Bernie Mac

I resisted loving him and having newly and finally arrived at that embrace, that ownership, that pride and joy, how I felt him speak THROUGH the inanity and perversity of silliness on his show to always always always arrive at LOVE
LOVE LOVE in that uniquely black american way I mean the character, a version of him is a triumph and he is triumphant presenting himself, not his whole self but so much of himself that yes, the poets weep for such
representation

all those lessons worked in while we laugh and maybe cringe or even yell in recognition

The sister whose children he tends in this show, whose hearts he woos and pursues whose souls he frets over is this not our best and worst story how we overcome and how we must reach back and how it hurts and how it glories?

He is a success in that he has not just a career, but a woman. And the sly story is that he is not complete until the children come. His marital life forever changed but still he is erotic with her... o we see black love so seldom on the screen. this sweet playful intimacy he has with the TV wife

and my baby sister loved this show and i didn't and then i came to love it and appreciate him for these lessons he was feeding America and lord! to hear he had been asking how he could heal his city that shortly before his death there was a something he wanted to do to end the violence

and i dug looking at his shiny darkness, his round face and Chicago accent, a kind of twang to the slang and slant to the stance to my New York ears a street and a church in there

I say thank you Bernie Mac for raising up as you set it down for being the best of clown, who makes us laugh and see the truth of ourselves and dream ourselves better. Bless you Bless you Bless you and yours

Thank you.
Akua

Even his Shadow

though he was a shadow of himself
he was warmth
though what spoke was only a portion
I felt how wide wide how vast he was
because I could still drink
from him and with him
we could still make merry without strain
we could walk together in his light and could
hear him smile and sometimes he would cry
and it wasn't yet goodbye
because even as he grasped at straws
there were logs even though
self was frayed the cloth still held
and what leaked out was more love

more love
o father!
love