The Prophets

by Robert Jones, Jr.

  Listen:

  Heed:

  We are calling for a witness!

  Ay!

  We are only telling you what we know.

  You have to be willing to come forth when the hands are open widest.

  Why do you think we are in this clearing instead of in that other one?

  We heard you sing:

  Come see about us, Lord!

  And that is not your song.

  That is why you try to make home a paradise instead of a place where life can take root.

  Yes, well.

  Home is not frozen.

  It is not some insect trapped in amber.

  Neither is it soft like clay for you to mold to whatever shape suits you.

  It is bigger than you.

  Do you understand?

  Home is the beginning of every possibility and here you are trying to ruin it with your limitations.

  There are mountains here, too.

  Do not look away.

  This is not who you were supposed to be.

  You disrespect artisans.

  You throw stones at guardians of the gates.

  You ravage the spirits too grand for the body.

  You imagine your own rituals savage.

  You forget the circle.

  Living so far from the existence you were snatched from—

  a half-truth.

  Also given over to.

  Becoming ever more like your captors, you cannot even look your lover in the eye.

  This is the mark you leave upon each other:

  separation.

  Well, let us gather you. Come: let us gather you all.

  Where you are, it used to have a name.

  They found the name and hung it from trees.

  Someone should call this place by its real name.

  O, ordinary!

  How fine and ordinary.

  Hear us:

  There is a darkness that moves.

  It is the beginning of all things and the end of all things.

  It is eternal, drawing with such great force that even light bends to its whims.

  It is hands covered in oil, wiping lines across faces, pulled outward, spread like fingers, and waiting for the dawn.

  It is cosmos dangling at the ends of braids, children dancing a thousand nighttimes, elders dressed in blue garments giddy to be submerged in new waters and to shed old skins.

  This to the unseen.

  This to the unheard.

  This to the periphery people swimming between the glint of light and the bend of shadow.

  In the midnight.

  In the sanctity of caves.

  In the private moments between lovers who have, for the first time, touched each other’s faces.

  The waves crashing against the shore?

  That is a language, too.

  The horrible secret, children, is this:

  It is not you who are chained.

  Remember this, for it is the key to tongue-speak.

  But memory is not enough.

  We are complete.

  We are, all by ourselves, complete.

  Do not look away.

  There is a child, now, wandering in unknown woods.

  Inside him, there is a wound, which you placed there, that may or may not blossom.

  It may be uprooted.

  Or it may be visited upon you: a kind of return, the way things often return to the hands that unleashed them.

  The others, they are here with us, guarding the gates as always, pleased that a piece of them is still with you.

  Would you like to feel it?

  Close your eyes.

  See:

  The shape of suffering is not jagged.

  It is not bumpy; it is not flat.

  It is not even sharp.

  It is round as eyes and smooth as skin.

  It fits perfectly in the crook of the tongue and falls from the lips like a seeing stone.

  Leave it where it lies.

  Do not worry.

  Hips will sway.

  Heads will spin.

  Arms will swing.

  Oh, our bloodlings, beds will rock and it will be as close to good as our natures allow.

  You will walk upright in your mother’s house!

  You are trembling.

  Do not be ashamed.

  Tremble freely, but do not sleep.

  And. Do. Not. Look. Away!

  There is a sound when darkness withers.

  It is a whimper, much like a slumbering baby’s, but gentler, quieter, softer in its own way, and much more tragic because unlike a baby’s, it always goes unheard.

  Like the last thing they—they—said to us:

  L

  O

  V

  E.

  That is the living word.

  But you refused it.

  Spat on it when it was shown.

  Gave it the wrong cheek to kiss.

  No different from the field you became, you are changed.

  It is difficult

  to withstand the touch

  of a people who only

  bring their hands together

  to sow suffering

  who treat

  the menace that they create

  like it is not their creation.

  It is difficult

  to be among these trees

  that have been complicit in the destruction

  of so many people;

  every leaf, every crack in the bark, every drop of sap, every twisted root:

  guilty.

  But don’t they stand anyway,

  tall and thick in denial

  blocking out the sky?

  Blessèd be the ones who gaze upon the night and holy are the ones who remember.

  And memory is not enough!

  Kosii!

  To know from beneath:

  That is a story only a prophet can tell.

  But with the world being what it is

  and the world being what it forever will be

  never without a grieving heart.

  Àṣẹ!

  Here is the fire now:

  dancing, destroying.

  But honestly

  only wanting to be sung to

  softly

  sweetly.

  It is a dying flame

  shrinking

  flickering

  waiting to be extinguished

  finally

  by a lullaby.

  But there are no singers left.

  For the noose has already been hung.

  The bond has already been broken.

  The seen has already been foresaw.

  The then is arriving now.

  And nothing in creation able to stop the coming.

  Nothing

  except You.

  Acknowledgments

  Please forgive me if I forget to mention your name.

  James Baldwin: It is in your name that I found the justice that my heart craves, the fairness that my mind seeks, the peace that my soul remembers, and the triumph that my body has been waiting for. You asked that we find you in the wreckage. We did that, “Pop.” Now we shall gather the pieces and build a fine altar to your intellect, light candles, and love you the way you loved us: with gratitude.

  Jandel Benjamin: Auntie, I write because you were the first in our family to write. I saw your poems and it made me know that writing didn’t have to be an intangible dream. It didn’t have to be a hobby. It could be real. Thank you for that gift.

  Sherise Bright: Your friendship/sisterhood is an entire blessing and I’m so grateful
that the universe saw fit to bring us together. You are a constant source of optimism, faith, humor, and intuition. You predicted this moment and I thank you for your insight into things that cannot be seen, but only felt.

  Victoria Cruz: You are a living legend. What a blessing it was for me to bask in the glory of one of our greatest foremothers. Thank you for your advocacy, grace, humor, fierceness, and love.

  Valerie Complex: Your genius amazes me. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone so effortlessly and endlessly creative, funny, beautiful, and kind. I can’t wait for the rest of the world to know what I know: that your gifts are inspiring and life-changing. Love you, sis.

  George Cunningham: It was you who gave me all that the American education complex denied by showing me the truth they never intended for me to see. It was in your course, “Reading Race,” that I learned that my perspective and purpose was not some aberration, but was actually the latest in a long tradition of resistance. I don’t know how to repay you.

  Ava DuVernay: I don’t know how you find the time to do it: create an endless stream of magnificence and also embrace us and laugh with us and break bread with us and dance with us and keep us ever so close. That is nothing short of miraculous and you are nothing short of a miracle. Thank you for giving of yourself so that we all might hold our heads a little higher. I ride or die for you, sis.

  Janet Jackson: You have left an indelible mark on me, not just with your angelic voice, impeccable dancing, bright smile, sauntering stage work, and fierce music, but also with your seething intelligence and unyielding social consciousness. I broke my mother’s dining room chair practicing “The Pleasure Principle” back in 1987, but it was all worth it because “Rhythm Nation” showed me, in ways accessible to an eighteen-year-old mind, that I had a responsibility to help make the world a better place for not just myself, but all those who are oppressed. Thank you.

  Joan Jones: Ma, you always say, “He raised hisself,” but what you don’t know is that your courage, liberty, take-no-shit-from-nobody stance, rejection of patriarchy, skepticism of all belief, requirement of hard facts and tons of evidence, acceptance of violence as a defensive option when necessary, and insistence on being precisely who the fuck you are irrespective of who did or didn’t approve was the example that I needed to survive and thrive. You are an outlaw and a free woman. And I thank you for it.

  Tron Jones: My blood brother. Thank you for your sacrifices. Thank you for your laughter. Thank you for holding on despite the things holding you back. Please—share your writing with the world.

  Sally Kim: My vision board foretold of our meeting and of our melding. Thank you for your knowing eye and discerning heart, undying support, respecting what I am attempting to do and say, and for helping me to focus and fine-tune so that others might likewise respect those things. Thank you, also, for understanding my superstitions.

  Kiese Laymon: Brother. You are such a tremendous source of love and light that English isn’t suitable enough to describe you. Your belief in my ability carried me high when I was extremely low. Your writing—your deep, rigorous writing—gave me permission to say what I feel I have to say. Thanks are not enough, but thank you.

  PJ Mark: I have never had someone believe in my work so fiercely, fight for it with such diligence, and defend it with this level of tenacity. I heard that in the agent industry, they call you “The Pitbull,” but I think James Bond is more accurate. Thank you so much for your guidance, kindness, expertise, and no-nonsense approach to my work and my career.

  Calvis McLaurin: One day, brother, it will be impossible for you to ignore your calling and you will get to work. More than politicians, pastors, priests, police, and pimps, the world needs its painters. Your brush is then pen; your pad your canvas. Go make a masterpiece. For our sake.

  Ernesto Mestre-Reed: When very few others saw value in my writing, had, in fact, diminished it with their thoughts and words, had cautioned me about the “danger of becoming a Black writer,” you saw what they refused to: that the danger was present not how they imagined, but how they feared. You encouraged me to continue writing and showed me that there was inherent worth in my work. Your mentorship was invaluable. Thank you.

  Toni Morrison: It was my dream for you to read this book, believe that it has merit, offer your blessing, and perhaps invite me for a cup of tea at your house so that I could tell you how without you, this book could not have been because it was your holy scripture, your complete indictment and rearrangement of the English language that inspired me to write it. You said if I couldn’t find the book I wanted to read, then I must write it. So I did. Wherever you are in the universe, it is my sincerest hope that you are pleased.

  Roni Natov: “Intake of breath . . .” You have been a tremendous advocate of not just my academic success, but of my overall success. If not for your boundless kindness, support, and belief in my abilities, I’m not sure where I’d be right now. You are a joy. Thank you.

  Osvaldo Oyola: You saw this work at its earliest, clumsiest stages and still thought it was worth something. Thank you for your keen set of eyes, indelible mind, and brotherhood. Started from the Cyborg, now we here!

  Samora Pinderhughes: Bruh-Bruh, from the moment we met, we became family. Thank you for listening, wishing only good things for me, cooking healthy foods, letting me get sneak peeks of your music, being one of the most brilliant musicians on this planet, having a big-ass heart, and having an incredible conscience.

  Robert Scott: As I wandered the halls of Brooklyn College lost, you found me, as you have found generations of others, and put me on the right track. Thank you for your careful mentorship.

  Arlene Solá-Vargas: For over forty years we have shared joys and pains, triumphs and tragedies, and look at us! We made it. We made it in spite the circumstances, maybe even because of the circumstances. Thank you so much for your encouragement and for welcoming me into the family.

  Adrian Techeira: My husssband. LOL! Never did I imagine that your Virgo-ness would come in handy. Thank you for your critical eye, your legal expertise, your support when I can’t operate at one hundred, the house that is now a home, and the love that is now bonded and witnessed. Thank you.

  Charles, Marcus, and Victoria Thompson: One realist. One learner. One dreamer. Thank you for your undying encouragement, trusted friendship, and for choosing me to be part of your family. I’m eternally grateful.

  Crystal Waterton: You, whose diapers I changed. And now you are a grown woman and creating the most brilliant of art. I can’t wait until the world learns what I already know: you are one of the most brilliant filmmakers around. Make. Your. Art. Sis!

  David Wells: You have been like a true brother to me, helping me feel whole when I feel like I could fall apart, checking on me when the days are too long and the nights are troubled. I know now what they mean when they say “brother’s keeper.” Thank you.

  To the Janklow & Nesbit Associates team, Ian Bonaparte and Zoe Nelson, and the G. P. Putnam’s Sons/Penguin Books USA team, Joel Breuklander, Brennin J. Cummins, Ivan Held, Christopher Lin, Ashley McClay, Katie McKee, Emily Mlynek, Gabriella Mongelli, Vi-An Nguyen, Nishtha Patel, Anthony Ramondo, Amy Ryan, Alexis Welby, and the entire Putnam sales team: You helped me pull a lifelong fantasy out of the ether and into the material world. Your commitment and teamwork is inspiring. My gratitude is never ending. Thank you.

  To my blood and chosen family, who have seen me at the beginning, through my tribulations, and into my triumphs—you have been my solid ground and I love you deeply: Khadeem D. Wilson, Khadijah I. Wilson, Sandra Benjamin, Alfred Benjamin, Jr., Shahaira Davy, Justin O. Christopher, Orlando J. Davy, Jr., Sheronda Benjamin, Lenice Smith, Kayin Davy, Errol Waterton, Orlando Davy, Sr., Melissa Barnaby Hernandez, Christian Alcazar, Chastity Hernandez, Angel Bright, LaFawn Davis, Hilda and David Sola, Sr.; Eduardo Sr., Eduardo Jr., Isabella, and Daniel Vargas; David Jr., Laurie, and Olivia Sola; Tron Jr., Taina, Destiny,
and Terrence Jones-Bosse, Julian and Milagros DeJesus, Dorothy, Simon, Nneka, Nya, and Jordyn Spence; Tiffany, Lole Sr., Lole Jr., Rowan, and Ivan Techeira, Jennifer Jacinto, and Tina Honeycutt; Beth, Tara, and Matthew Benjamin-Botas; Dawn Benjamin and Anthony Purge, Darlene Horton, Dawn Horton and family, Jimmie Horton and family, LaMont Horton and family, Renee, Cameron Jr., and Cameron Kelly, Dondria, Gary, and Ty Gadsden; Elena, Raquel “Mama Rock,” and Howard “Pop” Pinderhughes; my Jones aunts: Angela, Laverne, Mallie, Mary, and Rita; My Jones cousins: Cheryl, Christine, Christopher, Daniel, Eric, Ebony, Elijah, Isiah, Jacob, Jamal, Jason, Jordan, Joshua, Justin, Kelly, Lashawn, Michael, Monae, Sean, Shauna, Stephanie; Lester Wint, Shannette Duncan-Wilson and family, Nicole Wilson, Starr Lester and family, Keesha Peets and family, James Peets and family, Scooner, Glenn, and Deena McCray and family, Willie “DJ Ill Will (Your Wifey’s Favorite DJ)” White, Daniella “DAN-NELA” White, Octavia “Tay” Davison, William “Goddy” White, Jr., Rashawn “Red” White, Quincy “Penguin” White, Kimora “Whoop De Whoop” Simon, Summer “Zibba Zobba” Simon, Ashley “Ash Cash” Saint Louis, Reina Monserate, Scorpio Simon, and the entire Davison and White families, Michelle and Dream Holder, Tanya Edwards; Songhai, Glenn, Caleb, Kendi, Eli, and Taylor Deveaux; Karen and Joe McCord, Lori Petty, Anaya McLaurin, Stephanie Acevedo-McCardle-Blunk, Miles Law, Paula Bryant (Brion), Margaret Prescod, Chanda and Kevin Hsu Prescod-Weinstein, Mary, Cheryl, Wanda, Felicia Diane, and Dawn Carpenter; Baldwin the cat, all the Benjamins, Betheas, Denmarks, Gaineses, Hines, Joneses, and Wilsons. Thank you.

  Your unfathomable creativity, artistic achievements, and shining genius made it possible for me to imagine a reality where I had a chance: Wallace Thurman, Gloria Naylor, Alice Walker, Octavia Butler, Zora Neale Hurston, Chinua Achebe, Michelle Alexander, Maya Angelou, Kola Boof, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Edwidge Danticat, Debra Dickerson, Tananarive Due, Nikki Giovanni, Max S. Gordon, Joseph Illidge, Lorraine Hansberry, Ernest Hardy, James Earl Hardy, E. Lynn Harris, N. K. Jemisin, Jamaica Kincaid, Gabriel García Márquez, Ayana Mathis, James McBride, Herman Melville, Nell Irvin Painter, Gabby Rivera, Sonia Sanchez, Ntozake Shange, Danyel Smith, Brandon Thomas, Jean Toomer, and Isabel Wilkerson.

  When I was lost, your voice and your song guided me home: Aaliyah, Marsha Ambrosius, Ashford & Simpson, Bobby and IZ Avila, Bahamadia, Anita Baker, Big Freedia, Black Stax, Radha Blank, Mary J. Blige, Boyz II Men, Brandy, Dennis Brown, Foxy Brown, Bry’Nt, B.Slade, Cakes Da Killa, Tevin Campbell, Mariah Carey, Chika, Sam Cooke, Bernadette Cooper, D’Angelo, Frenchie Davis, Deadlee, Smoke E. Digglera, Johnathan Douglass; Earth, Wind & Fire; Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliot, En Vogue, Rachelle Farrell, Aretha Franklin, Rah Rah Gabor, Kenneth Gamble and Leon A. Huff, Medino Green, “Cat” Harris-White, Donny Hathaway, Lalah Hathaway, Lauryn Hill, Whitney Houston, Phyllis Hyman, Stasia “Stas” Irons, Freddie Jackson, Mahalia Jackson, Millie Jackson, Luke James, Jidenna, Syleena Johnson, Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, Kevin Kaoz, Chaka Khan, Patti LaBelle, Ledisi, Lady Leshurr, Le1f, Ari Lennox, Lil’ Kim, Enongo “Sammus” Lumumba-Kasongo, Cheryl Lynn, Janelle Monae, Stephanie Mills, Laura Mvula, Meshell Ndegeocello, Mr. Strange, New Edition, Kimberly Nichole, Gene Noble, Jessye Norman, Sinead O’Connor, Rahsaan Patterson, Leontyne Price, Prince, Rapsody, Della Reese, Rihanna, Amber Riley, Minnie Ripperton, Diana Ross, Sade, Salt-N-Pepa, Bobby Short, Nina Simone, Bessie Smith, The Staple Singers, Sandra St. Victor, Donna Summer, Sylvester, Tank and the Bangas, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Monifah and Terez Thorpe, Tina Turner, Tweet, Usher, Dionne Warwick, Jody Watley, Vesta Williams, Angela Winbush, Stevie Wonder, and Nicole “Lady” Wray.