P O E M S * S H O R T * S T O R I E S F R O M * A * G Y P S Y Selina Holman REVISIONS 2000 - 2018 PRINTED ON RECYCLED PAPER LIBRARY OF CONGRESS COPYRIGHTS © 2008 WASHINGTON, D.C. 20559-6000 QUALITY BINDERY SERVICES INC. 501 AMHERST ST. BUFFALO, NY 14207 E-MAIL (S.HOLMAN) [email protected] WWW.CROWNPUBLISHING.ORG
CONTENTS I PREFACE X ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS XII THE ART OF POETRY XIV MONOLOGUE XVI GYPSY SPIRIT XVII BIRD’S EYE V IEW 1 SHE IS BEAUTIFUL 3 STOLEN HOURS 5 VINTAGE EYES 6 DRIED ROSES 7 LOVE TRIANGLE 8 DAY’S END 8 HIDEOUS 8 AGED 9 3 STOOLE – PIGEONS 9 WHAT WILL IT BE LIKE THEN 10 WOMEN MY AGE 11 IN MEMORY OF JENNY 12 POEM FOR JENNY 13 A WOMAN’S TRAINING 13 BEMUSED 14 SPIRIT 15 WHOSE LAND IS IT ANYWAY 16 POETRY (I) 17 SNOW WHITE 17 TECHNOLOGY A HANDICAP OF SOCIETY 18 DEPENDENCY 18 THE FORCE OF LIFE 19 UTOPIA 20 APPLICANTS OLDER THAN 24 20 TITMOUSE 21 TEN COMMANDMENTS 22 RUNAWAY 23 NONSENSE 24 TENNESSEE/BILLS MATCH 24 AMBROSIA 25 ONE LONG LAST LOOK 26 I
PROCRASTINATION 26 HIS BEAUTY 27 FAMILY 29 IMPULSE 29 INDEPENDENCE 30 CHINESE RESTAURANT 30 LEAH 31 BUS RIDE 32 MOUNTAIN FORTITUDE 33 A SNAIL’S LIFE 34 FULSOME 35 NATURE’S SEASONS 36 FALL 36 WINTER 37 SPRING 38 SUMMER 38 BAPTISMAL 39 STITCHES 40 JEWISH IMMIGRANT GIRL 40 THE MUNCHKINS 41 THE DREAM OF AUGUST 16TH 1999 42 HOW MANY MORE WARS BEFORE ARMEGEDON 43 DARK WIDOW 44 A JOB 45 WHY CRY WHEN I’M GONE 47 CONTROL 48 OLD AGE 48 MID-LIFE 50 MARTY 50 SADDLE UP 51 MY GRANNY SAID 51 BELIEVING 52 SIGNIFICANT OTHER 52 INSECT BITE 52 A MAN OF GOD 54 UNLUCKY BLONDE STRIKES-OUT AGAIN 54 II
SWEET BIRD O’ YOUTH 55 THE STRENGTHS OF A WOMAN ( THE WALKER - PART ONE ) 55 SUPERSTAR 58 GINGER BRANDY 59 THINGS REMEMBERED 60 THE BABYSITTER 61 RING – RING – A – LING 63 SURGERY 63 RAGS TO RICHES 64 SHE WANTS TO HEAR VIOLINS 64 SHOPPING 66 A-TRAIN 67 EXIST IN PEACE 68 SHE IS GONE 69 EINS ZWEI G’SUFFA 70 EIGHTEEN 71 PERFUME 73 RENDU HOUSE 75 LIL’ BIRD 76 SELFISHNESS 78 SCAR TISSUE 79 LOVE 80 DEFEAT 81 HE HAS MY NUMBER 82 JUNE 12TH, 1999 83 THE GREENHOUSE 5/90 ( ST. THOMAS, USVI - MEMORY OF ROB ) 84 FAMILY (II) 85 DREAM PHENOMENA 85 NAIVETE 86 BUFFALO WEATHER 87 PERSONALITY 87 WORRISOME 88 SHADES OF YOU 89 REAR VIEW MIRROR 90 I LISTEN 91 OFTEN TIME 92 THE OTHER WOMAN 92 THE TWO WORLDS (1991) 93 III
ALL MY MEN 96 I’M NOT THAT KIND OF BLONDE 97 FILM NOIR 99 DREAMS ( I ) 100 SISTERS UNAWARE 102 WHO CAN DEFINE LOVE 103 LIFE 103 TIMING 104 DEMONS FROM THE PAST 105 I LONG TO BE HAPPY 106 GIRLFRIENDS 107 HOLLYWOOD 109 SOLILOQUY 111 SPOT * COFFEE 114 YOU ( I ) 115 LABOR, RESPECT 116 IT WAS TOO LATE 118 THE PIGS 119 PORT JERVIS, N Y ( SUMMER 1979 ) 121 BEYOND MY COMPREHENSION 127 LUCK O’ THEE IRISH 127 CHANGES 128 UNKOSHER 128 BIKER LOVE 130 MARRIAGE 131 NOTORIOUS 132 THE SILENCE 133 BLOSSOMING 133 SARAH 134 ENEMY AMONGST THE ENEMIES 134 INFIDELITY 135 SHIMMER 135 GOD’S WAKE UP CALL 136 SLAVE 137 SKYLARK AND VENTURA 138 ME 139 DRUNKENESS 140 DREAMS ( II ) 141 SHARE THE LAND 141 THE LIES 142 IV
FAKE EXPERIENCES 143 MISUNDERSTOOD ( NOVEMBER 28, 1956 ) 144 BEWARE OF THE DISGUISES 144 MASKED 145 YOU ( II ) 145 INNER CITY BLUES 146 MARRIAGE 147 LOVE 148 CHARTERING THROUGH INTERMISSION 149 OBLIGED 149 HELL 149 THE OPPOSITE OF - COLD HANDS, WARM HEART 150 HUMBLE BEGINNINGS 150 SILENCE 152 MY HUSBAND SAID 152 MY LOVE 153 GHETTO TALK 153 YOU ( III ) 154 Mr. GOLDEN DEAL 155 WHO’S THE BOSS 156 JAIL 157 GRAVEYARDS 157 THE WALKER ( PART TWO ) 158 DARK VICTORY 160 CARPE DIEM 160 I’M STILL WAITING 160 QUERY 161 ODE TO MOTHER TERESA 161 RIVERSTONE 161 SORRY WRONG NUMBER 162 SONG FOR SHARON 162 MORE HUMAN THAN HUMAN 163 BUFFALO SOLDIER 164 LOVEJOY 166 TWILIGHT ZONE 166 LUCID DREAMS 170 MARGO’S 170 ASK THE MAID 171 V
IMBALANCE 172 YOU’RE IN DEBT 2 HIS IMAGE 173 RAINDANCE 173 THE BAR LIFE 174 NAMES 175 ONLY NINETEEN 175 I LOVE FROM A DISTANCE 176 MAILBOX NUMBER 176 RUMORS 176 HOW FOOLISH OF YOU 177 DECOY 178 BRIDE MEETS GROOM 178 OLD ADAGE 179 MOOSE 179 ANSWERING MACHINES 179 GIRLS LIKE HER 180 LEVELED 182 WILD MUSHROOMS 182 NEEDFUL THINGS 182 PINK LEMONADE 183 IT IS NOT ENOUGH TO BE JUST BLACK 184 IT IS NOT ENOUGH TO BE JUST WHITE 185 THE SECRET 185 TALK SHOWS 186 LONELY FACES 187 GREENCARD 187 TELEMARKETING 187 CHANGE OF IMAGE 188 JEALOUSY 188 FEAR 189 BEAUTY 189 RACISM 190 HATE ( I ) 190 INCOMPETENCE 190 HAPPINESS 190 HATE ( II ) 190 LOVE 191 GREED 191 MY WORLD WAS TURNED AROUND 191 VI
WHORE 192 BEDLAM 192 VILIFY 192 HUMAN MASTERS 193 THE DEATH OF MARY 194 PREJUDICE 194 MOULIN ROUGE ( THE RED WINDMILL ) 195 TWO MINUTE POEM 196 SOMETHIN’S GOTTA GIVE 196 LIAR 196 VIKINGS 197 ( A MID-SUMMER’S NIGHT DREAM ) I KNOW OF A MAN 198 THE LIGHTHOUSE 199 THE FARM HAND 200 FAME 202 SUCCESS 202 FAME AND FORTUNE 203 SPOILED 203 THE DESPERATE HOURS 204 SECONDS 205 THE TEMPEST 206 NAKED TRUTH 207 WITNESSING A JEWISH WEDDING 207 GOOD AGED WINE 208 DOCTOR’S ORDERS 209 BESIEGE 209 BURDEN OF PROOF 210 LOVE 210 BEAST OF BURDEN 210 LAMPLIGHT 211 FRIENDSHIP 212 WEALTH 212 INTELLIGENCE 213 PURSUIT 213 DECEPTION 213 QUESTION MARK 214 ROUTINE 215 PAIN 215 VII
CHILDREN 215 GLORY 216 CHARITY 216 DEVOTION 216 CHAOTIC 217 FREEDOM 217 UNWELCOMED STRANGER 217 MY BEAUTIFUL CLADDAGH 219 GUILT 219 SELFISHNESS 219 RETIREMENT 220 MOMMY AND DADDY 220 THE 60s 221 FRIENDS 222 THE WELL 222 PATCHWORK 222 NUDIST BEACH 223 I’M COLOR-BLIND 223 MAYTAG 223 THE SLAMMERS 224 INDIFFERENCE 224 LIL’ DRUMMER GIRL 225 FROM DAYS OF YORE 225 YOU HAVN’T EXPERIENCED REAL LOVE 225 MODERN DAY POET 226 MOBILE 227 SUBURBIA OR BOOMTOWN 227 THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH 228 WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO ROCK 229 APRIL WINE 229 HYPOCRISY OR DEMOCRACY 230 ANGELS WITH DIRTY FACES 230 REQUIEM FOR A DEAD MAN 231 MANY YEARS HATH GONE BY 231 RITA WRIGHT 232 LADYBUG 233 MODERN AMERICAN DEMOCRACY 233 THIS PASSING, FADING OF LIFE 234 SACRED ADVICE 235 MY RICH 235 VIII
WILD CHILD 236 FELINE 236 BOTTOMS-UP, DOWN THE HATCH 236 POETRY (II) 237 TANGERINE 237 THE HAVES AND HAVE NOTS 238 GRETA GARBO EYELASHES 238 OLE’ MAN BUFFALO 239 TWO MILLION DOLLARS 240 DON’T BRING ME HERE AGAIN - I HEARD HER SAY 240 MY SIMPLE MELODY 240 FIVE O’CLOCK HIGH 241 EVANGELIUM VITAE 241 KATHERINE THE GREAT 242 AMERICA’S VETS 242 DARK TUESDAY 243 MEMORY OF DANIEL 243 ODE TO MEN 244 OLGA 244 ( 43 & 23 ) 245 REMORSEFUL 246 TALENT 246 MADAME CROW 247 ODE TO BEER 247 RAINBATH 248 PANSY, LOUISE, CLARA, ROSIE AND ESTHER 249 ICICLES 249 OLD BOOTS, OLD SHOES 250 LIPS SEALED (CONFIDENTIAL) 250 SALUTATION – TO LIFE 252 CODES N’ REGULATIONS 252 GYPSY WITHOUT MOLE 252 DON’T JUDGE 253 IX
PREFACE Time Passages My journeys through life are expressed in magnitude. Your patience, thoughtfulness and kindness in sharing my poems and emotions only fortifies my gratitude for being whatever small particle of matter within the hemisphere and that I may continually exude whatever graciousness, tenderness and understanding I’ve encaptured and encultured through the experiences of your lives mingled, meshed, tamed, educated, replicated and secured with my own experiences forever as long as I live. So through the Time Passages I’ve endured, I’m still learning to prosper from and recreate the glorious treasures I’ve been gifted with and those that were new found for me to explore. Through these Time Passages of sorrow and joy in my life I want to bestow upon you my gift of freedom to encompass your lives. A gift so priceless like love that can never be bought or sold cheaply. And you’ll never loose sight of it simply because, the freedom and love are one within you enabling you to X
fly to the heights of the regions you dare to soar. To perpetuate the flight, all that’s needed is faith in yourself and the God within yourself. A strong mind, will and the love of life, and beauty will exonerate you. The ecstasy will astonish others to do for themselves. Thank you for your time and patience. I hope my stories have enlightened you somehow. XI
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I want to thank God - for giving me the talent to produce my work in all forms of artistry. Surely any given virtue of talent is a gift from God. I would like to emphatically thank and honor, all those who’ve helped make this book a reality for me. From the beginning to the end, “ J.A.R. TROPHIES ” (Steve Piejba) Computer Processing and Editing Neil Smirinov “Kinkos” for Endless Photo Laser Copying (Eric) at Queen City Imaging for File Editing ( Daniel Dowd ) at 10th House Designs for his endless time, patience, faith, professional insight and technical computer upgrading, enabling me to continue my work on both books ( Time Passages and Crown ) 2000 Quality Book Bindery © 2008 Revisions International Library of Poetry © 1999 - 2001 for featuring poems from my new books “Time Passages” and “Crown” into their anthologies. And for incorporating my poem “The Spring Harbinger Has Spoken” In their Best Poets and Poems of 2003 It’s a great honor to have such a reputable organization recognize and appreciate your works of talent. Thank you www.poetry.com Front Cover / Inner-Flap / Back Cover- Flap photos - Chanel (7) Joel Barone Photographer © 2008 Layout Design Andrew Spitler ZoomCopy.com © 2008 Also for the jacket book covers, “Timepassages” and “Crown” plus the starving artist discount; I’d like to graciously thank Printing Prep Inc. in Buffalo, NY XII
Arlene at the ( Lovejoy ) A.B.L.E.Y Advisory Paper © 1999 -2001 for printing my poems and offering opportunity for exposure. Infinite thanks most graciously to the faculty at U.B. N. Campus who’ve supported me and shed light in my life. And to Barbara Jones a generous, sincere person and teacher at Emerson High School in Buffalo. She was very loyal, appreciative, inspirational and supportive of my work. She is a gift to her students. Thank you all ever so much. A novice needs all the help they can get. Love Selina Revisions 2000 – 2008 Library of Congress © 2008 Selina Holman http://www.crownpublishing.org/ All copyrights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in cases of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and / or reviews. XIII
THE ART OF POETRY Poetry is an art of Expression through words - Lending voice to the silence Within the soul, spirit - And heart of a person. It is a channel to sift through, Explore and diversify - The beauty and many talents of mankind. It is a vehicle used To stimulate creativity – Within the mind, Enabling everyone to - Pen and transfer their Silence onto paper all that - Inhibits them and motions them Into a movement of freedom. It is one of the various - Gifts from God, to be able to voice - and sing out what is harboring, deep within the depths of - the well-being you are. And by far it is an - even greater gift to succeed, by fine-tuning someone’s ear to hear the lucidity - as they read the verses, and are made aware that XIV
another’s voice is echoing - throughout the atmosphere. And those feelings become mutual amongst us all if we only - Take time to listen! My grandfather, grandmother, and myself all wrote poetry. My grandfather’s poetry - was short-story form, and rhythmical. My grandmother’s poetry - was basically spiritual. Mine is a blend between the two. XV
MONOLOGUE “Ode To Gypsy Lifestyle” Through the ages of Europe the history of the gypsies and gypsy lifestyles have intrigued and beguiled many people throughout the years. They’ve been scorned and vexed by high society. They’ve been made to fear other neighboring countries and have been threatened to be eradicated by others. Personally I feel there’s a wealth of knowledge to be learned and grasped from the gypsy lifestyle. Mainly lessons on survival. I picture myself as a little gypsy somewhat with a gypsy lifestyle all my own. I traveled somewhat extensively, not because I planned a nomadic life but, for economical reasons. I learned to be strong, to survive and to take chances in order to stay alive. XVI
GYPSY SPIRIT And I set before you my gypsy spirit. Take my soul - full of backbone, It is strong, enduring it wants to embrace you. Take my soul - it is healthy. It is orange like - Krishna Saffron Robes, I want to enthrone you. Take my spirit - it is bright, cool, It is a natural beam of light. It changes shades of hue, from powder blue to dark-blue-green. These are my emotions so serene - opening up to receive you. Take my heart, it is dark deep red filled with healthy forceful blood - that flows and nurtures my love onto a dominant, invading world - purple with rules and significance. Take my body, still youthful as if it were dipped in gold - though I know I am aging. Take my mind it is a relaxing silvery-white and still thirsts for understanding and all knowable peace. As a gypsy I take on the world. XVII
And through my eyes - it can easily become a bright piercing yellow, healthy, inviting, friendly, or it can become - soiled, dark brown, murky, infested with worms - of rivalry, or green, sour, unfruitful, and poisoned by envy. Yet I dwell within the world, but, will be remembered in essence - as only a small particle of this world formed by ideology. So take my gypsy spirit - it is a gift to you, a fertile seed from the depths of this earth. Plant it deep inside you, let it - grow and awaken the many talents within you. Let it free you - to give back to humanity. XVIII
BIRDS’ EYE VIEW I awake suddenly but, gracefully to greet the sunshine staring at me - beaming in heavenly, showering great radiance and bliss upon me. As the rays crash through my window, with a birds’ eye view - I peer through - the gleaming sunlight. I can see the frantic people scurrying to and from - the corner store. Their quest, the morning paper and that first cup of caffeine - so desperately needed. As they hurry towards - their destination. My mind is at peace. My spirit is uplifted. I feel alive, anew. I have survived once more - the tango in my dreams from the night before, from the unrest of my soul - that journeys to other plateaus in search of a love I once adored. I can close my eyes and with a birds’ eye view - see my day already planned before me. Whether or not my daily accomplishments run smoothly - depends upon the amount of idiots I let upset me. 1
But through a birds’ eye view; - my third eye view, I lift my eyes and - like a strong eagle, I set to soar high. Believing in myself I am open-minded like the passing breeze - on the wind. I’m not quite disenchanted because of past disappointments. My mind is solid like gold and free to explore regions unknown. I’m kind-hearted yet, there’s - a hollowed part teeming with unfulfilled dreams. But, I am strong like the trunk - of the redwood tree. My feet are planted deep within - the roots of this earth. However, narrow the roads - may be I’m aware my happiness shouldn’t depend just upon - reaching my destiny and though temporary the path journeyed - along the way will eventually lead to the stair steps of heaven - that special day. But, now I must tread onward with - the stars guiding me. Because again, when the moon arises at night, it will alter my moods, it will conceal all the days events - from my sight but, I will thank God for every breath that carried me throughout the course. There’ll - be no remorse for any endeavors unaccounted for. Now I will lay - my body to rest and try to dream beyond the ominous clouds - 2
and find that silver lining awaiting patiently for me the next day - when I awake gracefully before the sunshine. I will stand in my room and with a birds’ eye view - I will see naked in the mirror, smiling back at me the beauty - of my future, my child’s future without fear. With a birds’ eye view - I sneer at nothing but, dare everything for - a life of peace. SHE IS BEAUTIFUL She sits on the bed facing the mirror naked in the sunlight. Her soul rejuvenated, She gazes at her beauty. She’s wearing no make-up, her roots have grown in. Her spirit is strong. Her breasts have not sagged, she sits gracefully - like a symphony but, the mirror reflects the sad music vibrating - in her heart. Tormenting her with sad - memories of convictions held in reverence towards - 3
the man she loves. A man she’s most doubtful of. The mirror reflects - all the lines, the scars, the blemishes, the flab. Suddenly her inner spirit - consoles her. I am creative, I am wiser, I am loving, I am fire. She sits meditating. Her mind is somewhat - weary, uneased. Doe’s he still love her? The world isn’t watching us now - and comparing us to the others. When he sleeps at night she is near him. She breathes his every breath. She feels his every heart beat - when he dreams. Doe’s he dream of her - as she is reflected back at him in the mirror? Suddenly, her pulse beats faster. She gracefully rises - from the bed. She moves closer to the mirror - and puts on her make-up. Gone are the lines, gone are the blemishes. She styles her hair neatly, gone are the roots. She drapes herself in something - feminine and inspiring. Gone are the scars, gone is the flab. 4
Her inner spirit consoles her. I am beautiful. Her mind is now at peace, - she’s secure. He still loves her, as society sees her. She peers on; - softly she utters a prayer, “There is still time, he will love me more - and as I am”. Hopefully he won’t leave her, she doesn’t like to be alone. STOLEN HOURS Stolen hours from days of solitude - lifeless and unproductive. Stolen hours from days spent in fear - of great magnitude. Timeless boredom and continuity, precious moments of my life - buried in bitterness and regret. Stolen precious hours from my life by - the hands of misery. And all these weaknesses, hypocritical to happiness - have burdened the freedom of my well being, my youth. Heartfelt are lost - valuable qualities deducted. 5
VINTAGE EYES With vintage eyes I see everything beyond the sky’s bright blue horizons and everything within the deep dark seas - of the night. I see the love and beauty of others, that caress and warm - my body like a baby’s blanket fondled and held near so tight. I look deep into the eyes of a person - and see clearly the imagery of their soul. And with vintage eyes - and a trained mind, I see, hear, feel and - speak to you with my eyes and picture presently - a scenario of feelings I can relate to you, as they are - harbored within your heart, yet, without you ever uttering a single word. People only fail - to communicate amongst one another when both are speaking vainly at the same time, - and no one’s listening. Then the words are - strangled, trapped and suffocating within the soul. And this agonizing pain - reflects back at me. With pity, tears are - 6
shed through my vintage eyes, because you see - the words are but a mere disguise. I hope you can see - simply what I am saying. DRIED ROSES The evening is ours under a star studded sky. Serene am I on this - exquisite date with him. He is sincere without - regulations or inquiries regarding my visage or age. He says I accentuate everything he’s dreamed of - all his life. With these words I am humble, but not surprised. Then he concentrates - and says my breasts are like rose petals - soft, valore. He says my soul, spirit, and freedom are like - cups of blush Zinfandel, the goddess of wine - for him to drink, devour. And underneath his kiss - so debonair, secure, I equate my youth - to my womanhood, and lend to him - my heart temporarily, because I know for sure - 7
I am aging yet, my body will become - beautiful still life … dried roses - for him to eternally adore. LOVE TRIANGLE He was number one, she was number two, I was number three. Yes, indeed I got hurt - waiting patiently as his supernumerary. I love him still - but, triangles don’t work. DAY’S END It’s home from work - and into a hot shower. I sit resting my feet, then finally warm-up - with a glass of wine, and gradually off to sleep. HIDEOUS It’s not just the headaches I get because of your selfish ignorance - on not knowing how to love me unconditionally - that hurts me so, it’s the anguish I feel deeply, dreadfully - because of your rebellious ignorance - in choosing not to 8
love me unconditionally - that scars me so. And how hideous - it all is. AGED It’s not so much that old age sets in - crippling us with much grief that aggravates - people in life, as much as the lack - of feeling content, and happy with oneself, that really frightens - and disturbs people, facing the reality - of old age in life. 3 STOOL-PIGEONS Standing on the corner, our heads swaying left and right constantly, like when observing a tennis match. With much anticipation - we synchronize our watches, as we’re all eager to reach our destination. As we scrutinize each others’ visage - we grimace at the tardiness of Metro. Resembling 3 Stool-Pigeons - we wait patiently at the bus stop, like loyal patrons in the ticket-line for the circus. 9
WHAT WILL IT BE LIKE THEN What will it be like then, 1999 is drawing near the end. What will it be like then, in the year two thousand? Will there be any change in society? There’s so much poverty. There’s so many strong minds and souls – that are lost amongst the insanity. We’re still over-populated, and children are birthing faster - than the speed of light. The powerless and weary feel useless and find - no justice in sight, or meaningful voice toecho the words of songs unsung within their grieving hearts. So they go mumbling quietly to their graves - unheard, with majestic thoughts and ideals non-preserved. What will it be like then, in the year two thousand? There’s too many lying in hospital beds - lame and dying. There’s too many lonesome - voices still crying of pain from national wars. Will it only be a year - prosperous for computer aged technology? What will it be like then, in the year two thousand? I guess only time will tell, only time will heal, and only with time will there - be a change in reality. 10
WOMEN MY AGE Their children are grown and have moved on. Their Ex sends the - check every week and, so their bills get paid. With so much extra time - on their precious hands, they’re free to explore, to blossom and mature - into the next phase - of their lives whether it be the financial world - or the spiritual world. Women my age still - want to be loved, charmed. Still want to be held, heard. Still claim respect, pride, and dignity during their - mid-life crisis. Women my age want to remain youthful and sometimes - don’t act their age and, sometimes lie about their age - because, they long for the attention. Women my age still - want girlfriends and not the tension between - younger snarling jealous women. Women my age seek - out younger men, older men, in general just good men - who won’t dishonor us but, cherish and stay with us - til’ the final end - of our days. 11
IN MEMORY OF JENNY I didn’t know her very well, but, she was in her early twenties - and patternized by adolescence, while sifting through - parental peer pressure, and her boyfriend’s chauvinism. As I looked into her little eyes - full of inquiry on the small face so pale, I felt somewhat fearful - of the challenges awakening her conscience, as her small body - too thin and frail from poor diet while she’s combating her - freedom and independence. But I pray she remains - strong and guided. She took pride in my stamina and well being. Somehow I feel she needed a big sister image. Someone she could confide in. She asked me if I could - write a poem for her. But, I couldn’t organize - the right words before. However, I feel she’ll prosper greatly in - the near future. She’s young, with gentle ways. This poem’s for Jenny. Hope she’ll read my book one day and - remember me as a symbol of strength. 12
POEM FOR JENNY As a mother hen - looks after her lil’ chicks, I may have appeared - distant or stand-offish only because I gracefully watched you from afarwith a steady and tamed eye to make sure - you seemed balanced. I am older. But, though you are not of my seed or, bred with the - best of feed I could offer you - I knew deep inside you must journey your path, paving your way, finding your needs in life. I too, was once your age. But I’m sure you – will not fail in your endeavors, but, will reflect the person - you were meant to be, not through my eyes, yet, hopefully through the eyes of your family. But, most importantly - through your eyes, the eyes of Jenny. Good luck in life!. A WOMAN’S TRAINING We put on the night cream, day cream, and in between cream - to captivate our everyday audiences - with our youth, womanhood, and vitality. 13
We want to assure them - we’re not fading from the glorious world of reality - but, want to prove to them we’re enduring and maintaining enough structure - in our lives that’s filled with energy. And even if we still fantasize about immortality - every now and then, a little vanity helps, actually goes a long way - when you’re conveying an image of marketable beauty - to average pragmatic men, who think they’re solid men - because they’re young, wonderful, wealthy, capable, available but, don’t realize - they still need a woman’s training to remain gentlemen. BEMUSED It’s ironic isn’t it, I know men with - elaborate pensions but, live in cheap run-down rooming houses. They survive on T.V. dinners, drink ninety-cent drafts and dollar shots on the side. In addition they steal the soap and toilet paper - from the bathrooms of taverns. They dwell on mundane politics, without ever containing one - vibrant pulsating thought in their head towards creativity. Yet, they steadily dream-up - 14
pictures of gorgeous Barbie Doll type women that they see - in Playboy magazines. Rich women and rich fantasies - they can afford but, lacking genteel mannerisms, and macho guts, they refuse - to pay for that price of lavishness. SPIRIT Once as a youngster I was watching a religious program on T.V. with my grandma, and I became lethargic. Soon my lil’ head - started bopping up and down. And my lil’ eyes were - shut as I fell fast asleep. With much concern and sternness, my grandma replied - “How can you fall asleep listening to the word of God?” And in my lil’ innocent voice I replied “One must know how to preach the word of God - for me to listen and, not fall asleep”. I don’t need to hear - anyone speak in tongues. I need to hear and feel - that preaching spirit!. 15
WHOSE LAND IS IT ANYWAY? Whose land is it anyway? They come by the zillions, cross the borders, oceans and seas. But, do they remember - and appreciate the beauty, that was once the Indians? The land of milk n’ honey. We all want success and freedom, but, freedom has always carried - stiff consequences, high prices. Nevertheless, new comers, natives and present tenants - all have children and they need a future, a life. We all bleed precious drops of blood from our - ancestors’ past and present. Theirs and our ancestors’ blood - was shed in wars of tyranny, henceforth, they survived - while dreaming out their dreams with their children at their bosom. But their selfish intolerance will aid them none. Whatever, country they defect or migrate to there are rules. There’s one flag they must adhere to, one harmony of race they must abide by. Whose land is it anyway? Shed were too many tears and, still it is too late to cry out - with guilt of injustice ways. All I’ll say is that we’ll all pay - for the greed, and temperance one day. The innocent pay now. But, soon we will try to - recount the crimes and submit the punishment orderly. Then it’ll be too late somehow - 16
we will all die in a world … where everyone owed rent. POETRY (I) When the words are strangled and the well made dry, from withered feelings that - you cannot portray, fear not, nor wrangle - with the thoughts in your mind. Oh! spirit be silent, calm, so that - tomorrow’s endeavors will succeed without delay. But, if the words then - cannot still be self-contained, you can always muse - at other verses, and become inspired - by their refrain. SNOW WHITE On the bus she noticed me, sitting across from her. She realized I shattered her - lil’ menagerie white as snow. She realized I lived in her - precious little neighborhood unwelcomed. Feigning to be little miss Snow White - she sat upright with her snooty friend; all straight-faced and high mighty. She’s probably 70 to 80 years - and wears it well. Her hair in soft fluffy curls - white as snow. Her face also white as snow; yet she frowned in dismay. She muttered a few cruel words 17
about me to her friend. I heard them slightly - but, could read her lips. Before approaching my stop - I whispered to her “Don’t judge, I wouldn’t judge if I were you”. TECHNOLOGY – A HANDICAP OF SOCIETY Technology - imaginative, intuitive, provocative, adventurous, industrious, ingenious. Technology, I’m all for it. But, is man continually creating - better, greater, technology, machinery, devices enabling mankind to be free to educate their minds soley - and abstain from self indulgence, and becoming lazy? Or is this technology, machinery - just another communicable disease, spreading swiftly amongst you and me - to annihilate mankind by eliminating jobs?. Yes! first we’ll all become lethargic, useless, then finally extinct. DEPENDENCY It is late into the wee hours of the morning. I should be sound asleep, blanketing my dreams. Yet, the little lamp shines on - as my heart pours out in ink, what my mind refrains, before the eager - thoughts become vague. Little typewriter - don’t fail me now because, typing isn’t - as laborious as writing. 18
So I’m dependent upon you - I must finish my book, and get through the deadline. THE FORCE OF LIFE Ten lil fingers ten lil toes, two lil dots for eyes and a button - for a nose. It’s so memorable the first time you hear the lil voice cry, laugh. The lil look of surprise in their eyes as they see the world for the first time, after exiting the lil oven - they were in for nine months. Doesn’t it touch your heart; - these memories that are forever special - and can’t be torn apart, or thrown away? The soft lil flock of hair on their head that you don’t for the moment - think about perming ever. The soft lil face to touch.. The feather weight lil body that could probably float - in thin air. The first lil footsteps ever taken slowly, gradually. I don’t care what religion or 19
what race you are. You do have a heart don’t you? It beats with the ;;; force of life doesn’t it? So please tell me - how could they child abuse? UTOPIA Good music, good poetry, good food, good health, - good men, women, children, friends, lovers and family - but, a planet doomed by Armageddon. However, this is my ideology of us all. Endless good times! - A dreamed-up utopia for sure. APPLICANTS OLDER THAN 24 The younger groups were called already - with all do respects. Everyone was jovial and clapped as they strove down the isle diligently. The audience was lighthearted, as the indomitable spirit - of mother nature’s youth pervaded the air. Suddenly, it was our turn - to prance down the isle. We, the next runner-ups - for future contestants; but older than those young tender lings, yes older than 24. In grave suspense everyone’s - head turned in awe. 20
Surprise, surprise! they never expected so many - applicant entries within that age bracket; to appear for a model/acting audition. And I’m proud to say I was a candidate. TITMOUSE They’re against me, they defame me. I’m not against them, don’t defame them. But challenged am I to a dual. Who am I? Who do they rule, well not me. A plot is pitted for me. They are of a higher gender, I am smaller, yet empowered - by serenity only. They hear my voice but, misconstrue the words. I am low on the totem pole. What does it take to befriend them? So I recoil allowing them to - think they’ve suppressed me, while in reality - I rummage through all their rotten sedimentary and - clean-up their dirty rudimentary. Upon realizing they’ve been cold-hearted towards me they - immediately apologize. They are huge with grandeur, I am small with humility. I’m a titmouse, small enough to incite trouble - but, smart enough not to. 21
THE TEN COMMANDMENTS I remember my granny was the first person to take my brother and me to see - the Ten Commandments at the movie theater. I was probably six or seven. I remember the movie captivated me so - there was this majestic feeling that kept me spellbound. It was the movie at that time seen by more people in the entire world. It was a movie - known to be holier than any other religious film produced. While watching the Ten Commandments I remember crying and vowing to my grandma that I would become a good girl from then on. But really I wasn’t a very bad six year old. I was like any other lil kid. I had my share of misdemeanors in life - like any child. But you know how grandparents are, they expect the best from you. So I repented and vowed to amend my lil naughty ways to grandma and swore 22
I’d be a good girl from now on! But tomorrow came, then something would get - me into trouble again. RUNAWAY We do the kookiest things sometimes as kids and without - realizing the hidden agenda, we hurt our parents carelessly. I really didn’t mean - to hurt anybody that day but, I was scared and wrangling with the guilt plaguing - my lil’ mind so I considered myself running away - from home for awhile. But, wouldn’t you know - I got off at the right stop on the train only to end up at my aunts house. She called mom, said “ I was there”. I had them both in tears. I didn’t mean to tell - the lil’ fib I did but, I promised to try to be a good kid and so … I didn’t get a spanking!. 23
NONSENSE When your lil’ head is weary, and peace of mind is absent - while you rest in bed, say a lil’ prayer and await his - wonderful presence to fill the room instead. Don’t probe and fill the corners - of your baffling mind with foolishness. When you have nothing wise to contemplate; It is better to dwell in the void - and silence alone and concentrate, until his precious spirit creates - new graphics and story-lines inside your mind; that restores peace sublime. For all else other than peace - of mind is nonsense. TENNESSEE / BILLS MATCH Saturday, January 08, 2000 last play-off for the Bills - before the Superbowl, however, there I sat in - a cozy downtown club up against the wall. With a small square wooden table - separating me from an avid loyal out-of-towner Tennessee fan; who like myself a loyal Bills fan - was very sympathetic for either team. And may the best man win! But, it was paddle-ball with - our brains and heads all night. Left, right, left, right - we took turns staring at each other, providing one another support - with a smile each time our favorite team scored. 24
Suddenly, it got real nervous. We both thought the Bills won, and we smiled and said, - “Oh well, maybe next year for Tennessee!” Suddenly, in spontaneous shock - a tumultuous moment occurred; causing territorial upset and frenzy from - the roaring crowd in the club. He looked at me, I looked at him. We both realized the judges - had redefined the point, and the score reversed for Tennessee! Unfortunate for me, yet a win for Tennessee. Oh well! we said, “Maybe next year for the Bills”. We remained friends - and as history repeats itself, it’s another attempt at the Superbowl, - yet still another loss for the Bills. AMBROSIA His soul, His spirit, his life given to us. Delectable, delicious. Can you see it, feel it, taste it, in the luscious dinner prepared - before you placed in those beautiful china dishes set - in front of you? Everything above, around and beyond us - He is. Like ambrosia on your tongue, and in your life. 25
ONE LONG LAST LOOK And all the things - he never did for his wife; I believe she’s forgiven him. And all the times he never spent with - my brother and I, ironic, but in our youth - together, we never spoke of him. And he came around one day, to take one long - last look at us all. Then he went away. With one silent breath, I will remember him - as the man called my father. PROCRASTINATION It is Friday night, I havn’t a date. I feel exuberant, alive. My consciousness arouses me. The truth henceforth - I need more excitement, more of a social life. But, as these words are paraphrased - and reverberates in my mind, and temporarily jitters my soul; - more sacred words are budding from my heart. Submerged into reality, echoing graciously through - the thin quiet air awaiting a voice to sing their verses - and without procrastination, engrossed in my deepest feelings - I format my life’s history on paper into the still of the night and taste - 26
the enjoyment of freedom of expression. There will be many Friday - nights to go gallavanting. HIS BEAUTY Friday April 30, 1999 approximately 2:30 p. m. The school buses were discharging the children in Sloan. I was on my way home to Lovejoy. Skittish children - crossing the streets, running about in a frenzy - here and there. You knew the day was done. School was out. It was Friday. It was the beginning - of the weekend. Cheering, laughter, plenty of time to play. Fun, fun, fun. Run, run, run - into their parents awaiting open arms. School was done. It was sunny out - and the forecast called for a sunny weekend also. Joy all the way. What can I say - I used to be a bus aide. I know those familiar smiles, familiar antics and gestures. The familiar sound - from a child’s laughter, 27
and hunger for a good time. Then a group of children rushed towards me, running, jumping playfully. Suddenly, I noticed a - striking face in the crowd. It startled me for a moment. And the look on the face - spoke to me out loud. I’ll never forget it, the face on a boy as he was - running, jumping joyfully , with school bag - clutched to his shoulder. He couldn’t have been a day - older than seven or nine. I peered on directly at him. His eyes met mine, and that’s when I - saw the deformity. A severe deformity that - disfigured his lil’ face. I could feel he noticed my apprehension. But, I didn’t frown though - my mind was held in suspension. Quickly, he ran onward - passed me, still smiling and having a good time. The other kids behind him, running in accordance with his stride. That’s when I knew - this lil’ creature had been instilled - with so much pride. Yes I knew he was still a child, and God’s lil’ child. So - he has to run, laugh, jump and play like all - the others. I hope 28
as he matures and grows older, he will become stronger. I hope other people - will see him as I did. As God does - see his beauty. FAMILY (I) It is a small house. It is a poor house. Yet, it is their house, in it a poor but rather - happy family abodes. The grass still gets cut. The hedges still get trimmed. At dusk a gracious meal is prepared for the - little ones each night. Homework must be - completed before dawn. And they peer through - their windows at the dismal community scenario - in hope of a more rewarding future. They pray together - as life goes on. IMPULSE Your reflexes are - natural physical attributes. Your impulses can be influenced. Your inner spirit - better known as your instincts; are for the most part as a whole - your greater judgment in life. Listen carefully - your inner spirit is always guiding you. 29