Saxophone Solo – I was known for this poem on Columbia’s campus; still my favorite..

And just who do you think you are?

That you

Could build up my emotions

Strong

Like the ancient Egyptian pyramids

Only to leave them shattered

like the crumbs at the bottom of grandma’s cookie jar

After the sweet treats are gone

And who are you?

That you

Could sweet talk me into givin’ up myself

Once closed

Pure as Georgian sugar canes

: and just as sweet

givin’ up my sweet sugar like the saxophone gives in to

lips

and

fin

ger

tips

of Grover or Coltrane

givin’ in –

hoping that what comes from the sacrifice

will be everlasting

but you played me for only a three-count phrase

and laid me down to free your hands for another

and I am left to do a solo performance

:with no assistance

from you

and I thought that since makin’

mu

zi

cal

love

waz your thang

then what I had inside waz enuf for you

but my dance;

and my poems

and sensuous soul: filled with rhapsodies and roses

could not satisfy you

no-

none of that was enough

you were like all men arrogant enough to look for

whatever wasn’t coming your way

and what you found had to be beautiful

: with long permed hair

and she had to have that money

: green as the grass we parted when we were once lovers

yes, your new love had to be full of those superficial qualities

that satisfy your black bourgeois mentality

no deep sister

who knew black men

and could tell you more about

Farrakhan and Medgar Evers

than

they  

                        themselves

knew

no real woman

whose hair went nappy when wet

with water from midnight showers

with big feet:  healthy thighs:

common sense

but since you’re one of those so-called MEN

who haven’t yet recognized the unique essence of

a TRUE

            Black

                        Woman

you can keep your lips

            and

your fingers

            to

yourself

for I’d rather:

            cry for my sisters in Soweto;

fast for my people in Johannesburg;

            march for my brother Jesse;

before i’d ever

            -EVER-

let your lips

: playing games of kiss and lie

and your fingers

: boasting empty caresses

touch

            my soul

                        again

                                    in life

‘cause I am no fool –

and just who do you think I am ANYWAY?

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About Toni

A mom-preneur, writer, poet, and lover of children and life. Looking for nothing but joy in this lifetime!
This entry was posted in Poetry, Relationships. Bookmark the permalink.

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