DEADLY JAMES (For All the Victims of Police Brutality)

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DEADLY JAMES (For All the Victims of Police Brutality) by J. A. Emanuel The killer-cops, the San Diego three, What made them think you deadly, James? I take their guilty heads into my arms; I cradle them, my tendons hush their eyes, illume them to see the years roll back: your little window, James, unsealed, your palomino rocking horse, his glassy eyes unquiet when the sudden blood that splashed his ivory mane told you the table knife you sucked on was different, could also spit upon the tawny rug breathtaking tracks-- deadly, James. I embrace their heads more tightly; their veins bulge to understand you, James, you, hardly old enough to run, dancing solitary in the Brooklyn rain, your older playmates dashed from, your arms and lips and laughter reaching up for all the sky could pour upon the rivers capering inside you-- deadly rivers, James? I hug their heads with strength I had saved for you, James; their eyeballs darken as they strain with me to find you practicing your saxophone, lying in the quilted heaps of your bed poked up around your stocking feet--the littered outpost of that father wilderness you made your room, “NO ENTRY” blazed across the door to guard your heartbeats when your golden horn believed its one-man note-- that wild, sweet loneliness you cried-- beguiling neighbors into forgiveness before you fumbled scales beginners know. You began at the top, James, Deadly. I clasp their heads more fiercely, empowered by the memory of you stranded where they bled you down into your smallest drop, gunhammers cocked and nighsticks sinewed-- all three bewildered to find beauty defiantly beyond them, a tiny, dark-brown flower: the grain of you James, erect, watered back to momentary life by your manful tears. In my iron arms their heads turned dry, drop hollow to the ground ... If your new, unearthly wisdom bids you, Raise them. But whenever you feel blood again, or rain, or music, pray your innocence be deadlier, James, much deadlier.

Full description

Poem written by Emanuel in 1985, addressing issues of police brutality and restoring justice to its victims. This poem was written in memory of his son James Emanuel Jr.

  • type
    Image
  • created on
  • file format
    jpg
  • file size
    638 KB
  • creator
    James A. Emanuel
  • rights
    James A. Emanuel Estate
  • rights holder
    James A. Emanuel Estate