Body And Soul, Black America Reveals The

As A Poet And Writer, I Deeply Love And I Deeply Hate Words. I Love The Infinite Evidence And Change And Requirements And Possibilities Of Language; Every Human Use Of Words That Is Joyful, Or Honest Or New, Because Experience Is New... But As A Black Poet And Writer, I Hate Words That Cancel My Name And My History And The Freedom Of My Future: I Hate The Words That Condemn And Refuse The Language Of My People In America.

When That Devil's Bullet Lodged Itself Inside The Body Of Martin Luther King, He Had Already Begun An Astonishing Mobilization Of Poor, Black, White, Latino Americans Who Had Nothing To Lose. They Would Challenge Our Government To Eliminate Exploitative, Merciless, And War-mongering Policies, Nationwide, Or Else "tie Up The Country" Through "means Of Civil Disobedience." Dr. King Intended To Organize Those Legions Into "coercive Direct Actions" That Would Make Of Babylon A Dysfunctional Behemoth Begging For Relief. Is It Any Wonder He Was Killed?

Good Poetry And Successful Revolution Change Our Lives. And You Cannot Compose A Good Poem Or Wage A Revolution Without Changing Consciousness Unless You Attack The Language That You Share With Your Enemies And Invent A Language That You Share With Your Allies.

... The Histories Of Blacks And Jews In Bondage And Out Of Bondage, Have Been Blood Histories Pursued Through Our Kindred Searchings For Self-determination. Let This Blood Be A Stain Of Honor That We Share. Let Us Not Now Become Enemies To Ourselves And To Each Other.

I Am Not Wrong: Wrong Is Not My Name