i. The Doors Will Open!
For Keith Cylar
Unlock the doors
untie my hands
chains round my ankles
the voice within
I forgive you FATHER
for you have sinned.
After he laid his beloved,
one of New York’s finest,
to rest.
The courage to be true
found sanctuary on his lips.
Keith, like a panther black,
a militant vanguard in the fight.
Could no longer sit,
watching,
lives needlessly lost.
Peeling back layers of deceit.
Remembering lessons learned.
The heat of Cleveland flames on his boyhood face,
comrades marching in the Chocolate City,
his own calling (A worker for social change,
a social worker).
Would not allow him to
contribute to the hospital conspiracy,
to keep the public blind.
His own calling, would not allow him to
see people’s rights not taken seriously.
Watching Cleveland burn
marching in the Chocolate City
seeing life snatched
too quickly
too soon
too often
from
too many
too close
too intimate
too young.
Life’s lesson
would not allow him to
sit
and
Watch.
Like any panther black,
he armed himself with
the reality of the day.
Took to the streets,
wanting whole truths.
Not partial truths,
misalignments,
misquotes,
misrepresentations,
not media truths.
But truths found when the world’s majority moves in concert.
Truths found when the world’s majority ACT(S)-UP.
A town crier, messages simple.
Brothers and Sisters
Black
lesbians and gays are real.
AIDS is real.
Through truth we can arm ourselves.
Truth without defeat.
Brothers and Sisters
What you gonna do?
What you gonna do?
Help me–Help me–Help me–Help!
Keith finds comfort
taking AIDS to task with force
frontline
Harlem
frontline
the steps of City Hall
frontline
On the wall with bulls.
Keith draws strength and is humbled,
by the many everyday men and women,
(s)heroes,
who won’t give up their will to live.
Remaining human,
enjoying life, regardless of disease.
Doing what needs to be done.
LORD LORD LORD
Seem like a heavy load,
has been lifted.
ii. Un Día de Octubre
For Robert Garcia
One October day
a day of symbols
Robert
on the street
unknowingly
took a turn left
On the ground
at the nations capital
native land of his ancestors
laid before him
pieces of cloth
the catalyst for change
He walked
ever so slowly
and it seemed as if the cloth
transformed his feet into needles
holding threads
each step a stitch
every sense awaken
As he stepped / stitched
this October day
his eyes filled with
colors of cloth telling stories
cloth for memories
cloth for lives
His eyes filled with
the lovers, friends, and families
people whom the cloth had also
transformed to needles
As they all stepped/stitched
his eyes filled with
tears
and he wept
in a circle
with friends
wept
a cleansing
for he was sure he had
recognized himself amongst the cloth
sure he heard his end song
10-11-87
numbers
no longer background noise
each step/stitch
he was certain
he had heard numbers
16 his 1st sojourn for $99
to the city of 7,000,000
6 the members of his family
1 the oldest boy a sister delivered
among queen of angles
3000 for the miles he was from home
2 the lesbian couple who took him
away for 3 days
building trust
548 Hudson the address of the gay and lesbian
bookstore where he worked
political lessons for free
At 25, 2 years after following the love of his life
back to the city of forbidden fruit
The numbers all added up
That
which he refused to own
chose
to own him
With no words spoken
you could hear him ask
“Padre porque me niegas mi lengua?”
“Father why take my tongue?”
With no words spoken
you could hear him ask
“Mother why deny me my culture?”
This son of the Navajo nation
this son of Mexico
who found himself gay
With no words spoken
no words
you could hear him scream
“OH GOD DON’T LET MY FRIENDS DIE!”
“PLEASE DON’T LET ME DIE OF AIDS!”
Choices made
he was ready
a ship with sails
catching the winds
to wherever they blew
ready for battle
The first gust landed him at the doors of
Sloane Kettering who had not used the money they
received for AIDS research
Then to the doors of ACT-UP
the wind strong transformed the
ship to tape fast forwarded
All the while
rocked in the bosom of his
lesbian sisters teaching
connecting the ism’s
He sat
central
to those whose anger took them to the streets
He sat chair of majority action
“Dealing with issues of all communities with AIDS.”
He found himself on the street of financial walls
chanting
“No more business as usual!” “No more business as usual!”
they locked him up
The word out his purpose
he works to get the word out
Robert is sex sex sex sex sex sex sex positive
his brothers keeper
trying to unlock the doors
looking for answers
questioning his passion
“Why me?” “Why me?”
“Why can’t there be more?”
“What will it take to move this mountain of ignorance and fear?”
Robert will show you everything
will talk about it
And like every Navajo code talker
who does battle
they too will say of him
“With a courageous heart you have fought!”
iii. Been On This Road
For Allan Robinson
allan
journeyman
wanderer
sage
first stepped on the road
a brown harlem baby
when his daddy and mama
sat him on clinton’s hill
to see the view
didn’t matter there were no
other brown harlem babies
they’d come
and it was always understood that
allan, having already seen the view
would tell other which way
on the road to go
change significant change
people making change
in ‘68 brought him to his first demo
they done gone on and killed
the prince of peace.
change significant change
“War no more!” “War no more!”
change people making change
got angela free
in ‘71 scented rooms filled with tea
the aftermath of man’s quest for love
posed a question which needed to be
answered and steered him to the
arms of friends in league who soothed
the rite of passage
he emerged a popular boy
full full of himself
allan
journeyman
wanderer
sage
on the road
in ‘82 was in court at
the first forum on aids
seemed like a temporary crisis
a good time for a spiritual creative sabbatical
hiking in the mountains
he went hiking
in ‘83 he had traveled much land
had even seen san franciscans lite
candles in vigil
he came home
to new york city streets
streets where he has been
a popular boy
and friends were
missing
or moved
and there were
waves of deaths
so shocking
no sickness nor lingering illness
just waves of death
all he could do was break down and cry
at a bar with two friends
trying to find humor in the horror
he suggested he write a play
titled “The Gay Dogfood Company.”
simple plot
they would ground up all the people who really
fucked with them
the medical establishment
racist gay bucks koch & reagan and turn them all into
canine and feline food
they thought it was a good idea
he went home and for the salutation wrote thirty words
no thirty names
but it read for hours
journeyman
wanderer
Sage
understanding co-factors
angry
frustrated
hungry for energy
registered his body
his eye on the mark
an advocates militant
understanding bridges that
had to be built and crossed
acted up
no locks could stop him
he acted up
even though his own body fluids
tested
could negate the reality of the day
what matter will we build this house?
a central question
what matter will we build this house?
and without even noticing the passing of time
he grew weary
limp like fallen leaves
after a winters storm
and that which was his birthright
life
he thought to take
wrote out in letters a farewell
no no this in no end for a journeyman
wanderer
sage
so he dreamed dreams
new realities
remembered trees
the joy of physical things
himself as a child
He let go of stuff which didn’t belong to him
envisioned himself a 80 year old man
stunning
surrounded by men in love
yes
he stay on the road
iv. H.E.A.L.-IN
For Cliff Goodman
Cliff
a good man
woke up one mornin’
angry
Realized
direct action had to be done
Cliff
is a quiet, quiet man
powerfully peaceful
Woke up
angry
Wanted to be counted
look at me
Was gonna make a difference
Cliff was angry
Wasn’t waitin’
Wasn’t waitin’ for no Supreme Court decision
Wasn’t waitin’
Wasn’t waitin’ for no Frederick/Malcolm/Martin/Jesse
Wasn’t waitin’
Wasn’t waitin’ for Lincoln/Kennedy/Dinkins
No three hundred years
Was gonna start
Heal-in’
Heal-in’ his soul
Wasn’t waitin’
Took to the streets
a member of the majority
ACT-IN’ up
Demanding
Better hospital care, housing, access to drugs
Demanding
dignity
Took to the streets
a black star shinin’
Wasn’t waitin’ for no back room dealing
Wasn’t puttin’ no faith in the government
Wasn’t waitin’ to be called on
Puttin’ African-American issues on the agenda of life
Cliff
a Goood-Man
Won’t sit while Wellcome wants to give AZT
to Black Wimmin – Latin Wimmin
and their babies
feels like more
Bad Blood
running through the veins of
our sisters
our mothers
our daughters
our lovers
us
no no wont no Burroughs be Wellcomed
Cliff
ain’t thinkin’ about diein’
is angry
on the streets – in Harlem
on the streets – in Bedford Stuyvesant
on the streets – in Newark
Is peaceful
Believes in true informed consent
Cliff
will tell you
______ call on Jesus
______ call on Buddha
______ call on Allah
But only if you callin’ to talk about livin’
Cliff will tell you
go to the doctor – but don’t stop there
go to the herbalist – but don’t stop there
go to the acupuncturist – but don’t stop there
don’t stop at nobodies door
cause you gotta keep movin’ – to keep livin’
Cliff
is spiritual
uses anger for therapy
is on the street
COUNTED – BLACK
COUNTED – GAY
COUNTED – PEACEFUL
COUNTED – HEAL-IN
COUNTED – ACT-IN’ UP
COUNTED – ALIVE
© B.Michael Hunter 1991