Three Poems by Charlie Braxton
Breaking Between Two Worlds
(Jesus at the Crossroads)
And it came to pass
That the son of man
Was called down to
The crossroads
Where the loa of
The dead and
The spirit of the undead
Meet in the sweet
By and by to try
And test the cool
Of those who dare
To walk the walk
Of the crossroad way
And break
Between the beats of
Mortal and gods
Seek/in the holiness
Of wisdom past
And wisdom present
Embodied in the
orishas of that
old time religion
yeah jesus went
down to the old
rugged cross-
road to dance between
two worlds
his holy body breaking
to the beat of a music
loud enough to shake awake
the black saints of old
marching onward
like majestic warriors
chanting
in/to the hot dark delta night
(loa legba, loa legba, loa lega)
May the circle
be unbroken
by and by lord
by and by
and all the while
eshu watches the waning of the west
and elegba look longingly
to the east
admonishing jesus
to seek ye first
the holy kingdom
of ashe’
and all other wisdom
will be added on/in/to you
yo son of man
the choice is yours
you can get with this
or you can get with that.
Rockstar Jesus
And on the third night
Jesus wept
His tears a bittersweet
Mixture of blood and sweat
Flowed like the river nile
Staining the urban concrete
Streets crimson red
With the anguish of his undying love
Screaming:
“Father o’ Father why
Have you forsaken them
In their hour of dire need”
But there was no answer
coming from the cool cruel streets
of south central
only the faint sound of
gunshots, screams and broken glass\
echoing throughout the city
so the sun of man turn his back
on the night and took a hit
from the glass pipe
and now jesus is a rockstar touring
the ho-stroll
looking for a strawberry toss-up
to wash his weary feet
before his next craving
comes crashing down
like the wailing walls
of Jerich0.
Jesus on the RTD
Yesterday
While riding the rtd
Jesus Christ appeared to me
Suddenly
Like the physical manifestation
Of my third eye
Apparently he was
Still looking for lost souls
To feed
The secret words of sacred power to
All alone the son of man sat
On a seat next to the
Window side
His bloodshot eyes forever fixed on
The direction of the rising sun
Singing:
“to the east my brother
to the east…”
but few people caught the wisdom
of his holy words
because few people cared
enough to hear
or either they were too scared
to listen
so the savior
having been reject for a third time
stopped off at the next stop
to cast his pearls elsewhere
[author_info]Charlie Braxton is a writer, hip hop journalist, poet and author. Braxton has contributed to a number of publications, including The Source, Vibe, Murder Dog and The Washington Post. He is the co-author of Gangsta Gumbo with Jean-Pierre Labarthe (Camion Blanc Press 2012). He is the author of two volumes of verse, Ascension From the Ashes (Blackwood Press, 91) and Cinders Rekindled (Jawara Press, 2012). His poetry has appeared in several literary anthologies including Bum Rush the Page: The Def Jam Poetry Anthology, Trouble the Waters and In the Tradition[/author_info]
[…] stumbled across a few poems by Charlie Braxton this morning, on Specter Magazines website. They are from a little over a year ago, but that’s the beauty of art, it is always relevant. […]