Like Rousseau by Amiri Baraka | Poems Rethabile Likes

Like Rousseau by Amiri Baraka | Poems Rethabile Likes

Like Rousseau

by Amiri Baraka

She stands beside me, stands away,
the vague indifference
of her dreams. Dreaming, to go on,
and go on there, like animals fleeing
the rise of the earth. But standing
intangible, my lust a worked anger
a sweating close covering, for the crudely salty soul.

Then back off, and where you go? Box of words
and pictures. Steel balloons tied to our mouths.
The room fills up, and the house. Street tilts.
City slides, and buildings slide into the river.
What is there left, to destroy? That is not close,
or closer. Leaning away in the angle of language.
Pumping and pumping, all our eyes criss cross
and flash. It is the lovers pulling down empty structures.
They wait and touch and watch their dreams
eat the morning.

Poet: @AmiriBaraka
Online: @PoetryFoundation
Book(s): @AbeBooks


Comments

Abigail George said…
Love is necessary as much as disturbance. Perhaps all art is birthed from the source of pain, from heartache. Loneliness is loneliness is loneliness but I could also read between the lines and almost sense female solitude and the alienation that exists in the human condition of our world.
Rethabile said…
"Love is necessary as much as disturbance."
I doubt any type of genuinely expressive art can be without it.

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