4) run a machine
5) And in some rare cases has been known to speak
This is training, Black people,
And while it is amusing
It is still a circus we are watching
Barnum and Bailey are the minds
behind president Johnson
You would not trust your life to a wolf or a tiger
no matter how many tricks they can learn
You would not turn your back on a cobra
Even if it can dance
Do not trust a honkie
They are all of the same family
The Black Liberation Front has free jobs to offer
for those concerned about the unemployed
The sisters need to make flags
(there are no nations without a flag)
The Red Black and Green must wave from all our
buildings as we build our nation
Even the winos have a part—they empty the bottles
which the children can collect
Teen-age girls can fill with flammable liquid
and stuff with a rag
Professor Neal says a tampax will do just fine
Ammunition for gun and mind must be smuggled in
Support your local bookstore
Dashikis hide a multitude of Revolution
Support your local dress shop
As all reports have indicated our young men are primary
On the job training is necessary
Support your local rebellion—
send a young man into the streets
Our churches must bless these efforts in the name
of our Black God
Far too long we have been like Jesus
Crucified
It is time for The Resurrection of Blackness
“A little child shall lead them” for the Bible tells me so
And we shall follow our children into battle
Our choice a decade ago was war or dishonor
(another word for integration)
We chose dishonor
We got war
Mistakes are a fact of life
It is the response to error that counts
Erase our errors with the Black Flame
Purify our neighborhoods with the Black Flame
We are the artists of this decade
Draw a new picture with the Black Flame
Live a new life within the Black Flame
Our choice now is war or death
Our option is survival
Listen to your own Black hearts
Poem for Black Boys
(With Special Love to James)
Where are your heroes, my little Black ones
You are the Indian you so disdainfully shoot
Not the big bad sheriff on his faggoty white horse
You should play run-away-slave
or Mau Mau
These are more in line with your history
Ask your mothers for a Rap Brown gun
Santa just may comply if you wish hard enough
Ask for CULLURD instead of Monopoly
DO NOT SIT IN DO NOT FOLLOW KING
GO DIRECTLY TO STREETS
This is a game you can win
As you sit there with your all understanding eyes
You know the truth of what I’m saying
Play Back-to-Black
Grow a natural and practice vandalism
These are useful games (some say a skill is even learned)
There is a new game I must tell you of
It’s called Catch The Leader Lying
(and knowing your sense of the absurd
you will enjoy this)
Also a company called Revolution has just issued
a special kit for little boys
called Burn Baby
I’m told it has full instructions on how to siphon gas
and fill a bottle
Then our old friend Hide and Seek becomes valid
Because we have much to seek and ourselves to hide
from a lecherous dog
And this poem I give is worth much more
than any nickel bag
or ten cent toy
And you will understand all too soon
That you, my children of battle, are your heroes
You must invent your own games and teach us old ones
how to play
Concerning One Responsible Negro with Too Much Power
scared?
are responsible negroes running
scared?
i understand i’m to be sued
and you say you can’t fight fifteen hundred national
guards men
so you’ll beat the shit
out of poor Black me
(no doubt because i’ve castrated you)
dynamite came to your attention
and responsible negroes tell the cops
your tongue must be removed
since you have no brain
to keep it in check
aren’t you turned around
teaching tolerance
how can i tolerate
genocide
my cup is full
and you already know
we have no ability
to delay gratification
i only want to reclaim myself
i even want you
to reclaim yourself
but more and more i’m being convinced
that your death
responsible negro
is the first step
toward my reclamation
it’s very sad
i’d normally stop and cry
but evening is coming
and i’ve got to negotiate
for my people’s freedom
Reflections on April 4, 1968
What can I, a poor Black woman, do to destroy america? This is a question, with appropriate variations, being asked in every Black heart. There is one answer—I can kill. There is one compromise—I can protect those who kill. There is one copout—I can encourage others to kill. There are no other ways.
The assassination of Martin Luther King is an act of war. President johnson, your friendly uncandidate, has declared war on Black people. He is not making any distinction between us and negroes. The question—does it have rhythm? The answer—yes. The response—kill it. They have been known to shoot at the wind and violate the earth’s gravity for these very reasons.
Obviously the first step toward peace is the removal of at least two fingers, and most probably three, from both hands of all white people. Fingers that are not controlled must be removed. This is the first step toward a true and lasting peace. We would also suggest blinding or the removal of at least two eyes from one of the heads of all albino freaks.
And some honkie asked about the reaction? What do you people want? Isn’t it enough that you killed him? You want to tell me how to mourn? You want to determine and qualify how I, a lover, should respond to the death of my beloved? May he rest in peace. May his blood choke the life from ten hundred million whites. May the warriors in the streets go ever forth into the stores for guns and tv’s, for whatever makes them happy (for only a happy people make successful Revolution) and this day begin the Black Revolution.
How can one hundred and fifty policemen allow a man to be shot? Police were seen coming from the direction of the shots. And there was no conspiracy? Just as there was no violent reaction to his death. And no city official regretted his death
but only that it occurred in Memphis. We heard similar statements from Dallas—this country has too many large Southern cities.
Do not be fooled, Black people. Johnson’s footprints are the footprints of death. He came in on a death, he is presiding over a death, and his own death should take him out. Let us pray for the whole state of Christ’s church.
Zeus has wrestled the Black Madonna and he is down for the count. Intonations to nadinolia gods and a slain honkie will not overcome. Let america’s
baptism be fire this time. Any comic book can tell you if you fill a room with combustible materials then close it up tight it will catch fire. This is a thirsty fire they have created. It will not be squelched until it destroys them. Such is the nature of revolution.
America has called itself the promised land—and themselves God’s chosen people. This is where we come in, Black people. God’s chosen people have always had to suffer—to endure—to overcome. We have suffered and america has been rewarded. This is a foul equation. We must now seek our reward. God will not love us unless we share with others our suffering. Precious Lord—Take Our Hands—Lead Us On.
The Funeral of Martin Luther King, Jr.
His headstone said
FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST
But death is a slave’s freedom
We seek the freedom of free men
And the construction of a world
Where Martin Luther King could have lived
and preached non-violence.
A Litany for Peppe
They had a rebellion in Washington this year
because white people killed Martin Luther King
Even the cherry blossoms wouldn’t appear
Black Power and a sweet Black Peace
Just about 200 white people died
because they conspired to kill Martin Luther King
And peace and power to you my child
Blessed be machine guns in Black hands
All power to grenades that destroy our oppressor
Peace Peace, Black Peace at all costs
We’re having our spring sale
200 honkies for one non-violent
Even Wilmington Delaware
(a funni negro at best)
Responded appropriately
And to you my Black boy
A Revolution
My gift of love
Blessed is he who kills
For he shall control this earth.
Nikki-Rosa
childhood remembrances are always a drag
if you’re Black
you always remember things like living in Woodlawn
with no inside toilet
and if you become famous or something
they never talk about how happy you were to have
your mother
all to yourself and
how good the water felt when you got your bath
from one of those
big tubs that folk in chicago barbecue in
and somehow when you talk about home
it never gets across how much you
understood their feelings
as the whole family attended meetings about Hollydale
and even though you remember
your biographers never understand
your father’s pain as he sells his stock
and another dream goes
And though you’re poor it isn’t poverty that
concerns you
and though they fought a lot
it isn’t your father’s drinking that makes any difference
but only that everybody is together and you
and your sister have happy birthdays and very good
Christmases
and I really hope no white person ever has cause
to write about me
because they never understand
Black love is Black wealth and they’ll
probably talk about my hard childhood
and never understand that
all the while I was quite happy
The Great Pax Whitie
In the beginning was the word
And the word was
Death
And the word was nigger
And the word was death to all niggers
And the word was death to all life
And the word was death to all
peace be still
The genesis was life
The genesis was death
In the genesis of death
Was the genesis of war
be still peace be still
In the name of peace
They waged the
ain’t they got no shame
In the name of peace
Lot’s wife is now a product of the Morton company
nah, they ain’t got no shame
Noah packing his wife and kiddies up for a holiday
row row row your boat
But why’d you leave the unicorns, noah
Huh? why’d you leave them
While our Black Madonna stood there
Eighteen feet high holding Him in her arms
Listening to the rumblings of peace
be still be still
CAN I GET A WITNESS? WITNESS? WITNESS?
He wanted to know
And peter only asked who is that dude?
Who is that Black dude?
Looks like a troublemaker to me
And the foundations of the mighty mighty
Ro Man Cat holic church were laid
hallelujah jesus
nah, they ain’t got no shame
Cause they killed the Carthaginians
in the great appian way
And they killed the Moors
“to civilize a nation”
And they just killed the earth
And blew out the sun
In the name of a god
Whose genesis was white
And war wooed god
And america was born
Where war became peace
And genocide patriotism
And honor is a happy slave
cause all god’s chillun need rhythm
And glory hallelujah why can’t peace
be still
The great emancipator was a bigot
ain’t they got no shame
And making the world safe for democracy
Were twenty million slaves
nah, they ain’t got no shame
And they barbecued six million
To raise the price of beef
And crossed the 38th parallel
To control the price of rice
ain’t we never gonna see the light
And champagne was shipped out of the East
While kosher pork was introduced
To Africa
Only the torch can show the way
In the beginning was the deed
And the deed was death
And the honkies are getting confused
peace be still
So the great white prince
Was shot like a nigger in texas
And our Black shining prince was murdered
like that thug in his cathedral
While our nigger in memphis
was shot like their prince in dallas
And my lord
ain’t we never gonna see the light
The rumblings of this peace must be stilled
be stilled be still
ahh Black people
ain’t we got no pride?
Intellectualism
sometimes i feel like i just get in
everybody’s way
when i was a little girl
i used to go read
or make fudge
when i got bigger i
read
or picked my nose
that’s what they called
intelligence
or when i got older
intellectualism
but it was only
that i was in the way
Universality
You see boy
is universal
It can be a
man
a woman
a child
or anything—
but normally it’s
a
nigger
I was told
Knoxville,
Tennessee
I always like summer
best
you can eat fresh corn
from d
addy’s garden
and okra
and greens
and cabbage
and lots of
barbecue
and buttermilk
and homemade ice-cream
at the church picnic
and listen to
gospel music
outside
at the church
homecoming
and go to the mountains with
your grandmother
and go barefooted
and be warm
all the time
not only when you go to bed
and sleep
Records
it’s so important to record
i sit here trying to record
trying to find a new profound
way to say
johnson is the vilest
germiest beast
the world has ever
known
in the alleged civilized
times
trying to record
how i feel about a
family
being wiped out
trying to explain
that they have nothing
against bobby
he’s a white
millionaire
several hundred times over
so it must be me
they are killing
trying to record
the feeling of shame
that we Black people
haven’t yet
committed a
major assassination
which very desperately
must be
done
trying to record the
ignorance of the
voices
that say
i’m glad a negro
The Collected Poetry of Nikki Giovanni Page 6