Belly Song: (For the Daytop Family)

"You have made something
Out of the sea that blew
And rolled you on its salt bitter lips.
It nearly swallowed you.
But I hear
You are tough and harder to swallow than most . . ."

--S. Mansfield

1

And I and I / must admit
that the sea in you
     has sung / to the sea / in me
and I and I / must admit
that the sea in me
    has fallen / in love
    with the sea in you
because you have made something
out of the sea
    that nearly swallowed you

And this poem
This poem
This poem / I give / to you.
This poem is a song / I sing / I sing / to you
from the bottom
    of the sea
      in my belly

This poem
This poem
This poem / is a song / about FEELINGS
about the Bone of feeling
about the Stone of feeling
    And the Feather of feeling

2

This poem
This poem
This poem / is /
a death / chant
and a grave / stone
and a prayer for the dead:
    for young Jackie Robinson
a moving Blk / warrior who walked
among us
    with a side / stride--and heavy heels
moving    moving    moving
thru the blood and mud and shit of Vietnam
moving    moving    moving
thru the blood and mud and dope of America
    for Jackie / who was /

a song
and a stone
and a Feather of feeling
    now dead
and / gone / in this month of love

This poem
This poem / is / a silver feather
and the sun-god / glinting / green hills breathing
river flowing--for Sheryl and David--and
their first / kiss by the river--for Mark and Sue
and a Sunday walk on her grand / father's farm
for Sammy and Marion--love rhythms
for Michael and Jean--love rhythms
love / rhythms--love rhythms--and LIFE

3

This poem
This poem
This poem
This poem / is / for ME--for me
and the days / that lay / in the back of my mind
when the sea / rose up /
    to swallow me
and the streets I walked
    were lonely streets
    were stone / cold streets

This poem
This poem / is /
for me / and the nights
    when I
wrapped my feelings
    in a sheet of ice
and stared
    at the stars
      thru iron bars
        and cried
in the middle of my eyes . . .

This poem
This poem
This poem / is / for me
    and my woman
    and the yesterdays
when she opened
    to me like a flower
but I fell on her
    like a stone
I fell on her like a stone . . .

4

And now--in my 40th year
    I have come here
to this House of Feelings
to this Singing Sea
and    I    and I    / must admit
that the sea in me
    has fallen / in love
with the sea in you
because the sea
that now sings / in you
    is the same sea
that nearly swallowed you--
    and me too.

Seymour, Connecticut
June 1971

Reprinted by permission of Broadside Press.

Etheridge Knight (1931-1991) is author of Poems from Prison, Belly Song and Other Poems, and Born of a Woman: New and Selected Poems.

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