For Rich Bartee

By Louis Reyes Rivera

             Harlem...
             Harlem Heartbeat!
             Harlem...
             Harlem heartbeat!

             He came from a Syracuse cell
             defending the rights of breath
             a black cop
             refusing to beat up on his own
             fists pounding down
             the spirit of our youth
             nightsticks flailing
             over the musty odor of jail
             precincts built atop
             the bones of our birth
             the sounds of runaway souls
             caught in the snare
             of snarling hate locked in pens of cellbar mad
             wailing down the corridors of hell
             & for his refusal was himself
             beaten & jailed
             fired & fined
                                  don't you be diggin' me no grave
                                  don't you be diggin' me no grave
                                  I'm not dead/did you hear what I said
                                  don't you be diggin' me no grave...
             & so it was that
             Rich Bartee was chased onto
             the streets of Harlem

             Thirty years
             a singer of slogans
             uplifting pride like
             a ride on the D Train
             a limerick with rhymes of simple praise
             his poetry like the potential
             that is born in every soul
             sold like the spirit of our claim
             unlimited & bursting full of hope
             inducing smiles as warm as summer nights
             his eyes brown like the leaves of fall
             reminding you it is love that we seek
             it is love we seek, Bartee
             the heartbeat of Harlem
             spreading joy & affirmation.

             Harlem...
             Harlem Heartbeat!
             Harlem...
             Harlem heartbeat!

*   *   *   *   *

For information call: 718 622 4426 or 212 929 2241  or contact: Louisreyesrivera@aol.com