A Poem For Sham
I imagine there is a special heaven
several chapters past the grey clouds in the tenor sky
where the mourning and pain of black life
is as distant as daybreak from moonlight
raindrops only fall on the first Sunday
to shower the stars in the sky
and happily and ever after always
embrace you after a long day’s journey
there has to be a special nirvana
with an unlimited supply of scripts and poetry
where brown boys get lost in words and quotes
where there flesh is as sacred
as ribbon wrapped around a thousand suns
and their dreams never dissipate to dust
or fall between the cracks of brick roads
that lead to nowhere.
There, in the glorious paradise,
they study Shakespeare and Beaty
and write haikus and free verse
in the resting place of God’s safety.
There has got to be a special paradise
where hearts grows wings
and disappointment swells into sweet rivers of daffodils
somewhere where all tears turn into slivers of silver
evaporating into a still and sacred sky
and there in that sweet by and by
where life has no deadlines or epitaphs or stormy weather
where death is a distant and unfamiliar shore
there
in that special mecca
with sorrow and salty tears
with questions and precious memories
will I look under every shamrock
until I can reunite with you again
my brother
my colleague
my friend
Sham.
