Seven Elevens 450

  Shades of Blue for a Blue Bridge 317

  The Shot 340

  A Singer’s Siren Calling in Marcus Garvey Park: August 24, 2013 538

  Sitting on My Veranda, Facing the Caribbean Sea 434

  Skulls along the River 111

  The Sky Empties Down Ice 141

  Slippin’ & Slidin’ Over Syllables for Fun 222

  Snake-Back Solo 99

  Snow & Ice 70

  Some Think 637

  Sometimes in Montebello 351

  Sometimes While Sitting on a Bench in Central Park 541

  Song 269

  Song of the Hoodoo Spirit Crabs 488

  Sonic Fireflies 607

  Soon to Be Ghost Voices Plunging through the Sky 516

  The Sound, Breaking Away 211

  Sounds of New York City 403

  South Central Vandeventer Street Rundown 119

  Southern Lyric; Ritual 176

  Space Travels 643

  Spring Time Moving Toward Summer: A Crap Shoot 610

  Steel Poles Give Back No Sweat 68

  Strange Harlem Encounter: A Portrait 523

  Strange Incidents 521

  A Surrealistic Poem to Everyone & No One in Particular 71

  Switchin’ in the Kitchen 361

  The Syntax of the Mind Grips 35

  A Tanka for Stanley Moss at Age 95 593

  Taps for Freddie 416

  Telephone Call from Samo for Miles Davis 542

  There is Always Some Thing 625

  These Crossings, These Words 63

  Think of It 634

  Thinking of Fusing Spiritual and Cultural Identities Not Lost, 500

  This One Is for the Black Mamba 626

  A Thought for You, Margaret 173

  Thoughts on A Sunday Morning in Goyave 431

  Three for the Biafran War 43

  Three Sevens: 21 Lines Hoping for Change 330

  Three Wasps in Juan Dolio, Santo Domingo 605

  Time 636

  Tout de Même—Nice & Malibu 197

  Transcircularities 319

  Transformation 90

  Transition: Guadeloupe (Karukera) to the Gulf of Mexico 487

  Translating the Dreams 482

  Trump is America’s Waterloo 623

  Trump’s Legacy to Black Americans 624

  Trump’s Response on Hearing the News of Covid-19 622

  Trying to Find My Way into A Poem in 14 Lines 621

  Two New Seven-Elevens in Rhyme 525

  Untitled 256

  Untitled 3 171

  Untitled Dreamscape 463

  Up Sun South of Alaska 60

  Usain Bolt’s Final 2016 Olympics 578

  A Veil of Transparent Rain 436

  The View from Skates in Berkeley 263

  Versace 327

  A Vision 448

  A Wandering 7–11 594

  Watch Out for Sound Bites & Spin Doctors 215

  Watching Seagulls Hunt for Fish in Sines, Portugal 608

  Watts 1965 613

  We Have Come Here Again 356

  Weather Report in Lincoln Nebraska 2/8/71 37

  What If Truth Can’t Seduce 573

  What Is It Poetry Seeks 359

  What the Poetic Line Holds 312

  Where Have They All Gone 391

  White Weekend 38

  Whose Death Is This Walking towards Me Now 133

  Woke Up Crying the Blues 39

  A Woman in the Water 348

  Words that Build Bridges Toward a New Tongue 294

  Your Lover’s Eyes Speak 284

  FIRST LINES

  & it all came together on the mississippi river 199

  116th street fish smells, pinpoint la marqueta 166

  across, beyond, moving toward the soon other coast, 319

  after rain 79

  all along the rail 41

  all around the north shore of hilo, hawaii, ghost waves 518

  all of my good old friends are dropping, 599

  american lawrence welk 152

  an empty black shoe 526

  an old man is walking 591

  an opaque sky streaks tears down from clouds 330

  as the ancient black rhythm 44

  at the edge of green springtime 610

  at the end 181

  beauty all places 282

  the beauty of voices of jazz & blues 607

  because it is beyond midnight somewhere, 334

  Big Tom was a black nigguh man, 120

  birds flap crumbling wings 55

  birds ski down the day’s inscrutable smile 171

  Black jazz piano 30

  a blackboard in my mind holds words eye dream— 226

  a blooming fear wakes you 600

  Blue black and bow bent under beautiful 127

  bright day in pennsylvania 155

  buck dance antlers frozen 154

  a carrier of incandescent dreams this 95

  catch the blues song 90

  the clouds were mountains that day, behind the real mountains, 263

  coconut leaves shiver, wave, dance, green-golden, stream 349

  Come sing a song, Black Man, 26

  the cote d’azur is 197

  a crystal clear morning greeted you, dazzlingly blue 302

  the day absent of sun, troubles in over plush hill tops 274

  the day strides there on the wind 159

  dark clouds blooming up ahead over a small town 601

  dark fall 80

  a double rainbow arch up in copake new york— 574

  each day the sun rises, ghost voices foaming wash in, 482

  each of us here for a moment in time, dances 583

  the earth is a wonderful 233

  even when you sat in the glowing embers 410

  evenings rise here with voices of old people 176

  every sunday morning for many years now white people 406

  eye am always looking for shadows dropping hints 331

  eye am dreaming, thinking of sluicing words 649

  eye am hearing bells in the music of poetry, bells 286

  eye am searching for a quick way to redeem myself, 589

  eye am thinking of moments when my thoughts run 354

  eye came in the dead of night broke to watts 613

  eye change dreams at 42nd street, times square 219

  eye get up before the sun imitates a burst of fire, 442

  eye got on the uptown c train traveling north to harlem, 399

  eye have spent much time looking into the future 458

  eye listen to a flock of black birds jamboreeing high up 445

  eye listen to jazz musicians improvising 531

  eye look out my window, see mangoes hanging sweet 467

  eye looked in wonder as my shadow inked concrete 524

  eye mean please, already, give me a break, can we agree to disagree 216

  eye met you a couple of times with miles davis, 545

  eye never pressed flesh with you but heard, knew you 640

  eye read on yahoo one day of a very large bengal tiger, 521

  eye relive that moment after first laying eyes on you, 463

  eye remember bone under skin as gristle of wings 311

  eye remember long lines of boys snaking up greer avenue 536

  eye remember seeing the oblong fruit—mango, 396

  eye see a woman in the caribbean sea— 348

  eye sit here now inside my fast thickening breath 201

  eye sit on my veranda in goyave, listen to voices serenading, 434

  eye stretch my lips, 3000 miles 173

  eye thought it was the music when 168

  eye throw my rope tongue into the sky 172

  eye travel back into memory searching for voices, 460

  eye use to write poems about burning 186

  eye wake up before the sun becomes a burst of fire 564

  eye walk liquid footsteps of my words 196

  eye was looking for a way into some poems 621

  eye watch my cat, versace, roll over on her back, 327

  faces of leaves fall 325

  fast lane, the ball is up in the lights 315

  father, it was an honor to be there in the dugout with you 251

  finger touching breeze there gentle in air almost silent 211

  fireflies 91

  first eye am dreaming of blue skies followed by slight murmurs 441

  first of all he lied about how rich he was, 624

  following the north star boogaloo 204

  four wasps flew into José’s condo 605

  from my terrace in goyave, guadeloupe, eye listen, 476

  from this plate-glass window 73

  a full moon stares like a one-eyed panther’s surprised 395

  ghost voices left the north shores of the butterfly 487

  a hard quick rain creates rivulets in streets of new york city— 401

  he couldn’t even spell albuquerque 161

  he had been coming a very long time 249

  heavy fog blooms in the straits of juan de fuca 408

  her voice reminds of a great dancer’s body, supple 538

  high above the ceiling of imagination 71

  the high, great mesas, flat as vegas gambling tables 162

  high up in my imagination 540

  his body held the continence 65

  his wood & zinc house hard by the bay in goyave 198

  hoodoo crab spirits following wherever slave vessels take them 489

  the hours fly quick on wings of clipped winds 329

  ice sheets sweep this slick mirrored darkness 70

  if in a comatose instant of deep listening 174

  if there is something that takes you 246

  if you were a guitar, lucille, 338

  in a blink extreme tropes can be embraced, measures, 566

  In a hurricane of dust morning 51

  in a place beyond our knowing silence reigns, darkness 383

  in a silence of bells 86

  in new york city people 68

  in Sines, Portugal, in David Murray’s and Valerie’s lovely house, 648

  in the dead of night ghost voices come, surround me 478

  in the deep black hours of jerez, after midnight, margaret is a mummy 278

  in this quick breath 87

  into space time walks the bass strings of charlie mingus 227

  it all boils down to a question of what 164

  it is not who or what 84

  it is sunday morning, 5:30 a.m. when the roosters began crowing 431

  “It is the coldest night in 23 years in Lincoln Nebraska 37

  it is the transmission of language through air, eased from lips, 575

  it stormed thunder & lightning the day you passed, sekou, 413

  it struck as always without notice or warning, 439

  it was a simple wish to touch an elusive enigma— 514

  it was always about love from the moment you heard music michael 423

  it was the night of your funeral mama 143

  it’s a race against time in our backyard 443

  it’s hard on male eyeballs walking new york streets 253

  it’s in the bottomless power, magic of duende 588

  it’s like a gray dreary day, wet with tears & mourning 191

  just think about it sometimes all you need to do is open 457

  kids rapping bebop 617

  let old people speak of death 243

  let’s say you are who you believe you are—yellow light 240

  a lightning bolt unzips the black night sky, looking 578

  like a bullet fired through space from the other side, 646

  the line can be taut as a straight clothes-line 312

  living out here, calm, on the edge of the streaking western whirl 258

  a lone candle 81

  love, hand me flower petals of your laughter 585

  a man walks in slow motion as through a dream, 465

  may days bring an explosion of music 150

  mercy for broken wing birds 519

  the mind wanders as a line of poetry taking flight meanders 455

  the moon is a lemon wedge over guade-loupe 350

  movement of time through the music of space 471

  music drumming skies 103

  my dear brother, we once told each other 641

  my mother walks with certainty, ballerina-style 336

  my poems have holes sewn into them 105

  nothing like an earth- 438

  now eye want to hear hoodoo spirit crabs speak 493

  the old black man walking montebello road, 353

  on 116th street & adam clayton powell jr. boulevard, in harlem, 523

  on a drop-dead clear day you took me down the waterway, 343

  on a sea without motion 48

  on eighth avenue 147

  on good friday, fronting the square 189

  on my way to cartagena, colombia, flying from panama 533

  the other brandy 88

  out here where 82

  outside lake tahoe we see scorched white bones 193

  over time, all across the caribbean, 497

  People be profilin. 27

  the pulsating bass beat threading through 530

  quiet as it’s kept, Kobe, you were a once in a lifetime shake 626

  rain storms come swooping in wearing veils of dancing 351

  rhythms be switchin’ in kitchens when cooks work magic 361

  the reason America got 623

  ride chuckanut drive 257

  rising up in time, michael jordan hangs like an icon, suspended in space, 272

  River rhythm town 130

  roll-up door lifts next to a yellow light bathing 433

  romare bearden rooted his artistic memory in mecklenburg county 547

  seagulls perched high on gabled rooftops 608

  seduction is sex, passion, 580

  seven wingless syllables, dance 53

  “Should God die. I would die,” an Akan Proverb 501

  the sienna colored terra-cotta house of gabriel garcía márquez 568

  silence, silence on the roads 49

  the silliness of it all rushing like cartoons into black holes drilled 215

  slippin’ up on syllables, digital flipflops 222

  slit balls hung in southern/american winds then 60

  the sky empties down ice 141

  the sky here deep with questions of heat in summer—no matter 239

  soft blue wind caresses ease in off the sound, 313

  soft voices invisible serenade 77

  some think it is the long, short road we travel over, 637

  sometimes you sit here thinking of full-lipped 541

  the sound of the wind 447

  sounds quixotically mix human languages—wolof, french, 403

  sounds sounds of crushed traffic 179

  space travels around the world through wind storms 643

  speed is time clocking itself 256

  Stanley Moss fights death 593

  the star speeding across a midnight sky 448

  the sun god climbs the sky between her ripe plump breasts— 614

  surviving in us are secrets, identity, 500

  the syntax of the mind grips 35

  take it to the hoop, “magic” Johnson, 224

  that day began with a shower 93

  there are lines of words that stretch across white pages, 535

  there are moments when we are what we think we are, 309

  there is always some thing we need to know now, 625

  there is blood shed through voices 603

  there is nothing but yawning space between 148

  there is nothing on the flip side of time but more time 260

  there is something sounding like the ringing of bells 419

  there is time still to consider the absoluteness of seconds 248

  there was no screaming to announce hale-bopp’s comet’s second tail 270

  they are killing the joy of laughter once again 184

  they call from the near past whispering 513

  They deployed military troops 38

  they start early in the morning, rain or shine 619

  think of frogs boiling in hot water when 634

  three shades of blue 317

  time always comes stealing breath as it blows 544

  time will bring us shining blue 636

  to leave any house 119

  today the sky is gray black, 594

  train wheels spin over steel 525

  trucks growl these iced empty streets 158

  two overweight white policemen set up 405

  underneath a still life snapshot of grass & rocks, probing light 262

  up from new orleans, on riverboats 111

  use to be eye would be lying there 195

  a veil of transparent rain advances toward shore 436

  the voice came in from nowhere over my telephone, it was samo 542

  walking along together 651

  watching hurricane maria hit guadeloupe 604

  we are crossing another big salt water 488

  we are crossing, we are crossing, we are 474

  we are falling down roads into sleep 203

  we are here in this space 47

  we arrived on this butterfly island of beautiful waters, 486

  we awake to days in august bright with emerald 346

  We come from earth 22

  we have come here again to hear the talking drum of our galvanize 356

  we have come through doors flaming 58

  we stand within these bones 177

  we used to fly kites 89

  we walked streets 124

  we watched him loft a chip shot from the rough 340

  the wet eye 43

  what can be said of this petite 639

  what does poetry seek beyond 359

  what if truth can’t seduce with rare beauty 573

  what was she thinking, the beautiful young dutch 516

  when air freezes into heat 54

  when eye was growing up she used to sit in the bathroom, each & every 276

  when freddie webster died after shooting poison called “white girl” 416

  when he first received the news 622

  when you listen to miles davis on “Hannibal,” 418

  where does life-force go after flesh falls away from bone, 484

  where does life-force of breath go after flesh falls away from bone, 527

  where have they all gone to, those exuberant edgy misfits, 391

  where will they take us to 63

  whose death is this walking towards me now 133

  wings of snow sweep 104

  the wind swirling through the blueprint of speech, 365

  the wind/blade cutting 32

  with soaring fingers of flame 134

  with the music up high 99

  within an avalanche of glory hallelujah skybreaks 228

  Within the murmuring of darkness 149