SMOKE, LILIES AND JADE

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Smoke, Lilies and Jade

“…and Alex called
him Beauty…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

I had a visit—
A surprise visitation
Late Saturday night.

A dinge noir affair—
A kind of Uranian
Fallen Angel (1945).

He needed money—
I took it out in dinge trade
A kid from the gym.

“…blowing smoke and
exchanging thoughts…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

We had a nice chat—
He was truly a teenage
Rainier Beach beauty.

A young sophomore—
Bored going to high school there
By the swimming pool.

Little black ladies—
Getting their exercise just
Like me doing laps.

“…but beauty must
never know…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

I met Black Beauty—
In the locker-room one day
Beauty’s lips were thick.

Thick like molasses—
Dark syrupy brown sugar
So very pouty.

I couldn’t help it—
I let him know by looking
He was no dummy.

“…Beauty couldn’t
understand…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

Surely he didn’t—
Really understand the truth
Naked, unvarnished.

The down on my knees—
Mouth-watering suckable
Suckulento truth?

My dirty white-boy—
Shameless desires & urges
For Mandingo love?
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“…he felt a glow
of tremor…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

Didn’t say a thing—
He was one of those sullen
Tall & silent types.

Obviously str8t—
His physique so butchy-poised
Like a cocked Luger.

Blue smoke curling soft—
Outta the sleek black barrel
Pulling his trigger.

“a field of blue smoke
and black poppies and
red calla lilies…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

I didn’t have to—
Imagine it very long
When my doorbell rang.

Black Beauty stood there—
Holding a bouquet of white
Lilies just for me.

I had him nude soon—
Standing there erect with his
Petulant lilies.

“…on my hands and knees…
pushed aside a lily stem…
a lily…and suddenly he
stood erect…exultant…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

My lily-white face—
Shamelessly blushing for him
My Voodoo Angel.

My Fallen Angel—
On a dark Saturday night
No Church tomorrow!

Bishop Long be Bad—
But I’m more Bad Boy than him
Down in Atlanta!

“…he was searching
and pushed aside lily
stems…and saw two
strong black legs…
dancer’s legs…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

Strong thick athletic—
The kind of legs young boxers
Get there in the Ring.

Ran my hands over—
His nice smooth lean bubble-butt
Tender dinge loin-chops.

When I squeezed them tight—
He flexed them back just for me
I almost fainted.

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“…the contours pleased
me…my eyes wandered
…on past the muscular
hocks to the firm white
thighs…past rounded
buttocks…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

Coolly observing—
My cat disdainfully yawned
At my lily love.

Down on my queer knees—
Embedded in the soft purr
Persian carpets.

Spreading the lilies—
Aside to reveal a dinge
Mighty Joe Young stud.

“…then the lithe narrow
waist…strong torso and
broad deep chest…the
wide shoulders…the
graceful muscled neck…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

FIRE came out only—
In one single issue back
Then in 1926.

At the very height—
Of the Harlem Renaissance
Gay Black Homo Lit.

The younger Voices—
Nugent, Hurston & Thurman
Radically Black.
.
“…his brown eyes looking
at me…his hair curly and
black and all tousled…
and it was Beauty…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

Black sugar tableaux—
Smoke, lilies & jaded lips
Queer pollen pubes.

Up…up…slowly up—
Not fast…not gloriously
But slowly upward.

His hands on my head—
Downward, downward straight as sin
Going down on him.

“…on my hands and knees…
pushing aside poppy stems
and lily stems…lilies…poppies
and bruised calla lilies…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

Moonlight oozed down thru—
Voodoo Venetian blinds
I felt old ghosts moan.

Perhaps it was true—
Old Harlem be back in vogue
With me on my knees.

Mississippi mud—
Old Man River’s sad old sludge
Quivering young spluge.

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“…slightly parting lips…
and straight little nose
with its slightly flaring
nostrils…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

He squeezed the lilies—
In his tight teenage sweaty
Banged-up knuckles fist.

All his young maleness—
Squeezed into that single nut
With its creamy cum.

Squeezing Harlem hips—
Mandingo nectar all the
Back from the Twenties.

“…and in his hand he
held…an ivory holder…
inlaid with red jade…
and green…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

We smoked a fat joint—
My pulse was still hammering
Lips to finger tips…

Softly staccato—
Armstrong playing way back then
“Why Am I So Blue?”

His thick pouty lips—
Press against mine cool & hard
We do it again.

“…such a dream…white calla
lilies…white calla lilies…what
could it mean…did dreams
have meanings…thousands…
millions…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

Long stemmed lily-white—
Bending down as I did him
They’re in a vase now.

The blue night has gone—
A rose dawn drifts thru windows
Silent living room.

I can still taste him—
Black beauty of the blue night
Harlem back again.

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Robert Mapplethorpe,
“Dennis Speight” (1983)

Dennis Speight

“…pushed aside
a lily stem…a lily…
and suddenly he
stood erect…exultant…”
—Bruce Nugent,
“Smoke, Lilies and Jade,”
FIRE November 1926

Dennis Speight holding—
Sheaf of six calla lilies
Orgasmic bouquet.

Six of them shooting—
White seminal flowerings
Up from his dark groin.

Lilies springing up—
Engorged with their own juices
Between his tight fists.