Lynne d Johnson

 

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05.04.02 07:32 PM

love/a many splintered thing

Lately, there is this poem that keeps plaguing my mind. I didn't get it the first time I heard it though. It was during the taping of the first season of MTV Real World. It was the first time I met Kevin Powell. My cousin had known him a little while, and took me over to the Real World house in SOHO to meet him. During our visit, he had to go over to the Nuyorican Poets Cafe to give a reading. And this poem that has been plaguing my mind as of late, was the only thing I remembered him reading. I wanted to get it. For some reason I couldn't. Today, I guess I do, otherwise it would't be with me. I guess it just didn't hold much relevance for me back then. Do you get it? Here it goes:

love/a many splintered thing
i have this need to feel you
make love out of the sweat
itching our palms give
you to your mother so that she
can give birth to you create an
ocean where love sleeps peacefully
eat out of the same bed we flesh
orgasms scream where cobwebs
imprison courage cry where
your tears gripped my shoulders wrap
my tongue around your waist and
lick the rhythms of your walk
talk until a beat hits me where
it hits me where it hits me
in the space where my heart
used to be you know it's
blank now dark black no
commercials open land
waiting to be folded and smoothed
out like the note i slipped you yesterday
that said you are me am you we are
do not be afraid i want to
help you help me love a
many splintered thing i felt
yes his tongue slit my heart
as it parted your mouth
and i wanted to die yeah
rope myself with naivete
drink reflection: share a walk on
lenox avenue with a friend who
gets high on pain too many times
we step on eyelids and miss
the chance to l(i)ove the chance
to slide open a cloud with a kiss
when will trust not be for sale a
gun between the thighs a middle
finger aimed at the hungry a wish
stuffed inside two bodies crawling
on their tails scraping the bottom
of a dream
copyright 1995 by Kevin Powell

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