There’s A Time 2 Laugh…There’s A Time 2 Cry

(a poem inspired by Nikki, a poem for Nikki and a poem for us all) 

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With “Quilting the Black-Eyed Pea” in hand   

I impatiently wait in line to get a signature that I couldn’t really care less about   

 

For what’s much more valuable to me are the words contained within   

And REALLY what I long to do is sit on a bench in Cal Johnson Park in the springtime just kickin’ it with Ms. Nikki   

 

Nevertheless, I approach the table feeling excited, yet just as inhibited and rushed as I feel when I visit a loved one in prison   

   

She greets me with that warm and beautiful smile   

Once again, I’m inspired   

   

You see,    

I see her smile as a weapon   

And I admire how she uses it, along with a force of humor and wit to combat the insanities of this world   

   

I mean, how brilliant is it to be able to protest insanities like Poverty, War, what happened to Emmett Till, Martin and Malcolm, C. Delores Tucker, Unpaid Reparations, 9/11, Politricks, sending a 19-year-old to the electric chair, Cancer, Envy, Inequality, Racism and on and on and on...   

  

And still make her point in her comical way that lets you know that it CAN be alright   

   

Just moments before, I am moved as her eyes fill with tears as she speaks about loving our Black men and what they were honorably trying to do on October 16, 1995   

 

“Why is it that every time somebody (especially our Black men) tries to do something beautiful, we want to laugh at him?”, says Nikki tearfully   

   

But no one seems to care when a mother cries anymore   

   

“Don’t be breakin’ down in front of folks, lettin’ ‘em think ya weak or done lost your mind.”   

 

So, women like Nikki and I are expected to keep our nature in check and take it like a man   

   

So, it’s a sign of strength to be hard and emotionless?   

  

I can hear Nikki sarcastically proclaim, “No, that’s what got us in this mess in the first place!”   

   

Mothers are emotional, compassionate, love unconditionally, and weep easily for their children here on earth and would do just the same for a green, bug-eyed, big-headed child from Mars   

   

This occurs instinctively    

Not by accident nor chance  

But definitely for a reason   

   

So, my eyes well up with tears right along with Nikki   

As I sit in this auditorium amongst a diverse bunch of folks here to listen, learn and be inspired –  I secretly long for her to incite a RIOT OF TEARS   

   

Maybe first starting with a whimper from someone in the crowd (maybe me)   

   

A sniffle here, then from over there   

   

The older gent in the front row seemingly clears a sudden something in his throat   

   

The two women begin to weep onto one another’s shoulders   

   

Then all out crying – some wailing wouldn’t hurt   

   

Then maybe, we’d march outside and take it to the streets    

   

First crying our pain to the gentleman in the suit innocently sitting in his car at the stoplight minding his own business    

 

He’d be hesitant to roll down his car window at first    

But eventually the tears would well up in his eyes ‘cause he’d know that  

 

IT WAS TIME  

 

Then like an uncontrollable flood, these weeping people (still led by Nikki) would seep into homes, businesses, shops, meetings, concert halls, art galleries, shelters, up to the top floors of corporate, cross the borders, into airports, throughout nations   

   

Bringing the already weeping homeless persons   

Bringing lost girls and boys   

Bringing drug dealers and their addicts   

Bringing the police and their prisoners   

Bringing the wealthy and the poor   

Bringing whites, blacks, Latinos, Asians, mulattos, and even Weeping Owl still dying on the reservation   

   

We’d flood the White House with snot and tears, forever ruining all those beautiful antiques and ‘things’ that have been cared for and preserved far better than our own every day, human lives   

   

You’d turn on the televisions and radio stations and all you’d see and hear would be crying, sobbing personalities repeating over and over,   

 

“It’s time”   

(sniff, sniff)   

“It’s time”   

   

Then the time would come, and the world’s attention would be on Ms. Nikki (who else?) preparing to address the world befittingly on the steps of the U.S. Capitol in DC   

 

There’d be a minor delay as they found a shorter podium mic to accommodate her (she’s not as tall as she thinks she is (wink))   

 

She’d pause for a moment as the crowd settled down and people passed the Kleenex

Their sobs quieted to whimpers then an occasional, uncontrollable sniffle or two   

 

She’d then wipe the last tear from her cheek, smile and say,   

  

“NOW DON’T YOU FEEL BETTER?” ​​