Conney Williams: Three Poems

Conney Williams is a poet, actor, community activist, and performance artist. He has two collections of poetry, Leaves of Spilled Spirit from an Untamed Poet (2002) and Blues Red Soul Falsetto (2012). In 2015, he released two critically acclaimed CDs of his poetry accompanied by music titled River&Moan and Unsettled Water. He is the Artistic Director at the World Stage and Coordinator for the Anansi Writers Workshop.

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zona colonial

El Malecon heaves
like a lost European explorer
who dispenses disease
with each conquest
she heaves
at curb and cobblestone
until African and native bone
rise middle of the calle
and protrude from
the stone and mortar
there is no memory here
of chains or rape
and monuments are
no place for blood
to return home
sharp left turns
narrow one-ways
these caminos
weren’t made for
a ’57 Chevy BelAir, or
such a reticent revolution
here the sunset dresses
in her best orange
ancient architecture
transform into ballerinas
dancing off sugar sky
with soft new skin


cuban shower

the spigot laughs
from the wall above my head
not even my nakedness
warms her
nothing makes her hot
her open mouth
brain and skin
brace my body
like a conquistador
crossing the Atlantic
for the first time


I am not afraid of you

I have seen you
inside the folded edges
of poorly developed photographs
pieces torn from self-portraits;
I have seen you across the room
at parties neither of us wanted to attend
the look up on your face
always tells the whole story of you
how do you hide you so well
between scar of unintentional lovers
and the soft sedative of tears
filling your safe deposit box
I know where you hide it
from everyone you have ever known


(Author photo by Alexis Rhone Fancher)

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