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The Black Christ, & other poems

Chapter 50: Valedictory
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About This Book

A debut collection of formally polished poems that moves between intimate lyric and public meditation, exploring love, youth, mortality, faith, and racial identity. The poet employs sonnets and varied forms, classical and Christian imagery, and musical rhythms to examine personal feeling and communal injustice, sometimes elegiac, sometimes celebratory. Several pieces dramatize spiritual questioning and the cost of social servitude, while others reflect on beauty, art, and the paradoxes of pride and poverty. The result is a compact sequence blending technical restraint with vivid metaphor and moral concern.

Valedictory

No word upon the boarded page
That once in praise I spoke,
Would I in bitterness and rage,
Had I the power, revoke.
Take them and bind them to your heart,
With ribbon or with rue.
An end arrives to all we start;
I write no more of you.
Go then, adhere to the vows you make
Out of a haughty heart;
No more to tremble for my sake
Nor writhe beneath the smart
Of hearing on an alien tongue
Tolled lightly and in play,
The bell by which our lives were rung,
The bell we break today.
Love ever was the brightest dream
My pen might seize upon;
Think not I shall renounce the theme
Now that the dream is done.
We are put by, but not the Bow,
The Arrows, and the Dove.
Though you and I go down, still glow
The armaments of love.
The essence shines devoid of form,
Passion plucked of its sting,
The Holy Rose that hides no worm,
The Everlasting Thing.
Though loud I cry on Venus’ name
To heal me and subdue
The rising tide, the raging flame,
I write no more of you.
Rare was the poem we began
(We called it that!) to live,
And for a while the measures ran
With all the heart could give.
But, oh, the golden vein was thin,
Early the dark cock crew;
The heart cried out (love’s muezzin):
I write no more of you.