Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note

by: Leroi Jones

Lately, I've become accustomed to the way
the ground opens up and envelops me
Each time I go out to walk the dog.
Or the broad edged silly music the wind
Makes when I run for a bus--

Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars,
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted
I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

And then last night, I tiptoed up
To my daughter's room and heard her
Talking to someone, and when I opened
The door, there was no one there...
Only she on her knees,
Peeking into her own clasped hands.


When you're weary and a bit jaded, you can see all the tragedies in the world. The beauty that is right there in front of you, wrapped in tufts of simplicity seem to evade you. It seems that in this poem, Amiri Baraka (Leroi Jones) is talking about how he'd become a bit disillusioned and then the simple act of a prayer and the faith of his daughter gave him hope and brought back a bit of light. I love this poem, it inspires me to want to write. Let's hope I can come up with something just as haunting.
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LeRoi Jones (Amiri Baraka) is a poet, writer, political activist and teacher. He was born in 1934, in Newark, New Jersey. He graduated from Howard University in 1953, and published his first major book of poetry, Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note, in 1961. He founded Totem Press in 1958, which first published works by Kerouac, Ginsberg and other lesser-known writers of the time period.

In 1968, LeRoi Jones changed his name to Amiri Baraka in reverence of his Muslim beliefs. He has taught at several universities, and continues to write to this day.