Poetry by Saleem Clarke
Harlem Blues
Mid-summer breeze
Sets sail upon the unflappable leaves
Cold yellow bronze keeps the melody flowing
Eyes entranced, feet in tune with the beat,
This is the beat of Harlem,
The beat of people in unison,
Mentally and physically oppressed by all,
Conquered by none,
This is their art of rebellion,
Their staple
Their mark on the globe
Beauty doesn't resist it thrives and exists,
In this cultural eclipse
Transfixed upon this city of brilliancy
Fluent in the language of resiliency
The blue blues gives the black man a green thumb
He harvests the crops, but who plants the seeds?
The seeds are the fruitful future encapsulated by the dream
A reverie of purple tomorrows
And sun-draped yesterdays
But this is a hopeless hope
For the hopeful people
The people, the people
GOOD-BYE HarleM!
Copyright ©2006 Saleem Clarke
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Kiss of Tritiny
Mental kisses
Create spiritual eclipses
It’s but mind over matter
But it's my mind over your matter
Thus forming the eclipse
The feeling that comes next
is the liquid of your kiss
A journey so fulfilling
I must take multiple trips
The liquid,
The liquid of your kiss
Keeps my manhood aroused
Yet the fire of my emotion is doused
The liquid of your kiss,
a wound healed easily by time
To temporarily glow
with an unpolished shine
Seems ludicrous
It's crazy!
That liquid kiss is all mine?
Mentality flows like Liquid
Into the river of my Spirit
A spiritual kiss defies time
With your spirit I must dine
And lay trapped
Forever and never to be in solitude
Oh
The spirit of your kiss
A kiss so spiritual
Spiritual kisses
A sense of hope
For all my fabricated wishes
Be this as it may
In this tainted world I pray
That your spirit and my kiss
May formulate some day…
Copyright ©2006 Saleem Clarke
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Black
My mind is at war with my soul
That possesses the control to withhold
All I need to know and unfold
Surely beyond this door lies a pot of gold
But I’m a dealer so I sold
This plot of space
That I used to use to embrace my race
But now I can do nothing but pace and pace
As my being is being raped
It’s a mistake, Damn I would hate
To escape a debate I create
But I must not replicate the past
Because at last
The past is before my future now
And I vow to uphold this moral code
And not forfeit my soul to be sold
To the highest bidder
Lord knows I’m not a quitter
But if u figure the bigger picture you'll
Need a swigger of this liquor
To keep your eyes from blinding all of these
Truths I’m unwinding
In a story so storied by those who tell it well
Indeed this shit did sell
Our hearts are spent because
of all the time we've spent
In the bank of another instead
of looking beside us
And hugging our brother
Oh Shit, there is no truth without a cover
Time tells us there is much to discover
Just look past the thunder
Real-Eyes what is under the tundra,
We will see
What we saw when we
First gazed upon that door
Now the light is shining bright
As we must hold our SUN’S sons tight
And eliminate the darkness
That hinders us at night
Copyright ©2006 Saleem Clarke
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Meeting of The Minds
But does anyone remember
That one forbidden glance
As eyes looked up, met, and held
By common circumstance?
And does anyone recall
A certain winsome gaze
As eyes looked up, away, and back
Thoughts attuned, amazed
And if someone should remember
In a moment of self doubt
Will the bittersweet nostalgia
Drag the tacit union out?
Or if that someone should recall
In a jagged blink of time
Will the feeling be submerged
By another glass of wine
Copyright ©2006 Saleem Clarke
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4Profit
Ur prophets spoke of,
Ur prophets spoke of,
A blood-free land of bliss
Where my brothas could
Thrive and exist
But that is not this
This is not bliss
Now my brothas are left wit a list
A list of demands
Written on the foreheads
Of their mothers
These four heads have
Smothered
This country fried chicken
W/ barbeque sauce
They can’t taste the flour
All they see is the sauce
The source
Changing menus
Fabricating these cultural venues
Fuck being deceased
My brothas living in a lease
Living in a leash
Trapped in the belly of this beast
As I release the tension
W/ apprehension
The people fail to mention
The names of those henchmen
Responsible for my heroes
Trapped in the sky
All we ask is the truth
All we get is the lie
Why can't we fly?
We fly,
Ain’t we?
Copyright ©2006 Saleem Clarke
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