TABLE OF CONTENTS

Editorial: Seek Matters...ccccesecccerecccsccessseseccessecescsesesook
A Profile of Aijaz Ahmad..
7th Avenue Line Paradise Lost.....+
Take the Lexington to Some Real Central Park

Harlem On My Mind: Reaction to an Exhibitess.ccoc-coccecesccccccssesed
We Blew A Good BESBRES Ra thea teens ENE
Who Am I,....ee0e
Beauty

Poema del AMOr LEjand,...ccccccccccccereccssescscccccsscececscesesesed
Day In, Day Out,,.
Saturday Night,
Confrontation
Dig It

(0). ccccccccccccccccccccsceveveccccevecsccccceccoscescecces svcevcnekd
Boricua, Defiéndet
The World of the Young,
The Queen's Lament....ccccccscccsccsccccccscccccccsescscescsccececeelO
Aliafia Queen

Growing Up, Ghetto Style,...ecesesee cceeeek?
I Thugged Your Dark, Tw: le
Whatever Turns You On,...seesseeeeee
Paranoia In the Halls of Seek,
TWo FaceS,....seccecsecssecs
Juke Box - Off the Record,
Black Lov cesccccsccccccececccscvcccvecseeccssccessecseessesevesseseed
Fear Was His First Born
BitCernes8,...ececccccccccoccscccccocseccccscsscsscessescesseseseseslO
There Are Times That I Feel

The Experience While Highs....cssserees
The Key Is In the Sunlight in the Windowe--scescessececeeecccceceset2®
Silent Moment

Di spossesseds...ccccccccsccccccccccccccccccccccceccocscccceccececees?9
To See or Not to See

errr rr erty



This first issue of the University Center
literary magazine is gratefully dedicated
to the SEEK Advisory Council, who worked
so hard and so devotedly on behalf of

our educational community,

No part of thie publication may be reproduced
without the express permission of the Authors.


SEEK MATTERS: IT'S YOUR THING

What has happened on the Seek University campus is uniques

The concept of student=faculty involvement is being implemented,

It has created channels by which we might bridge the difficulty

of speaking to one another with one voice. It shows others our ability
to cope with Seek matters in a cooperative spirit,

Our new interim director, Aijaz Ahmad, provides an image which
meets our needs, With a strong administration which holds our
trust we can perform before those powers who observe our Seek University
in transition; Seek Matters}

Now what needs to be faced, realized, is what Seek University Center
means to use In search of an answer a few students have put together
what we hope will meet with your approvale Seek Matters}

Tt's your thinge

EDITOR
ED VARGAS

EDITORIAL BOARD

MELANIE PLA
OLIVE POINTER
LAVERNE REAVIS

TECHNICAL STAFF

LAURA BEN

REGINA WDOWIAK
RENEE ALLEN

ART DIRECTORS
WALTER CASTLE
WILFREDO RIVERA
GEORGE PORRETTO
SEEK UNIVERSITY CENTER
FACULTY ADVISORS
Spring JAMES WEISS
1969 MARIE LEDERMAN
DAVID GERSHATOR

-l-


May 1969

A Profile of Ai

On April 18, 1969, excitement prevailed,
‘he office of Director of Seek University
Center came under close inspection, the
student-faculty coalition manuvers pressed
lightly, but directly to replace

Dr. Irving Branman, By mid-afternoon the
circle closed in, Around 12:30, in the
Fiesta Room, Seek students stood grow=
ing restless, irritable, The fuse burned
to its end.

While Irving Sranman acdressed the
faculty, curious onlookers pushed one
another,

“I know what you are feeling...", student
cut in screaming "Yeab.., we know,
Bran.ees"e Noise drowned out Dr.
Branman's voice, Just then a tall sleek,
figure stood up, with both haucs spread
out like and eagle an‘ said... “Hey,
quiet people, let's take it easy."

Then he turnee around facing [r, Brannan
ano said, “br, Branman, these students
are most unhappy due to the useless
bickering. Nothing has been cone to
satisfy the demands to any <cgree. I've
come here as an observer and speak as a
faculty member whose sympathy lies with
tne students dilemma,"

with these simple words the student-
faculty coalition=-plus one "took the

bull by the horns" giving themselves

and University Center a chane to con=
struct a feaeible solution,

Yhis chance has been personified in the
form of Aijaz Ahmad,

Few people had ever noticed this un-
ebtrusive-Jooking man, who was born

in Dehra bun, india, about ninety miles
away from what is known Loday as the
capitol of New Delhi, After a thorough
high school educat.on, the Abmad family
sojourncd to Pakistan, in 1955, At the
age of ninetecon he earned his M.A, at
Punjab university in West Pakistan,

and much later at Columbia University

in 1968, He has been teaching reg-
ularly on the Seek Program of the City
University of New York since 1968,

first in association with the program

at City College, ‘hen he was trans-
ferred to Seek University Center where
we have come to know and respect him

as our Interim Director; he bus often

-2-

lectured in Pakistan and extensively in the
U.S.A. Aijaz Ahmad has written, and published,
poems, articles and stories in the Urdu
language, and he has also written English
translations of his native poetry. In the
past he's been given the task of translating
the works of prominent literary men, We,

the students, have reviewed his credentials
and find him an asset to SESK University
Center.


7TH AVE, LINE PARADISE LOST/

TAKE THE LEXINGTON TO SOME REAL CENRAL PARK
girl lady baby queen what can I call you
to let you know
the peacock feathers in your hand
make an exploding wand
peeking at me with giant
shameless eyes
inviting me to unknown underground paradise
where queens don't let me sleep
and I am stained eternally by their exotic dyes--
I don't care if you got them cut-rate
from a peacock feather peddler on 14th street-=-
their huge eyes surrounded
by giant lashes
draw me into the secret
overheated chambers of the queen of the subway
in her mating mood
and I don't know if I'm black or white
or hindu anymore
or if by staring hard
I'm turned into the mask of a rainbow
following the stained glass feathers
of a goddess
that somehow got stuck in your hands
and ended up across the way from me
legs crossed, masic at hand,
all the memories of mental summers

rotating under wafting fans

“DAVE GERSHATOR
23~


HARLEM ON MY MIND:

The exhibition was a feeble attempt at show-
ing Harlem for what she really is. There
were many faces shown; however, what is not
easily seen or what cannot be understood upon
a glance or a mere walk through Harlem was
not shown, One would have to look under the
surface of Harlem in order to realistically
exhibit her to others, One would also have
to have lived or live in Harlem in order to
present a true picture of her. To love
Harlem is to understand her -- to hate Harlem
is to understand her --to fear her -= to need
her, To hate Harlem is to also abuse her --
for she has many good points about her!

The exhibition mistreated Harlem terribly.
Harlem was presented as a happy community

in which conditions were once bad; hcwever,
at present things are looking up. This is
not in the least bit true.

- Diane Crosson

Was Harlem On My Mind really on my mind?
This was the major question that was thrown
into perspective when I left the exhibit
at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I
couldn't identify with any one or thing

at the exhibit. What happened to Spanish

Harlem? None of my “boys" were there,

I can't look at any of the photos presented
say, "Now I know how my race migrated and
faced their problems in this white city,"

- Wilfredo Rivera

In Harlem today there are Puerto Ricans living,

which was something which the exhibit excluded
completely. There was no sign of any Puerto
Rican or Spanish culture in Harlem, Beside
the Black man in Harlem the Spanish man is
found, which means to me that the Black
people aren't the only ones who have any

sign of culture in Harlem. There are

Spanish writers and artists, I object to

the idea of having to think of Harlem as

just an all-Black community because, taking

a good look at Harlem, it is clear that Harlem
is divided in two: the Black man's and the
Spanish man's community.

- Olga Perez

whe

and

REACTIONS TO AN EXHIBIT

Others, including myself, left with the font
of disgust and anger, for so much was left
out to reveal the real truth of what is
happening with the Black people today:

their desire to pull themselves out of the
rut they have been bonded to for so many yea:
their fight for freedom, equality and better
living conditions, their suffering, being
degraded and humiliated with the mark of
being inferior to the White man, I know thi
exhibition is an experimental one, but I
cannot excuse the fact of its poorly put
together structure, The planners of the
exhibition should have taken more time in
planning and research,

~ Emna Grier

The Harlem On My Mind exhibit at the
Metropolitan Museum of Art was very
interesting. As a former resident of
Harlem, this exhibit showed me Harlem
before I was born, It didn't,however,
show all of the factors of Harlem that
make it worthy of atu exhibit at the
Metropolitan Museum of Art.

~ Renee Allen

There was an ad featuring "Black Patti
Troubadours," a song and dance act, Under
this ad stood the words "30 of the most
talented singers, dancers, vaudevillists
and refined colored fun-makers under the
sun, All new features the very incarnation
of mirth, melody, music and darkey fun,"
As I watched the faces of the Whites view-
ing this picture, there was an artful grin
situated on the face of each, Well, I
don't blame them, for "refined colored
fun-makers and darkey fun" would fracture
my state of sedation, and my sense of
humor would spill out all over the museum,
But to Black viewers, nobody wants to
live an unfortunate event, even if this
was Harlem, Blacks are trying to eliminate
“colored” and "darkey" from their vocabular:

- Harold Carr



On the walls opposite the tall white passage, on
huge photographic blow-ups recline a human
interplay of unbroken pride. Wails, be-bop
stride embrace me. The genuine heart tick

of the "Earth People" praising their mellow
brother. Black soldiers march down Lexington
Avenue in Khaki brown uniforms displaying
their patriotism, Then the wide screen

opens on another blow-up, revealing Harlem's
Ren. nce in musical explosion, Bang!

Bang: Harlem's showplace of the early thirties
spring forth, Familiar personalities pop

on! Duke Ellington, Ethel Waters, Louis
Armstrong. Golden boys and girls together.
These are the firecracking, waggling-tail
times, Things happen on large areas of
pleasure, Hundreds of tar-baby chippies,
jelly-roll thighs, caramel lips. Stomping

at the Savoy.

-Edwin Vargas

Harlem on whose mind? Tiis "pictorial
history" is misleading in its over-
simplification of the socio-economic bonds
that tie Blacks to ghettoes, Depending
upon the unique interpretation of the
individual, the exhibit can ease the
guilt of a white conscience and simul-
taneously pacify the temperament of a
white racist. In either case, it creates
an atmosphere foreign to the ghetto,

“Regina Wdowiak

All in all, the exhibit
reality of Harlem, Mr.
museum have presented a
tale with, of course, a
ends with smiling faces conveying to the
viewer a feeling of calmness, The viewer
I am referring to is the white middle-
class who happily swallows the exhibit

at face value. They fail to look beyond
because they don't want to concern them-
Selves, Harlem On My Mind has only
reassured them that there is no need for
concern,

fails to show the
Hoving and his

beautiful fairy-
happy ending. It

- Barbara Namias, “5

So, where did the rest of my community
disappear to? The middle-class Negro,
blacks involved in organized crime such
as numbers and narcotics, pimps, pros-
titutes, musicians, artists and even the
self-help programs have all suddenly be-
come non-existent. And where did Police
neligence, Sanitation neglience anc the
pawnbroker suddenly hide? Consequently,
what is there of the Harlem culture that
surrounds these different aspects of the
community in the exhibit Harlem On My
Mind? Nothing,

I would say that the larger part of the
blood pulse and way of life of the com-
munity have been missed by the makers of
this exhibit, Why should I go to the
museum to reread the newspapers?

- David Rivera



WE BLEW A GOOL THING
There once was a Black Christ, Who gave all the Brothers
and Sisters all they needed.
He made us from the rich fertile soil of the earth
YET
We ended up working the land,
He blessed us with beautiful bodies:
AND
We used it for stud and call service,
He made us mathematicians
HELL
Ne ended up as number runners,
Ke anointed our heads with oil

BUT
didn't we straighten things out?

He supplied us with the Law of Medicine
BANG
We shot in our veins,
He said: Let there be light!!!
ANF We SAID:
Con Edison, did you hear that baby?

He Said: Seek and Ye shall find; when we found He hac the power
we set fire to his righteous behind.

He never got a minute’s rest for we always had a "last request"
© Lord, she cried: Send my man back to me}!!

0 Lord, just ‘let me hit this 603!!!

0 lord, please forgive me for this here sin!!!

© Lord, please let me get on my feet again!!!

We all had chances to be a Prince or a King

But let it be known we Blew A Good Thing!!!

All Praises Due to Allah

‘ - Ronald Watford


Who Am I

I am a person too complex, I beleive,

to be adequately recorded or described
on paper, Consequently, at best I

can only give a brief synopsis of my
experiences in living which have con-
tributed to my present stete of existence
and mind, In this way I vay be able

to convey some small insisht into what
has caused me to become individualistic,
angry, critical and not too concerned
about approval or condonation of

others,

I am an only child, My childhood and
adolescent experiences were not shared
with my parents or anyone else, My
community was basically middle class

and I instinctively did not fit into
their social framework, I also never
"learned" to be middle class, At the
ase of seventeen 3 found myself addicted
to heroin, I stopped using heroin in
nineteen sixty-four and the main

aspects of may development took place
from then until rhe present.

Having been addicted, beine black

in a middle class section of the chetto
and having felt the consequences of man's in=
humanity toman, I have had to develop
my own set of values and means of struggle.
Consequently, I exist alone, in contact
with other peonle, I believe in no
fuper-netural beings and deol completely
with the here and now, I think for
myself and am not involved in many

of the social myths people maintain

for their existence, I encounter some

external difficulties as a result; B°AUTY
however, I am internally in eccord :
with myself, Oh you weak and feeble men
Who seek and lust for ‘air women,
“David Rivera Know you not thet this is a trap

For those who are fair only rap.

It is said that those who have

more fun

Must have hair as yellow as the sun,
But men and women have yet to learn
That beauty is that which is earned

No man can evet truly say
That he has seen a beautiful being,
For the essence of true beauty
Lies in that which is unseen,

-Rose Mitchell

-7-


POEMA DEL AMOR LEJANO

En la fresca brisa de la noche

Llegan hasta mi mente atormentada

El dulce recuerdo de un amor lejano,

Mis noches, frias y vacfas desde su partida,
Anhelan nuevamente su presencia,

Todo mi ser palpita y se estremece

Al recordar las horas felices que pasamos,
Sus manos presas de las m€as;

Mis labios bebiendo en el manantial
Cristalino y refrescante de su boca,
Nuestros cuerpos unidos en un abrazo

Lleno de ternura, de pasi6n y éxtasis,
Nuestras almas libremente comunicando

El mensaje poderoso y silencioso del amor,
zPor qué te has ido de repente de mi vida?
2Qué horizontes nuevos tus ansias ahora buscan?
ePor qué tus promesas has roto de amarme sin medida?
1Vuelve a mf, amor de mis amores!

tRegresa a llenar este vacfo tan inmenso

Que tu ausencia ha dejado en mi existencia!
jVuelve otra vez a alumbrar mis dfas!

1Regresa nuevamente a extasiar mis noches!

- Sacul Otrebor Ozir

8.


Day In, Day Out

Walking on a nacrow sidewalk, you get the feeling of trash, sme . bad
© dors, with stabbing and robbery surrounding you, As you keep on walking, you
notice a precinct in the middle of the block, Cops are standing around telling
the young kids, "Get lost; stop disturbing us."

Further down, you see broken- own buildings that have police lines surround-
ing them, But there are the junkies who ignore the lines and go through the
buildings.

Walking further on, you hear the screams of a woman, A man stops and asks
her, "Madam what's wrong?" The lady answers, "One of those lousy junkies just
stole my purse," With this happening, a commotion starts, Whe is to follow
the junkie without knowing who he is? But ail come to a conclusion, "Lady forget
it; he is gone,"

On and on you walk and all that surrounds you is the dirt, trash, garbage
cans overflowing and cats and dogs running wild in the streets, You make a right,
in front ofthe market, The old man sells rotten food to the people for a living,
not knowing the day he will die for selling rotten food, Some people dare to
protest; others don't, wait} Here's one man who does not like the idea of being
sold poor food, He tells the old man, "Either I get good meat or my money back,"
The old man insists that the meat is good, won't give the money back, and is
stabbed,

At the sight of blood, women scream, kids holler, the place swarms with
cops, You hear the sirens miles away, The man gets arrested and pushed into
the wagon, The ambulance arrives, but the old man never makes it to the
hospital.

This you see and hear all around you at evcry corner, every street day in, day
out, the same routine all year round,

~ Celia Mariani

“I=


Saturday Night

Just got home from work
Tired as hell:

Music going, kids playing
Franks and beans for supper

To hell with Saturday night...
I'm hungry

- Patricia Gilbert

Dig It

Got to keep moving

hove, don't stop

Can't afford to

Stay within the mainstream of a constant
source of direction

Self

Hove}

Pick up the direction

Then step up the pace

Agony, pain, frustration

Again, but this time harder

This time self (isolation, direction)

loneliness, bitterness, searching and fears

Walking on slender threads of fears

Regard fate and reality ae comparisons of bullshit

To begin at the break of daybreak

Now awaken unto yourself and do it baby
Make it happen!

Dig it!

- Ronald Booker

Confrontation

We were hereditary enemies; it had been so
decreed long before our births, They could
have looked upon me with hate and fear and
confidence; I looked upon them with loathing,
contempt, confidence and hate . . . and

fear, a dreadful fear, Our armaments were equa
matched: they spread, or helped to spread,

or were around filth and disease, They
reminded me of slimy, greasy, heavy, warm,
choking Castor Oil. They sickened me, and

1 always killed them as quickly and noisily

as I could, to erase the memory of them, Yet
as they died, my soul revolted at the slaughter
and in a few spaces of time, more of their
breed would appear, and the battle would
continue,

They were two, possibly the same, possibly
not. They and I revolted each other, and

they thought of me as insignificant, Me!

A portion of my brain opened upon Ali Baba's
verse to his mecinical slab, and my wall went
up again, They had once again treaded upon my
domain in their never ceasing search; but I
had trapped them once more...My machine; made
by others, was turnec on, and it did its job,
and it didn't give a damn, They died, and my
wall was lowered a bit, and the battles would
continue; and we wouldn't talk because our
leaders said it was too late; and we had never
taken time to learn a common language anyway;
and they would be slaughtered till I lost my
mind and someone else would take my place;

and we will all listen to our leaders...

And I write my sickening fears.

I DARE TO WRITES

= Denise Hampton

-10-


(0)

You promised me

balloons,

red, yellow, orange, pink,

no blue

or green, please;

honeymoons are brighter, hotter,
not to be pacified. I'd promised jou

forever, never thinking there could be

a world
sphere.
my time
my days
sun, my

beyond our closed elastic
But I have changed, dear,
no leuger spent forgetting you,
are filled with
nights with

round surprises found
at my new carnival,

Il

At breakfast, I discover that

eggs have regained their flavor,
especially hard-boiled

with a little salt

and coffee, dark and smiling from the
cup. Across the table, someone's
eyes surprise themselves by opening,
his yawning mouth a nearly perfect

gircle,

He is a

sleepy, but a certitude.

Ill

quiet fellow, brings

me his dirty dishes with a kiss.

At this

I make my daily marvel

for small wonders, and he greets
the morning with a short analogy

on life

and then a wink, I laugh,

my fingers busy bursting detergent

bubbles

in the sink,

- Ava Stern

-ll-



"BORICUA, DEFIENDETE"

PROMESAS Y MAS PROMESAS

Afio tras afio los polfticos, los pseudo-
polfticos y sus aliados alza cola nos
prometen el cielo, la luna y las estrellas.
Aprenden dos palabras en espanol para
agraciarse mas con nosotros,

DEMAGOGIA

Nos comen el cuchifrito y salen corri-
endo a tomar alka-seltzer, porque asf
no se mueren, para asi demostrar lo
mucho que nos quieren,

HIPOCRECIA

Salen electosy al otro dia se olvi-
daron de nosotros y de sus promesas,
y entonces seguimos siendo del montén
= como siempre,

Nuestros ninos, los m&s abusados del
sistema escolar siguen siendo anal-
fabetas tales como entraron, Se nos
impone una cruente huelga ilegal.
Nosotros perdemos,

El casero sigue esquilmando a los
inquilinos con la ayuda t4ctica del
gobierno, Las cortes protegen al
casero, No da calefacci6n, ni agua
caliente y mantienen la propiedad
completamente abandonada, Nadie nos
escucha, Como siempre perdemos,

La policfa aan sigue abusandonos
en todos los planos, Y nosotros
siempre perdemos,

En las cortes supuestamente protec~-
toras de la justfcia, se nos dispensan
injustas condenas, Siempre perdemos.

En las cfrceles se nos atropella f{sica-
mente, Y nosotros siempre perdemos,

Se nos niega la oportunidad para poder
competir en la banca y en el comercio
con falacias y falsas excusas.

Siempre perdemos,

-12-



Las uniones con raras excepciones

son bastiones de discrimen y ex-,
plotacion peor que el mismo patron

a veces, Las uniones raqueteras se
festejan con nuestras pésimas condi-
ciones en el taller, y las llamadas
uniones honestas y legitimas son a
veces mds crueles hacia con nosotros
los trabajadores, Casi siempre perde-
mos,

Nadie, pero nadie, puede refutar la
escueta verdad de nuestras pésimas
condiciones, aunque los alza colas
quieran proteger sus propias posi-
ciones saliendo ala defensa de sus

amos, Esos dejan de ser puertorri-
quenhos convertidos en agentes pagados
que eventualmente venderan su patrimonio,

2QUE HACER?

Boricua, solo tu podras poner coto
a esta imperante situacidén,
Demuestra tu fuerza, vete a la es-
cuela y absorbe lo mas que pueda de
esa educacién, La educacién es la
mejor arma del hombre para combatir
al enemigo. Edécate y ayuda a los
tuyos,

Boricua despierta, Demuesrra tu
puertorriquénidad, Hasta respetar

del polftico ef{nico, del casero

usuromo, del policfa abusador, de las
cortce injusticieras, de los ifderes
obreros demagogos, del patron explo-
tador, del llamado ifder puertorriquéno
vende pacria, Tienes que darte a
respetar para que te respeten,

yAL BORICUA HAY QUZ RESPETARLO Y NOSOTROS TENEMOS QUE REAFIRMARLO}

* Un sibaro Mas

-13-


THE WORLD OF THE YOUNG

Turning back the movement of time, I seem to recall that always
forgotten, happy little kid I once was. This was when not a worry
or care was expected of me, All the love in the world would come
to me like a king who received the respect and loyalty from all
the people who were governed by him,

I was brought up in a home someplace upstate; being raised in the
country with other boys and girls is a remarkable experience, With
nature as a mother we were secure in knowing that for a penny we would
get the most joyous, happiest, and most exciting experience any other
man could offer us for a million pennies. The country was filled with
rivers to swim and fish in, The animals were free to be hunted. The
trees and their fruits passively gave way to greedy little hands that
might find themselves grasping them, Frogs, turtles, and lizards all
of a sudden found themselves taking part in the wondrous little worlds
of the innocence of we six-year-olds, Yes , this was a time when nature,
not mother, took care of us.

How extraordinary ovr world must have seemed at that age, the age when
all the sense of value seemed twisted and misunderstood because our
stubborn little eyes just couldn't see it, I remember how everybody
had excited themselves when snack time came, To an outsider it would
appear as if a team of cattle had just rushed a pond of water after
traveling a long distance, But, to us a peanutbutter and jelly sand-
wich was much more valuable than a treasure chest of gold, There were
other things that overjoyed our minds. The dollar, for instance, gave
us the power to eat all the candy our flabby little tummies could hold,
This we did every week, Story-telling time was our favorite, ghost
stories in particular, Marbles, bubble gum, mud pies, and tricycles
mean little to me now, but then they meant the whole world,

Successfully surviving that great obstacle we humans define as time,

I now find myself in a position to analyze both my past and present

life and can now come up with a solid conclusion. In this world of
automation with its new and greater luxuries, there is a world much smaller
and simpler which still survives, The world of the young, this is

the world I want to belong to,

- Wilfredo Rivera

14.




Growing Up, Ghetto Style

Playground; backyards with tons on tons:
of garbace. Looking straight out of my
back alley window, you could not see out
concrete, just garbage on top of garbage,
sprinkled sparingly with rodents large
as cats, and many times the cat would

turn and run.

In the evening we could go across the
street and look in on the fat whore

from the backyard window. She would let
us watch as lone as we were quiet. But
sometimes it was a little rough tu be
quiet when twenty other kids were all
trying to look throu gh three little holes
in her shade, all screaming to have a look
at the same time.

Or we coucld go bus riding, hanging from
the hinges of the back of the bus by our
finger tips. When we orew tired of bus
hitching, we would enter in packs of ten
underground-"subway,." We would wait for
the train to pull into the station, Just
as the conductor would open the doors,

we would charge over and under the turn-
stiles and hold the door until all were
on board. When we went to the subway it
meant neanuts, We would take sharon bobby
pins into the shape of coins and litterally
empty a machine. When we stocked us

good, all pockere and bags, we went back
to the block to see the superintendent's
dauchter, Vivian, to whom we would turn
over our “eold" and she would let us feel
and touch and »inch her until her father
came, I am convinced that he was capital-
izine on his daughters goodies.

The sunerintendent's daughter wasn't the
only zirl in our lives. One of the fel-
lows had a sister about eleven years old
and after church every Sunday she would
take on the gang. That wae when we really
got a first hand look and feel, I started
noticing girls then and since, I already
knew what to do with them; jit made me even
more anxi-us, But I wasn't quite sure
what the pretty young girl was locking for.
I was left out of the scene, I did have
one nlump side, She always had her eye
on my portable radio, For a loan of my
radio we worked out an agreement.

This went on for a while until her brother,
my friend, got wise and he muscled in on
ovr little agreement and that was where

I witnessed my first view of brother and
sister love making. However, he was
discreet enough to take the back door in.
I palled out with him a lot and finally he
asked me to do it to him, I tried, but

-17-

‘couldn't, Something inside me seemed

to freeze and it was just hopeless,

He finally gave up and masturbated,

When I wae thirteen I moved out of the
Bronx to the Lower East Side housing
project, Here I found a different
situation entirely, It was a pretty
mixed neighborhood, dominated by the
Negro.

I wes happy, I thought, until I was
slapped arcund, shaken up. Basically,
until this point in my life, I felt
fighting was just not the key, I
learned to fight for my rights the

hard way. Now that neighborhood girls
were game, espically when they found

ovt I was a Puerto Rican, Unfortun-
ately for me the boys found out too
That made all the difference in the
world to some of the puys.

I remember one night especially, I

had just learned a new dance called

the Grind from my friend Lefty. I had
gotten to be good buddies with Lefty who
lived in my building, and I spent hours
in the afternoon practicing by myself,
him coaching, That evening we went to a
party and as I was wrapved up in some
luscions senis's arms, when in breaks
this cooperative damsel's beau, and
tiroveh sweet music I hear oh-oh} When
he caw the oosition the girl and I were
in he jumped ten feet in the air, ran
over to me, and stubbed his cixarette

in my face. The next thing I knew, he
was wieldin: a straight razor in my

face, liis friend, who also had a knife
made a dash for me, I looked to my friend
Lefty to tell me what to do, He motioned
for me to run while he tried to stop.them,
I did as he bid and ran out the door, my
heart in my mouth. I could hear them just
behind me as I broke through the door and
I into the street. J never ran so hard in
my life. When I did look back again, al)
I could see was cole street, which was
odd because we were in the middle of a
particularly warm summer.

After that I became closer than ever with
Lefty. I wanted to learn everything from
him, dancing, how to act with girls, and
last, the art of self-defense, I joined
the boys club and started boxing instruc-
tions, 1 got quite good and was soon on
the boxing team. After many months of
training, I methodically, but surely, went
around picking out all the brats, who had
in the previous months tried to make my



~

life so miserable, And with great pleasyre

I evened the score,. Though I hated violence

I now found that was the only thing that people
seemed to understand, Now I was armed with the
that command respect, not only with my peers

but with all, And that thing was strength,
Whether I liked it or not strength was the key;
for friends, notoriety, povularity, I liked the
respect; I was now getting it, I wasn't about
to give it up! God knows how important having
friends are to a guy, Especially one without

a father of at the very least a brother to make
reference to, Somehow it used to leave me with
such a lonely feeling. It used to hit me when

I was in the house with "just Mom!" Not that
she didn't try, I had everything a guy could
ask for, I truly loved my mother, But somehow
the house always seemed to be missing something,
and it's emptiness seemed to reach the pit of my
stomach, and tear it to the point of pain, real
pain, When it come down on me, it was imnossible
to keep still, never mind in the house, It would
always make me think of the fellows, and what I
must be missing out on, I didn't know at this
point, but my over anxicusness to make chicks
and friends was going to be fatal, The beginn-

ing of the end was near, I got to be pretty popular,

it was wonderful, meeting lots of people, it was
great. Until I met Helen, who told me she was
sweet sixteen, Wow! was she tough, She was
built like Elizabeth Taylor, with blue eyes and
all, with a pair of boobs as big as melons, She
had hair redder than Maureen O'hara, and when

she stood in front of me she looked straight in
the eye, and I stood five feet eight inches, So
when she paid a little attention to me I jumped
at the Opportunity, For a while, everything was
just great; she even taught me a few thingrI didn't
know. Finally, she started hanging around me until
eventually the euys stacted to make fun of me. It
didn't fwa@ her in the least,

One day the hassling of the guys got too much for
me, and I told her not to come around so often.
She became furious and told me that if she couldn't
have me then no one would, She ran off and I
didn't see her for two weeks. Towards the end of
the second week, I received an unexpected visit
from the police at six a.m, in the morning,

This sent my mother into a frenzy, when they
handcuffed my hands bebind my back and escorted
me to the station, There I saw Helen, aged
eleven, who was dressed as a littlegirl, with a
little pink bow on her little red head,

They sent me to the Youth House, and here was I,
aged thirteen a nd a half, charged with rape.

As they took down my particulars, I remember
thinking to myself, "Well, I've made it, the
epitome of growing up, Ghetto Style,"

-18-

I was incarcerated,
What would they do to me now?

- Bernard Creache



I hugged your dark twisted shadow
Mistaking it for your substance
Trying to feel the dense texture
Only to spring back puzzled, vexed,
Not understanding that faces that
Took years to construct cannot
be erased or reshaped by kind kisses
or welling tears. Poor baby, father and child,
spoonfed on doubt and clothed with cold.
Go, almost loved one, beginner without end
Try to find some saving answers
Go and bow to your many gods

I must remain kneeling to mine.

- Richard Mason


What Ever Turns You On ;

Now, as I heard tell there were two hippies that went by
the na mes of Adam and Eve living on some estate that was known
as Paradise Garden, or something of that sort, Exactly how these
two came upon this olace I've never been told, but I supnose they
were running from the fuzz or something of that nature, They had
a weird appearance, For example, they both wore the same hairstyle
and Adam wore a beard which at the time was a sign of rebellion,

It's been said that this place was truly a paradise, There
were trees, flowers and grass growdng:all around, The place was
sort of a cross between a nudist camp and a spiritual and intellectual
retreat, It was run by a guru type know as the Great One, As I've
mentioned, Adam and Eve dressedkind of weird, but they were no match
for the Great One. He'd walk around wrapped up in white sheets, :
wearing sandals, beads, a bushy beard, long hair, and at times |
car-ying a flower between his teeth, I can't say if he liked to eat f
the flowers of if this was just his way of showing how hung up on
nature he was, You see, nohody ever asked him about it, He was so
feared and respected that everything he did was accepted and not
questioned,

All in all the place was really ereat, After all where else ;
could one sit around and shoot the bull without giving time a thoucht? ;
Yeah, it was really a swinging place, peaceful, but the couple didn't
get to enjoy it for very long. It so happened that the bird, Eve,
was one to try anythine for a kick and somehow she noticed that the
grass growingearound was not only nice to look at but some of it
was great to smoke, She managed to talk her man Adam into trying
some, and he too liked it,

Just as might have been expected, the Great One soon found out
about Adam and ®ve's new found pleasure, The “reat One was set
against grass cmoking from the beginning, He figured that since
he hadn't thourht of it first, it couldn't be acceptable, He set
out to look for the couple to let them know how they stood by his y,
rules. p

that they were ensaged in just what the Great One wanted to talk
to them about, The Great One demanded that they either stop smoking
that smelly grass or leave immediately, Well, it didn't take them

long to decide what to do, They both got up and announced their

plans; they were leaving, Then Eve got another of her great ideas,

She suggested that the Great One try a little of their pleasure,

just to see exactly what it was all about, The Great One had always
prided himself on being opam minded and seeing both sides of everything,
He decided that it wouldn't hurt to know more about Adam and Eve's

new thing, so he took a drag. Then he itook another, and another

and wow man, it really was good§ The Great One became all excited,

look at all he'd been missing out on!

The Great One took to the weed the way ducks take to water,
He loved it and nothing could interfere with his new found pleasure
=20-


It didn't take him long to forget about the estate; he just let it
go to pot. He was suddenly living in a world of his own, Adam and
Eve felt unwanted after a while and decided to leave Paradise Garden
since all the fun was out of just smoking grass, They left the Great
One and his estate never to return again

The last thing I heard about them was that they had had some
kids, I think they named them Able and Cain or some weird names
like those, One, Cain I think, had gotten into some mess with
the fuzz for doing in his brother or something of that nature,
but then, that's another story altogether,

= Celia Reyes

PARANOIA IN THE HALLS OF SEEK
(A Poem felt out of Context)

Having been a Jew all my life
"Jew-Boy-Bastard-Torah sucker"
doesn't stick well on the walls of SEEK,

What's more -= having worn a yarmulka,
been circumcised, married a Jewess
inflamed myself secretly with chosenness

prevents rationalizations, big word for
"I don't wear a beard," I'm not "them,"
copping out in the halls of SEEK.

Those blue-eyes Arabs were wasted on
the blue Nile and I cheered, my black
yemenite bro 8 wasted them on the Moses/
papa desert

and for six days, 1 sweated and raised
my right fist and grooved with a blood
based groove -- a yid had his id

and exulted and only wished they wouldn't
have taken so many showers for so many
years, wishing I didn't feel so
circumeised in the halls of SEEK.

- Jim Weiss

-21-


TWO FACES

Life
The survival of a crying child, a budding
flower, a twisted weed, a latent force,
a Brighter day, a somber night, a
scream, a howl, an echo, a chance,
Discrimination
Is a white man's pleasure, and a
Black man's origin.
Integration

1s a trance enhanced by sheer madness.
Peace

Is only a state of mind.
Destruction

Is evident upon the body of the
destroyed,
Ignorance

Is a niggers virtue,
Love

Is an expression of mental and
physical attributes endorsed by the
medium of the moment,
Hate

Is the supreme epitome of the
animal kingdom,
Diplomacy

Is another expression for dividing a
situation in many parts of your favor.
Segregation

Is in its entirety a fulfillment of
every Black being, and a Cronic
Disaster of every white.
Racism

Is two bodies of flaming fluid cascading
down upon each others pracitcal sence of
reasoning
Death

To join the passing winds, to envelope
between the folds of soil that cultivate
the very earth, anc also there is the End
that stains the nights with immortal
appearancess, whom dwell amongst the
shadows of the cursed, who see, hear, feel,
talk, "Yet" contain the body that decaying
waste, in a atmosphere of stark raving
nothingness.,.
Pain

Is a state of condition, pain is Life,
Discrimination, Integration, Peace, Diplomacy
Destruction, Love, hate, Segrdtion, Ignorance,
Racism, Pain is alive,

Death is the antidote, the absolution,
for to die is to suffer no more,

Life without pain is the living Endes..ee

- E, Bourne

-22=


JUKE BOX ~ OFF THE RECORD
Tell me What's It All About I don't understand, They say
The Whole World is a Stage, and me I'm a Puppet. The people are

shouting We're a Winner yet they're still On The Outside Looking In.

People Wanna Be Free. They're asking for equality; will they get it?
We shall see,for Only Time Will Tell, Others sit back and say I Hear
a Symphony because they have Love Power. They write Soul Themes to

Uncle Sam's Boys to say there is Something On My Mind, and in the

next tune I Never Loved A Man the Way I Love You. But only looking

at that tune the boy writes back and says, Let Me Down Easy because

Only the Strong Will Survive and My World is Empty Without You, Babe.
Tell me, "What's It All About?" 1 don't understand. Too many
people want to visit another land, We have those on Cloud Nine. There
Some are running wild because they were a Run-Away Child. And to the
mothers they say Didn't You Know You Have to Cry Sometime? What about

the young ones who can't be found, those who are hiding in an alley
with A Friend of Mine, ‘the noises what are they saying, ‘oh, it's a
record playing, What might the name be, Baby I Like What You're Doing
To Me.

What's It All About? I don't understand, Everybody Loves Somebody

Sometimes. But does it show I'm singing I'm Black and I'm Proud? He's

Singing, It's Your Thing; they're singing I Don't Want Nobody to Give Me

Nothing; Open the Door I'll Get it Myself, She's singing Ain't No Way

and you're probebly singing Foolish Fool.

=23-


What's It All About? I don't under-
stand, The black man is beautiful, and
the white man is the devil, One holds
the handle and the other holds the shovel.
The Whole Is A Stage and everybody's
playing a part; the scene is set, the

curtain goes up and me, I'm A Puppet.

-Janet Kersey

240



Black
Black
Black

Black
Black
Black

Love
love
love

love
love
love

is
is
is

is
is
is

Black Love
love for the new truth brought about by Black awareness
learning to love and respect our own kind
Black people saying: heroin, booze, cocaine, no thanks
We can live without it
seeing the Blackman regain his throne
Black children saying:Thank you Daddy, damn santa claus
the double crownin: of the Black woman for playing

dual roles for four hundred years

Black love is Nina Simone singing "I Loves You Porgy"

Black love is John Coltrane blowing “A Love Supreme"

Black love is Black people getting Brain Power in order to get Black
Power or any other power they desire

Black love is Armaggedon when it ignites to Black Fire

Black love is loving your enemy, yet killing him with kindness

Signed:
Love,
A Black Man

Ronald Watford

Fear was his first born. Emerging wide-eyed and
cowering from the womb. The general instilled fear
into his troops and they in turn caused it to grow
among their enemies.

Famine was his second born, all hollow cheeks and
gaping mouth, She was the personification of the peoples’
hunger as the army dutifully marched through the farmlands
crushing sprouts and seedlings underfoot. Heedless of the
hunger they were causing, the meals that would never be
eaten,

Death was his third born, skeletal, raucous, disquieting,
shrieking projectiles, missiles, bombs, bayonets, tanks,
yells, screams, commands, prayers.

During these last years the g:neral's three daughters
had grown up.

- William Wilkins

-25=


Bitterness

I am not going to quote you a lot of figures and
statistics concerning inadequate housing; inadequate
educational facilities, for our children, inadecuate
sanitation conditions; limited employment, rats
biting children, and the like, indigenous to our
neighborhoods,

For we live in these neighborhoods, these ghettos,
We live in those inadequate houses, with no heat
and cold water, and peeling plaster walls and
filthy urinated halls,

We see our children regressing with each ending of
a school day, where it is said, they are getting
an education, A sometimey--lest than mediocre--
so called education would be more like it.

We see the garbage of humanity piled high on the
sidewalks, in the alleyways and backyards, and
wonder where the hell is the Sanitation
Department.

We must contend with mediocre, menial ‘obs, because
of the color of our skin, We don't posses the
required skills we are told. Why?--because of

the color of our skin, we are unable to acquire
the needed skills,

We have killed that rat, who in the night,
scurring across our childrens bed, awakened them,
from their slumber of despair.

Therefore I will quote you no statistics as the

white man does, for you have no need of statistics.
But you do have need of change, positive--meaningful--
change,--. Now! This I say, to you my brothers

and sisters,

- Harrison Coleman

There are times that I feel
that all the good I'm doing
is like trying to wet the ocean
with tons of hand-scooped sand,

- William Wilkins

=26-


THE EXPERIENCE WHILE HIGH

It was about 9 p.m, and T.V,. had just lost its most ardent
watcher, Nature had finally decided to conform to man's sea=
sonal expectations in that the weather was ouite fair, It was
about 75 degrees and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, Looking
out the window could not setisfy that innate curiosity activated in
te in this kind of weather, so I decided to take a walk and
enjoy ‘he inception of summer,

I put my sweater on and made a few other preparations such
as rollin; a few joints and making sure that my K=55 was in my
pocket, I went out; locked my door and checked it of course
mot wanting to come back and find all my stuff cone, I ran
down four flichts of steps. For some strarzer reason I never
could cet myself to walk down those stairs, Perh»ps it was
that walking down seems so much like a waste of time,

When J stepped outside, I was met by an odor, An odor
that is idiosyncratic to the chetto in the Summer, To me, this
was 4 confirmation that Summer had surely come to New York City.
Some books say thet ri» smell of flowers are indicative of the
advent of Summer, ‘ut this odor has no similitude to the smell
of flowers, It can be partially described as #-combination ‘of
hot tar, cheap wine, Chicago Green, human funk, and old garbage
Rut a full descrintion of this odor can never be given, This
odor must be smelled, It becomes stronger as the weather be=
comes hotter.

After deciding on my itinerary, I lit up a reefer, Ree
differs from wine and whisky in that it 'ucidates reality iis
Stead of obscuring it. when I feel relatively content or e
as I did that night, I smoke reefer, and when I feel had I
drink,

As I walked through areas that were familiar to me in m
childhood, I began to realize somerhing that made me wish tha
I were not high on pot, but instead I wished I had been drink
ing. I wes becoming rapidly aware of the fact th t the ghetto
Was in fact becoming wo se, I realized that progress was a de
lusion I no longer had, The illusion had disapocared, but it
Seemed as thourh every one else around me were still seeing it,
Tt was a frichteninp experience. Not only did I realize that no
Proeress had heen made towards the remova] of the ghetto or improving
the conditions under which the occupants must live, but retrogressior
had actually taken place, There was more garbaze in the streets
than there was ten years a70, There were more buildings that were
unfit to live in than there were a decade aro, There more and
youneer dope addicts, I saw the housing projects for what the
really were: prisons designed to contain the expansion of the
ghetto instead of benevolent «ifts from big, strony.,white daddy.

Every block that I sent through had either a church or @
bar or a liquor store, and some blocks had all three, I began
to realize the true function of these establishments: they
Rerve the ournose as did the chains and guns used by the ne-
farious slave keepers.


THE KEY IS IN THE SUNLIGHT IN THE WINDOW

I looked today

I will look tomorrow, the day after and
on and on

But why bother?

Is it because if I don't no one will.
Why a key?

Is it because all of man's possessions
are locked

and only a few chosen people in the world
possess the key.

Why a window?

Is it not to see what you cannot have.
Why sunlight?

Is it not here only to hide the key,
Why the world?

Is it not here for man only,

For me I must

look to find and

Ask why?

- A, Louise Wright

SILENT MOMENT

It's just a plain wooden bench with a green-leaved go-go girl
around it, And a cool breeze sweeps through our hair while
we receive the hot vibrations of the sun. And it's all
heavenly within this park. But what about outside it? One
human neglecting the other, One war too many, One million
crimes committed, Only one Care package on its way to feed

a thousand open mouths, How can these two worlds sit by =
close? Do I sit on this plain bench all my life or do I
expand this greenland further?

Rain, One puddle looks like the one before. Rain doesn't
change, But I, Sylvia Maldonado, must, I have learned a
lot about this uncivilized civilized world, And now I must
make decisions regarding my future and that of my people.
Those twelve o'clock midnight confetti-throwers are popping
up ever so fast. I will have to decide now, making it a
strong effort with which I can better myself, my family,
and my world, Rain doesn't change. Will I?

~ Sylvia Maldonado
=28-



DISPOSSESSED

Since I have lost my sense of touch,
I must ask you how it feels, the air
bristling at dawn on your bare shoulders,
the jealous daylight stinging you awake,
the silken ignorance of that foreign hand
still resting on your hungry thigh. . «

I wouldn't ask to know, but

even blind men are accorded curiosity.

- Ava Stern

TO S®E OR NOT TO SEE
Tet us assume that we
were all Blind
Then I wouldn't know your
Color

And you wouldn't know mine

= Ronald Watford

~29-