- variations on a theme from Wallace Stevens

One                                                                                                                                                     For as much as one man can muster to match her many moods                                   

she is every woman

Two                                                                                                                                                The way to capture the attention of a black woman is to quietly sit and listen to her sing;                 

The second she stops to prune her feathers - pounce and grab hold of her wings                    

Three                                                                                                                                                   The black woman is like the black bird; one perched on a wire casts a long shadow                       

But when they all flock together, the cloud they form can easily block out the sun           

Four                                                                                                                                               Her womb holds the secrets of civilization;                                                                                    

The very reason a true archeologist is born, not made 

Five                                                                                                                                               

Her eyes are mirrors that reflect a light deeper than a shallow soul;                                                  Some believe the source to be deep in space radiating from a black hole

Six                                                                                                                                               Some scientists say its golbal warming, but her hot flashes have nothing to do with El'nino                       But she is the reason that nature and the sea are rising 

Seven                                                                                                                                                   I was on the verge of saying something profound                                                                           When she walked into the room                                                                                         

Eight                                                                                                                                      

      As I have stated before, many thieves and pirates                                                                          Have tried to escape with her priceless treasures 

Nine                                                                                                                                            There is a distinct difference in the attitude of a domestic cat with nine lives                               

And a black panther who would rather kill than be killed 

Ten

  This one is a secret I will take to my grave

Eleven                                                                                                                                         There is History, and there is HerStory

And she too repeats herself, first as tragedy, then as a poem of glory

Twelve                                     

She is wonderfully made and designed to glorify the Almighty                                                    

And to accent the flaws of man 

Fourteen

The same way an elevator goes from the twelfth floor to the fourteenth                                   

Never agree to a blind date on Friday the thirteenth  

Copyright 2008                                                                                                                   

Nathan M. Richardson

An excerpt from the collection of love poems You are the Subject