Invisible to Whom?: Poetic Responses to Invisible Man Black Bird
In celebration of the seventieth anniversary of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, The Studio Museum in Harlem, the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, and Cave Canem commissioned three ekphrastic poems on the novel and Elizabeth Catlett’s sculpture Invisible Man: A Memorial to Ralph Ellison (2003). The commissioned poets include Cameron Awkward-Rich, Kadeem Gayle, and Lorelei Williams.
In addition to these poems, on March 1, 2023, Ellison’s birthday, the public program “Invisible to Whom? A Dialogue in Verse" will feature the poets in discussion at the Schomburg Center.
Elizabeth Catlett, Invisible Man: A Memorial to Ralph Ellison, 2003
“We were just kids..it felt like the end of the world..they will find a way to put a bruise on you”
~ Chaos and Cruelty in Louisiana Juvenile DetentionCenter,
”“Everywhere I've turned somebody has wanted to sacrifice me for my own good...at what point do we stop?
~ Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man
i.
ripped sheet rope rings my throat
I leap and lean into the wide white
wing and fly
this one joy I claim
my last breath my own
now you will know my name
the veil is thin, then gone
in this place I can be loud
wild, freed, fierce and seen
too late to cut me down
the guards dig a dawn grave
spit and swear no one will miss me
but you write down my name
(conjure) me back in black print
let me speak so the rest can live
ii.
I was twelve my first year in this hell
called New Hope where they hide
girls like me: broke, Black, too free
Deuce, 13, stole a cell phone
Jazz, 14, stabbed her stepdad
Meek, 15, sold keef to a narc
I did not know Blue stole the car
just that they were fine and it was fun
to ride shotgun, top down, on Oak Street
cops chased us through five red lights
shot Blue point blank dead
booked me for grand theft
the judge sent us all to this jail
his friend built, got paid for each bed filled
told my mom she raised a thug
iii.
when you come they trade your name
for code strip search thumb print
barb wire, red peels, steel cot
the walls bleed we are home
sick cry for days lose our
songs can’t breathe head spin
spell of psych meds blurs ache
in time I come to crave the pills
that melt on my tongue like Pez
iv.
first time a guard rapes me
I’m too scared to scream he takes
me in the back room I can not sit for weeks
he comes each week, snaps nude pics
chokes me in blind spots till I pass out
chains me to pipes, writes my name on his thigh
four months turn to two years
in this cage I grow tits learn to trade
tricks for food hooch books
they make us fight for sport drill
us to be hard take hits crack
bones pin us to the floor
black-eyed blues ooze blood Black skins
bruise plum with welts when I feel
like dirt I write kites, dream of birds
v.
I miss my mom but it's too far for her
plus she has to work phone calls cost
a tusk so we just talk on (birthdays) now
we earn 13 cents an hour to stitch sheets
pads cost too much so we bleed through peels
sick off our stink guards hose us down like dogs
I get sent to the hole raw days blur to weeks
too long to count I’m not the same
when they let me out
at what point do we stop?
vi.
when you broke the news that I died
my name made front page with two more like me
Deuce drank bleach, Jazz jumped off the
roof we had to die to be seen
we are three of 64 (suicides) at New Hope in two years
plus 91 kids who ran to the woods
when dogs tracked them back, they
begged for psych wards, grown up jails
any where but here
folks been known New Hope’s sins
once a nurse snitched on the sick shit guards did
but the jail den forced kids to lie
bucked state rules, bribed OIG, fixed cell logs
sealed files so New Hope got no charge, no fines
no one else talked till you inked proof
vii.
now they know my real name: Eve
born June 16 Ray and Trina’s girl from State Street
string bean bow-legged box braids praline
firebrand sweet tooth loved to blade, write and rap
only child easy smile liked to dance wild streak
locked up age 12 gone at 14
viii.
dig up my bones and say my name
let go my limbs and let me fly
now I got wings I ride the wind
go set the others free
say their names while they still live
close the jails and let us breathe
Lorelai Williams Poetry Bio
Lorelei Williams
Lorelei Williams is a poet, philanthropic strategist, and proud mama. She currently serves as Executive Director of the Warner Music Group/Blavatnik Family Foundation Social Justice Fund and has spent her career committed to Black liberation and social justice movement building across the United States and African Diaspora. Williams’s writings have appeared in Essence, Meridians, Feminism, Race and Transnationalism, and African Voices, and in the anthologies Be the Dream (Algonquin Books, 2003); Beyond the Frontier: African-American Poetry for the 21st Century (Black Classic Press, 2002); Cave Canem III (Black Classic Press); and Guerreras y Cimmaronas (University of Houston Arte Publico Press, 2012). She is a graduate of Yale and Harvard universities and a member of the inaugural class of Cave Canem poets.