Devil's Got a Lien on My Soul

                             By Rudolph Lewis

Can we be you and me more than

the photos I have taped to my wall

I toss & turn in the morning hours

with all this empty space between

us. You don’t hear me hollering

my stream has been dammed, hell

hounds got me walking the floor

The reverend with his Book can’t

let me be. I look out my window

there ain’t no leaves on the trees

My folks did the best they could

I need a gambling woman to take

this virgin dust from around my

door. The dawn breaks the night

& you ain’t knocking at my door

it’s that blue & evil spirit, deep

that won’t let me change my way

of living. There’s no place I got to

go. There’s no woman to make me

satisfied, to break it all down—to

make me lose this mind. Saturday

nights our bodies pressed together

hot & sweaty will not come again

*   *   *   *   *

Responses

Thanks Rudy for that piece reminiscent of Etheridge . . . & Jesse Alexander's "Pictures Came Out: Afrikan Street Festival" . . . strength to your writin' han' . . . easy.  –Eugene

That is one bad poem Rudy (smile).  I like it.  I was tempted to read it right away just because of it's title.  –Latorial

With resonances of Robert Johnson, Delta blues country, and Etheridge's "Ancestry," this is a lonesome, gut-wrenching poem that is sad and wonderful.  Also a touch of Marie Laveau with that dust around the door. Are you sure you don't have roots in the Mississippi mud? I like this poem very much.  –Miriam

Dear Rudy, I'm not sure what to make of this poem. It’s so dark. I hope you are not feeling this way. Just in case I think your heart is the warmest heart I've ever known. . . . none of your poems are just a poem. If that was true you wouldn't be considered a poet. – Sheila b

Devil got a lein on all our souls. He's got a 27.5 percent lein on mine and I can't even afford the interest. Well done poem. I love the line about a "gamblin woman" and "virgin dust." Nice contrast.  – amin sharif

Hey now Rudy, WOW, what a poem!  She must be something. – Mona Lisa

posted 28 December 2005