Come on. Vogue with me, baby.
Look, Geoffrey. We're voguing.
And what is the precise nature of this nervous disorder?
It's for people that want to look cool but ain't really got no rhythm.
You should be good at it. Come on, strike the pose.
Unhand me, you ruffian.
Will, please. Don't you have anything better to do than to annoy Geoffrey?
Yeah, but Carlton ain't home yet.
That's right.
Do you have any idea what he does after school?
Window-shop at Randy's Short and Small?
Carlton belongs to three different after-school clubs.
I belong to the home shopping club.
- Hi, honey. - Hi, love.
- How was your day? - Fine, until I ran into the man of leisure.
Will doesn't think he needs any after-school activities.
If you sit around the house all afternoon and never develop any outside interests...
you'll become a very, very shallow person.
And you won't get into any of the good nightclubs.
I'll never meet Lisa Bonet.
That's right.
You have so many talents. Why not join an after-school club?
Aunt Viv, I ain't really down...
with staying at an all-boys school after dark.
All right, then. I think you should get an after-school job.
Bring on the clubs.
It's officially after school. Go find the club of your choice.
If I had the club of my choice, you'd be lying on the floor unconscious.
A girl?
Where did that come from?
Didn't you know?
We share our extra-curricular activities with the girls from our sister school.
Lead me to the sisters. I'm ready to get extracurricular.
Yo, Will. Slap me 10.
You know, I finally rented the movie Glory last night.
Denzel was incredible.
The South, man. I don't know. We got to do something about it.
- What's up, Mr. Fellows? - Call me Ned.
You need another member of this poetry club?
Will, solid.
We could really use...
a representative of the Black male urban experience.
More specifically, the handsome Black male urban experience.
Everyone, the meeting's about to begin. Will you please take your seats?
I'd like to open this meeting...
with a reading from the poem Daddy by Sylvia Plath.
Daddy.
"Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You
"Every woman adores a Fascist
"The boot in the face, the brute
"Brute heart of a brute like you"
Sylvia Plath killed herself shortly after writing this poem.
If she didn't, her daddy would have.
Who are you?
This is my main man Will Smith, newest member of our poetry club.
Will, Christina Johnson. And we are so glad to have you.
It's such a thrill to see a man from Bel-Air Academy...
not afraid to share our love of poetry.
Thanks, Christina. Yo, on with the love sharing.
You can start by reading a poem for us.
- I didn't bring one. - What a shame.
There's nothing that moves me more than hearing a poem recited...
in a deep, sensual, masculine voice.
I got a poem.
- Who's it by? - He's a street poet.
He's a friend of mine. His name is...
Raphael de la Ghetto.
I don't think I've ever heard of him.
I have.
You have?
I stay pretty current, bro.
Isn't he one of those street poets from south central LA?
Yeah. Same guy.
Will, the floor's yours.
Floor's yours. You're a poet and you don't know it.
I am a poet and I do know it.
Why don't you recite your poem?
All right. Ladies, my poem is called...
Tick Tock Clock...
by Raphael de la Ghetto.
"Tick tock clock
"The clock is ticking for you
"'Cause the love you said you'd give
"Came up way past due
"So dance to the clock rock
"Stay on the floor
"'Cause when the ticks turn to tocks
"I'll be knocking at your door"
That was incredible.
And very typical of de la Ghetto's work.
Listen, everybody, let's take a break while I go fire up the cappuccino maker.
That poem was brilliant.
De la Ghetto uses a lot of metaphor.
No, baby, he used to. He went to the clinic. He's straight now.
I'd love to hear more of de la Ghetto's poems.
As a woman, I find his work so passionate, so raw...
so exciting.
When I hear those words my body just quivers...
crying out for more.
Poetry is good.
"Love by Raphael de la Ghetto."
"Burnin' Love by Raphael de la Ghetto."
Master William, Mr. Jazz is here to see you.
Yo, what up, J?
What's up, man, I got this new Ice Cube tape. It's dope!
I ain't got enough time for that. I got to finish writing this poem.
Poem? Then what you going to do, bake some cookies?
Hem a dress?
Shut up. I'm doing it to get this girl.
Listen to what I got so far. I just need one last line.
"My love for you is like a river
"Like a summer breeze That makes my soul shiver
"One look from you Is more precious than gold"
Let's go get some barbecue and get busy.
What kind of line is that?
It always works for me.
I hear someone in this room likes poetry.
Try this one on for size.
"Roses are red Violets are blue
"Pansies are poets Will, tell me it isn't true"
That's funny.
I got a poem for you, Carl. Try this one on for size.
"Roses are red Violets are blue
"Jazz and I are Black, But Carlton, what are you?"
Master William...
I applaud your new interest.
Poetry is one of my great loves.
I won first prize...
at the old Devonshire poetry recital of 1963.
You should have been there.
The crowd rose to its feet shouting, "Encore!"
That's interesting...
"Cannon to the right of them
"Cannon to the left of them
"Cannon in front of them
"Volleyed and thundered"
You need a last line for that?
- Good evening. - Good evening, sir.
So, young man, how'd it go at school today?
- I joined the poetry club. - Excellent.
I remember when I got interested in poetry.
So who's the girl?
I'm starving. When do we eat here?
We eat here later.
You eat here never.
Looks like you eat here often.
Hi, Will. Where's your uncle?
He's throwing Jazz out the house again.
Okay. Here are those poetry books you wanted.
I used them in the Freshman Lit class I taught last year.
If you have any questions about poetry, just ask me.
Yeah, I have a question.
I understand why guys get into poetry. To get girls.
But why do girls like poetry?
Because girls think with their brains.
Miss Christina Johnson.
This is my Aunt Viv and this is my cousin Ashley.
- Nice to meet you. - You, too.
You'll have to excuse us.
Will, I've got a poem.
- "Will and Christina sitting in a tree..." - Beat it.
They seem really nice.
Yeah. They mean well.
But the only people I'm really comfortable with are my friends.
The dead poets.
- Care to sit? - Thanks.
You know, I can't get de la Ghetto's poem off my mind.
He is a genius, isn't he?
Do you really, really know him?
Yeah. We're like brothers.
Tell me. What's he like?
He's a kind of a strange guy.
His girl left him back in the '60s and he never changed his clothes.
Wears the same old dashiki and monster afro.
- That's such a sad story. - I know.
When I think about poor Raphael...
it makes me wonder if a woman could ever really care about a man.
I'm glad you know him so well, because I have a favor to ask you.
Anything.
Could you bring Raphael to poetry night?
- Excuse me? - We have it at school once a month.
Usually club members get up and recite their poetry.
I'm in charge of it this month...
and I thought, "Wouldn't it be great if we had a real poet?"
I don't know. Raphael doesn't like to leave the house.
You wouldn't either if you had the same dashiki on for 20 years.
Could you just ask him, Will? I'd be so grateful.
- I could ask him, but I'm sure he'll say no. - Please try, Will.
It would mean so much to me.
Yo, he'll be there.
- I'm glad you're here. - You sounded kind of clutch on the phone.
I'm in big trouble.
I promised Christina I'd have a famous poet at school tonight.
I'm connected, but I don't know any famous poets.
I need somebody to pretend to be a famous poet.
I'll be home about 6:00, Geoffrey.
Is that your uncle? I'm tired of those grass burns.
- Good morning, Will. - Good morning.
- Better get ready for school. - Okay.
We're really looking forward to poetry night tonight.
- How did you hear about it? - Your teacher Mr. Fellows called.
He's calling all the parents of Bel-Air Academy.
No, Aunt Viv.
- You guys can't go. - But I love poetry.
Wait a minute, now, Vivian. Let's be a little sensitive here.
Will only joined the poetry club because he had a crush on Christina.
If we show up, we'll cramp his style.
Okay. You're right.
Will, good luck tonight.
- Thanks for understanding. - Are you kidding?
I just didn't want to get stuck at some boring poetry night.
Is he gone yet?
Did you hear any of that?
This is getting out of control. I need a phony poet tonight.
What does he have to do?
He just has to have a big afro, a dashiki...
and stand in front of a crowd and read some stuff I'll write.
He has to be able to read?
Yes, Jazz.
That'll cost you two extra Jacksons, but I know a guy.
He's a sidewalk jewelry salesman so he has free nights.
But he'll need $60 cash in advance.
- $60? Are you tripping? All I got is $20. - He'll take it.
Here's an extra $10. Get me a Rolex.
I just can't believe it.
Raphael de la Ghetto at Bel-Air Academy.
Yes. I'm looking forward to seeing him again.
Will, is Raphael here yet?
No. He'll probably be a little late.
He likes his audience to be a little hostile.
It's okay if he's running a little late.
I just wrote a new poem and I'm anxious to share it.
Will, this is our night.
Bringing Raphael de la Ghetto here tonight...
is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me.
I'm feeling really close to you right now.
I don't know how to thank you.
You don't have to thank me.
But, Will, I want to after the reading.
Will's gonna get thanked!
What are you guys doing here?
It's after dark, Master William.
I thought it wise to drive the young ladies...
to ensure that they arrived safely.
Are there any women my age here?
- But why did you two come? - Are you kidding?
We heard the buzz about this event on Melrose.
I cannot believe your dinky, little school got Raphael de la Ghetto to come.
Why didn't you tell me it was poetry night?
You know what a great lover of literature I am.
I've never seen you read nothing.
That's right. I suppose I just get my horoscope out of the air.
Jazz, where is the poet?
Locked up in the steel hotel.
Cops caught him with a fistful of toy Rolexes.
Yo, let's get out of here.
Jazz, I can't go.
After this, I'm getting thanked.
Ode to Judy.
"Unfinished Sunday Times puzzle
"Lying limp on the hardwood floor
"The society page spread open
"My coffee is cold
"It seems you are engaged
"To a prominent investment banker
"Prominent for what?
"I'd very much like to know"
We better go.
This crowd will get ugly if they got to listen to much more of that.
The audience is growing restless.
Where is this de la Ghetto fellow?
I really stepped in it this time.
I don't know what I'm going to do.
What's wrong?
There is no Raphael de la Ghetto. I made him up.
I just wanted to impress Christina.
I even had Jazz hire a phony poet to come tonight, but the dude didn't show up.
There was extenuating circumstances.
I don't know what I'm gonna do, G. Christina is a very, very nice girl.
If she finds out I lied to her, she may never even speak to me again.
Everyone, I'm sorry for the delay but the big moment has finally come.
I'd like to present...
the man responsible for this evening's event...
Mr. Will Smith.
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Raphael de la Ghetto.
"Listen
"To the street beat
"Hear the sound pound
"Plug your ears
"Mask your fears
"Something weird's going down
"So listen to the street beat
"Listen to the box shock
"Listen, or I'll kill you"
That was heavy, man. Let's have another one.
Encore.
"Cannon to the right of them
"Cannon to the left of them
"Cannon in front of them
"Volleyed and thundered"
- Hilary, isn't that your butler? - Yeah.
It's a good look for him.
"Came through the jaws of Death"
Silence, you ungrateful children.
When you're ready to be quiet and listen, I shall return.
That was your butler.
Look, baby, let me explain.
You don't even know de la Ghetto.
I can't believe anything you've said to me.
You're nothing but a liar.
My man Will ain't no liar.
Who are you?
I am Raphael de la Ghetto.
Where's your afro? And where's your dashiki?
I worked all that out in therapy.
I don't know who to believe anymore.
How do I know you're the real Raphael de la Ghetto?
Listen.
"My love for you is like a river
"Like a summer breeze That makes my soul shiver
"One look from you Is more precious than gold
"Let's go get some barbecue And get busy"
Tell me more.
Works every time.
"Cannon to the left of them
"Cannon to the right of them"
I'm sorry I missed that.
So Jazz went out with Christina.
That's cool, though, baby.
I'm a poet, and it's a lot more ink in this pen.
I think you have a talent for poetry.
I was just playing around with that stuff.
But the poem that you wrote got a standing ovation.
That's right, and it got me a date.
The other one you wrote got Jazz a date.
The one I got out of your wastebasket got me a date.
Mommy, I'd like to hear a poem. Could you read us one?
Okay.
This is a poem that your father and I especially love.
It's by Amiri Baraka.
It's called Three Modes of History and Culture.
"I think about a time
"When I will be relaxed
"When flames and nonspecific passion
"Wear themselves away
"And my eyes and hands And mind can turn
"And soften
"And the songs will be softer
"And weight the air"
If you'd like to learn more about poetry, you can reach us at...
Psych. We just kidding. Good night, y'all.
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