darling daring & lost in memory & such a worldly woman such a worldly woman

Romus © Copyright, 1999

i waz young in 83 1 of many little boys that crowded the summers nubile shirtless often shoeless & never unclaimed the photographs speak 2 me the names & noises the stolen kisses the illiterate romances in the alleys something pure & eager az waiting breath the world waz so far away then cities like foriegn countries a universe of rich action strangers in relative celebrity the awe of freeways & booming construction open fields & secrets silence & vacant houses me in a world of back streets where the senses took pomona & created a domestic landscape of elaborate longings

my brother waz at ucla playing football my other brother a marine calling across the world & us at home with so much music patti labelle anita baker luther vandross there waz love like light in the streets & a richness lay gold in the indentations of r young memories

we were together then mere variations of 1 another strange but crystal nonetheless we sang "i'm in love again" & "angel" & "a house is not a home" & r voices became obelisks standing on late evening corners & r voices strewn stars in the great shadows of freeway underpasses & r voices were the mysteries all men decipher between women's thighs & each day in the river of that summer we walked through a community where men despite their intentions reached 4 one another in cadilacs that turned corners like slow orchestras

charles waz my man a brotha from 3 streets away a brotha labeled delinquent a brotha in a legacy of languid loneliness a brotha who never made high school who disappeared before he ever knew there people out there who disappeared while hiz skin waz soft while the action waz eazy who waz jailed who waz lost while hiz mother sat unimpressed in the dark kitchen & lit joints 1 end 2 the other

& they sang there 2 the music mixed sorrow & elation it tended 2 r losses & r acquisitions patti anita luther they were in my head in even volume & i remember them like second voices like something az natural az a dizziness in a bright dawn

patti anita luther if any of u ever reads this poem know that we r made of the beautiful statuesque things u placed in r paths know that 83 with all its open spaces held us singing & know that those things creep in2 the quiet stretches of latenight road where we want simplicity & old aquaintances & the chance 2 be innocent & be recognized & acknowledged in the brief continent of r youth before the booming crowds steal r faces & some of r lives

Romus © Copyright, 1999

james iz a worker profoundly straight & wonderfully green heavily wieghted in good he ignores the names thrown at him the occasional scream 4 often he daydreams he wanders hiz boss claims he is often not here that james' aims curve in2 clouds & clear skies that hiz eyes sometimes wander the wharf & peer through telescope lenses that his senses love routini & roses & the religion of business & its cries fade 2 rivers running wild & wide & crystal blue or sleepy lagoons with silent tides or merchant ships with fishing nets tatooed 2 their sides james dreams of games of catch in parks or paris shimmering in the moments before dark monks in eretria market places in senegal taiwanese skeyscraper builders in a shower of sparks indeed james' boss claims that james is not in the game sayz each day there iz more of the same clear-eyed daydreaming more hours awash more of the deep afternoon a new window in the office each day oceans at the shore of james' desk children at play caravans of camels in the narrow halls fields of unharvested hay new england meadows diego rivera murals in mexico city with tall burros panting 4ever in plaster stalls oh, james does travel sometimes he iz a nomad with all the gobi desert to call home all venice & rio de janeiro & libeville 2 roam all kitty hawk 2 stretch hiz arms where the wright bros. have flown james carries the world in hiz pocket cairo to dallas capetown & the czar's winter palace millions in haj 2 mecca's sacred stone james suffices 2 be alone & while serengettis bask in the heat of a beautiful day & az the great wall of china reclines in its strength az a perfect couple in a convertable drives the coast & sparkles sunlit along its picturesque length somewhere a long lost friend iz on the phone 4 james there r afternoons everywhere 2 call hiz own "JAMES JAMES! oh where iz your working? oh, james" the boss exclaims "effort has gone amiss there iz nothing much plainer than this would u much rather kiss rich ladies & remain 4ever in that bliss? would u rather nap or tote tea while yo coworkers hiss? that iz that & this iz this! james, i see flowers in yo hair i see air between yo ears i fear, yes i fear what i see & what i hear the nothingness from yo desk the lack of hurried mess james, i fear not meeting projections at the end of the fiscal year!" oh, the apologizing james abandoning the mediterranean hitching up horses & trekking in from the plains kissing paris goodbye regretting kilimanjaro's high trails leaving fijiian skies & confronting stacks of files leaving hiz laughter at the nile & piles & piles of figures at hiz lonely little desk hurrying from parades in new york mountains stitched together with cascading railroad ties majestic dragonflies samuri warriors waving heartfelt goodbyes & james handling insurance claims with fading foreign lands in hiz eyes & james with a little brazillian sand & the great grand wide open pinwheel of afternoons everywhere spinning in hiz eyes

Romus © Copyright, 1999

it waz like late fall all silver & velvet languid az speech in the drowsy delta eazy & calico az an upstate new york back road

cool water made its way down my bones & the joy oh, the refined joy uninterpreted mauve leaving roses laced in my hair dusk & quiet surrounding me in a perfumed soprano

yo kisses spread over me like new skin i place them on my eyes & in the corners of my mouth i wear your love like rare silks r yesterdays taste me like residual blessings

then i waz almost asleep there escaping in2 air the beautiful echoing longing swirling in the vacuum just beyond r parting lips it amazed me...

we were smiling the secret forming around us an implicit hush & recognition moons coming in the dusk soundless & slight electricity & in the darkening trees little eager stars

Romus © Copyright, 1999