The Artist By Nikki Giovanni, from "Bicycles"

And so it comes
To this
The sun beating
Down

The people indifferently passing

And we ... out
Of breath
In a pool of salty
Sweat
Laughing Happy
In each other’s
Trust

That once again
We gentled the stone
All the way down
And will now

Push it back up

But we will wait
Until the sun sets
We will wait
Until the stores
Close

We will wait
While they put their garbage bags
In the streets

We will wait
Until the dogs and rats
Sniff their choices

We will wait
Until the street cleaners
Push their brooms
And the women offer their wares

We will hope
The men are kind

We are Sisyphus

We write the poems
We paint the portraits
We sculpt the statues
We quilt the blankets
We set the tables
We make the beds
We wipe the tears
We rock the anger
We hold on to tomorrow

We push the rock up
And we gently bring it down

We were promised
Only a gift of light

You keep me
From being
Lonely

Comments

If I May

Listen to your inner voice ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ If I may The Devil gotta funny way of keeping the mind so preoccupied that you nev'a getta chance to really - think To really- sink deep down into the core of yourself so much so that you can hear that echo sound when no one else' around you feel yourself reverberate. Fate bounces of the walls of you soul and fills those holes you had your big car, plasma t.v., black card, and designer shoes in. Sometimes when you lose control, you really win. The devil gotta funny way of keeping the mind in a state of static shock keeping us locked and in awe of what we ought and ain't got When we really ought to be glad we got at all Static nev'a changing The Devil is funny that way.

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