Tonya Maria Matthews   SCIENCE AND POETRY She is an algebra project with a haiku punchline. Metaphysics is not a real science but its mastery is the only thing that keeps her from exploding all over you like an atomic bomb acid raining on your parade fucking up your syllables Been my best friend for years betrayed me more than once so I feel no qualm warning you true. she has her moments But you got to approach a sister that smooth on a parabolic curve and you, my friend, are a straight line neither Pablo nor Pythagoras would approve Been my best friend for years betrayed me more than once so I feel no qualm warning you true. she has her moments Patrick Ellis detail of Sacrede Heart covering reliquary at the center of the altar But you got to approach a sister that smooth on a parabolic curve and you, my friend, are a straight line neither Pablo nor Pythagoras would approve Pinning her down is like identifying missile silos in satellite photos of Iraq: There is no science to it and only poetry (or men who stand like poems) will get UN votes in your favor foolness will hang 'round your neck like gravity as you are forced to feign ignorance or arrogance for the rest of your days or get voted off the island for being a punk sonnets sonnets everywhere and ain't shit to write about no, love is not a bitch, my friend she is just a more complicated subject than anything you could ever want to study SERENGETI & then he told me his real name it melted off of his lips & dripped onto my tongue he is so smooth like 100% mango juice under table the tip of his finger presses the soft spot on my left knee my toes curl like flower petals in the flame this is not what i asked for dear God: didn’t i say send me someone stupid & ugly someone i can handle roll my eyes at do that neck thing put my good foot down get with the program or get gone not like him. if he’s gone i’m lost yo God: did u send me a man with a plan brother on a mission cocoa butter baby on his j.o.b. are u kidding me what am i supposed to do with all that vision eyes like his might see through me once an ancient Ife goddess wanted lips like his when he puts his mouth on me i remember every kiss from every lifetime like syrup dripping down nape of my soul my God i know we talked about this decided i wasn’t ready need to lose 10 pounds 3 ex-boyfriends a few dreams that were never mine nor good for me & this suspicious attitude thing i picked up the last time one of us forgot we already had this conversation! he is all water and building i am all fire and revolution what if i burn his face tear down his foundation when he already be so monumental i cannot let this man make love to me he brings too much rain i dry as the dessert i was almost named for would too happily drown he is too smooth like 100% mango juice i melted on his tongue dripped off his lips & then he told me his real name   YOUR LOVE IS LIKE A MAYAN MATHEMATIAL EQUATION your love is like a Mayan mathematical equation supposedly AMAZING POWERFUL enough to predict eclipses new planets and my next question but too self-absorbed to know neither Spaniards nor my evil eye bring good news a calendar more accurate than Caesar’s with comet crossings harvest times and paydays but no birthdays or first dates or anniversaries all that knowledge all those great cities and the Mayans DISAPPEARED without warning without trace. kind of like you when there are dishes to be done apologies to be made or rent to be paid they reappeared, you know, ignorant begging for their history in small tech-less villages reminds me of you reappearing at 3 in the morning, ignorant begging for forgiveness in small pointless arguments their greatest contribution to civilization was ZERO. hmph. you know these stories go fool General turned from friend to foe by pyramids and temples masks and monuments of gold warriors downed defenses deflated gate splayed, carcasses and innocents the legend of pirates is born: as gold turned to black in the conqueror’s hands all who took that which only God can give were cursed forever wouldn’t that be nice. got to work on my juju that precious Mayan obsidian glittering on pyramids and temples masks and monuments was never gold and neither was your LOVE FREEDOM: A LOVE POEM FOR ALL MY SOLDIERS ON A BUDGET freedom. freedom don’t cost a thing but slaveholders make good money people pay big bucks to see beautiful butterflies trapped behind wire cages feel no pity for the pretty purple monarch with the pin through her heart i prick my finger three times black gold drips into the looking glass they don’t pay what they used to for blood but it’s all i’ve got left to sell & if i don’t they will so going once going twice… sold! to the man in the back with the crooked black hat promising to invest in my sons the economy is failing but the stock market is saved on the black backs buried beneath the prison industrial complex the man in the back with the crooked black hat is a man of his word even with compensation for inflation my first born fetches four times the price of kunta kinte freedom. freedom ain’t cost a thing dreams burn a hole in my pocket section eight finally moves to the county only to find trees don’t burn like cities used to the fire next time is now too bad they charge an arm a leg & your baby girl’s virginity for the matches damn russell simmon’s marches if hip-hop is soul killing music now (i got to buy bootleg) apocalypse is coming with the mad cow (i been a struggling vegetarian for years God knows weed is a vegetable) i wonder when these folks get black enough black like we gonna march picket and protest for free? i even blew my whole bank account on The Movement steel-toed combat boots: $42.95 angela davis t-shirt: $19.98 bus ride to the revolution: $3.25 not being able to recognize the enemy when i got there: priceless to all my soldiers on a budget they will give you all the good stuff for free but anything worth having is worth paying for start with me buy a sistah a ring sell me some vision mortgage your isms for the house that will save our children where daughters can sit pretty and unprostituted on the balcony of our three-story rambler telling tales longer than any white barbie doll having black girl ever wanted her hair to be we’ll paint all the walls blacker than me we’ll set fire to anything at anytime this is the only reason i don’t boycott february love is the only sound investment spend our inheritance wisely Tonya Maria Matthews, a.k.a. JaHipster, is a poet, scientist and hip-hop academic. Matthews has studied with Sonia Sanchez and appeared as JaHipster – her performance alter ego –with poetry legend Nikki Giovanni, underground hip hop icon Pharaoh Munche, and legendary singer-songwriter Ray Charles. Matthews’ latest collection of poetry is available in its second edition from Three Sisters Press, Still Swinging These Hips (2005). Matthews is a Maryland Center for the Book Honoree and her work is featured in the Reginald F. Lewis Museum (Baltimore, MD). She holds a doctorate in biomedical engineering from Johns Hopkins University (2005), and has begun using her scientific background to advance studies in the area of urban education in science and math.   Published in Volume 8, Number 2, Spring 2007.