Here in Harlem: Poems in Many Voices

Here in Harlem: Poems in Many Voices — page 7

Here in Harlem: Poems in Many Voices — page 8 — Macon R Allen 38 Deacon I love a shouting church Praises bounding off the ceiling The rhythm catching up the feet Tambourines that send the spirits reeling Yes give me a shouting church A big sister wiping at her face Praising Jesus to a jump-up preacher As he hollers gospel on the way to grace Lord give me a shouting church Where everybody knows the end is coming fast And the righteous speak in tongues Saying Sinner don’t let this harvest pass Don’t give me no whispering church Don’t be mumbling nothing to my Lord You came in crying and you going out crying So don’t be holding back the word Oh Lord I love a shouting church Wake up Lazarus Wake up Paul Wake the congregation and lift their hearts If they don’t hear it now they won’t hear at all Oh I love a shouting church Can I get an A-men 5

Here in Harlem: Poems in Many Voices — page 9 — Henry Johnson 39 Mail Carrier Sitting inside Ray’s Barbershop Looking across the avenue I saw A little black man Sweat staining his underarms Glistening on his brow Fists pumping up the fire Of the noontime air Sweet cullud voice Soft as Sunday cotton Hard as Monday cropping Under a hell-hot Georgia sun Could be Marcus I said Could be Martin came a voice from down the way Sounds like Malcolm rang from the shadows Sitting inside Sylvia’s I saw A tall black man Singing about revolution And how the gentrified evolution Has brought about the devolution Of Songhai Mali and Timbuktu Grinning instead of winning Chicken instead of stickin 6

Here in Harlem: Poems in Many Voices — page 10 — To a righteous path Could be Marcus I said Could be Martin came a voice from down the way Sounds like Malcolm rang from the shadows Sitting inside the Victory Temple Church Of God in Christ I saw a black man rocking Preaching and teaching Calling for the congregation To bring forth a mighty nation That would be free at last That would put aside the blasphemous Sin of compromise Keep their eyes on the prize And their minds on bizness Could be Marcus I said Could be Martin came a voice from down the way Sounds like Malcolm rang from the shadows 7

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