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A Valentine for Angela

A Valentine for Angela

by E Maria Shelton Speller

(The recipient is Angela Davis and the sender is George Jackson)


When you see Angela

Give her this... Valentine


Tell her

No code of morals

Or pastoral sermons of redemption 

in bastions of struggle 

Nor private language

Or puritanical divinity 

from the tyrannical gatekeepers 

of black consciousness

in Baptist Churches

Where the house of God

like the people are falling 

and bibles are missing

countenances are broken

and carriages are bent 

on Grandfathers 

huddled like old horses

in Chapel basements

can keep her locks from draping

my thrilled skin


I felt the linguistics of freedom

without right-wing caveats 

and the sophistical footnotes

of kept intellectuals

when Black Power waxed

the center of my tower 

and the bottom of your well

farther than this cell

and closer than holding you 

in my arms now


I found the status quo

on endless streets with names 

and no names

we neglect or accommodate


In a sound dream

on spots

we smother 

or straddle

We are a sexual coterie


I wanted to indict you for voluntary servitude

buying part and parcel of our own existence

like exploitation bought 

and exploitation sold

back to the exploitable...

with a shameless display 

of unnecessary needs and haughty miens

napping, unconscious, and folded 


Like Black parents

who cannot recognize their children

Hiding inside androgynous clothing

Reciting the lines of criminal poets 

perverting language that appeals to them

Black Panthers in proletariat-drag

when Heidegger said,

The dreadful has already happened!   


Tell her...


is an effete dilettante

living life inside a penthouse

longing to be outside in the crackerbox 

raping after he was free

Down with the masses!

Up with the bourgeoisie!



came to the Party shouting,

"I am a rapist!"

"I [am] a patriarch!"

Power was not concept

abstract or privilege

for Eldridge

His last contribution 

will be the design

of cock pants


and Bobby 

is a politician

with idealistic intentions 

running for the Mayor of Oakland

loyal to the Patriarchs

that bound and gagged him

in the courtroom


Elaine Brown

confused pussy with power

will deny 

Huey beat her down

and ran her out of town

in her red Mercedes Benz...


Hide your guns from Jonathan 

My brother is poised for Fatalism


Suicidal ideations are necessary considerations 

when voluntary death is a blow against 

excessive regulations

The gun...

is justification

for the enigma 

of an absurd existence

when God is dead

like Nietzsche and Sartre said...

and heaven is empty 


When you see Angela

Give her... this Valentine


Your status in the ballroom

on that intellectual runway

Does not resemble

the place we found

Bring me back from Limbo...

Your breath is shallow


Your pulse is faint

The ring is dark

The tower is steep

The well is deep...

Are you coming too?


I am waiting

in this din

pacing the floor in my 9 x 4

in absolute solitude

wanting you, you, you, 



Copyright ©2004 by Elaine Maria Shelton Speller

Explode:  Epic Poetry