Sunday Poem

Funk Lore

We are the blues
ourselves
our favorite
color
Where we been, half here

half gone

We are the blues
our selves
the actual
Guineas
the original
Jews
the 1st
Caucasians

That's why we are the blues
ourselves
that's why we
are the
actual
song

So dark & tragic
So old &
Magic

that's why we are
the Blues
our Selves
In tribes of 12
bars
like the stripes
of slavery
on
our flag
of skin

We are the blues
the past the gone
the energy the
cold the saw teeth
hotness
the smell above
draining the wind
through trees
the blue
leaves us
black
the earth
the sun
the slowly disappearing
the fire pushing to become
our hearts

& now black again we are the
whole of night
with sparkling eyes staring
down
like jets
to push
evenings
ascension
that's why we are the blues
the train whistle
the rumble across
the invisible coming
drumming and screaming
that's why we are the
blues
& work & sing & leave
tales & is with spirit
that's why we are
the blues
black & alive
& so we show our motion
our breathing
we moon
reflected soul

that's why our spirit
make us

the blues

we is ourselves

the blues

by Amiri Baraka
from Funk Lore, Littoral Books, 1996