response on his online poetry forum was
"Wow. i love you too." 3/04
I AM a social worker
an intern cruising the n train
into brooklyn
bringing me to my large desk
in a small cubicle of a foster care agency.
possessed by the light i see into the past :
brotha saul williams, shy of becoming paul
sitting in mtv studio
shotgun to his head
cursing vanilla sundae school god
challenging bulimics
to wake up good morning america
throwing them a ball of yarn
a(men) to a different reality
yet amen to another lie :
to swim to a different reality
to swim in his poetic ejaculation.
i love u brotha saul, i sweat
tears for you, me and a thousand wanna-bes
practice our rants while riding
the n(iggerimus, nothing new, nobody wanna lose
a slam) train (ing wheels) for
the real world/ road rules.
But why so many people still confused?
you see, psst, the sun... and the moon�
nah try microphone try djembe!�
the sun AND the moon,
not one or the other, never taking turns
when they�re visible from earth 24/7,
are joined as One.
how wrong, oh how(l)
they separate the body from the mind!
God gave us both
the sun AND the moon
Jesus AND the genuine church
the voice AND the pen
washing each other�s feet.
let there be Light!
suddenly n train leaves
manhattan landfill to shake
up brooklyn bridge.
I AM aware
of pseudo-profits (square in round hole)
pseudo-followers
pseduo-war cry
pseudo-name on the dollar dollar bill yall.
truth: what dr. king knew
before and after, not when,
sinatra gave him batheseba
and a shot gun to his spoken word.
truth is not good advice.
truth is how to absolutely breathe
without buzzing mosquitos
and burning garbage plaguing
south bronx children.
i hear ya brotha saul,
attack the subconsious of america,
but to do so as if tubman-douglas-
sojurner-king were t.v. evangelists
on pan-(not african)am
flight to canada?
i love you brotha saul--
not as a crazed eminem fan
pulling and squeezing dido
to one of your cds; not in your name.
but brotha saul,
i see Jesus or a celebrity look-a-like,
but who is wickitty w(it)ch?
one is a hypothesis, One is proven.
each having precious oil pouring
on top of the head,
running down onto the beard,
running down onto thick beard,
down onto red robes.
black oil for the hypothesis.
holy oil for the sun and the moon.
america and her revised church
belongs to the hypothesis
colors a crayon book
needs the hypothesis
steals oil to praise a verb
trinity between slaves, overseers,
and masters.
but true saints can do nothing
but let the sunshine fill our craters.
all to One will One joy fulfilling
One never-ending dance hall cheer:
�palante, siempre,
palante, ay ay ay gloria!�
big threat to the lying hypothesis,
to the lying narcissus, to the lying
venus, and to the lying bacchus.
�we are not gods, radical individuals,
but made for One
radical community,�
phoned the shot gun to t.r.l.
(�n train makes my stop.
i hold the other red book).
