Memorial Day at the land/frop chorus and swimming in the pond/Beaver Tail on my leg/the snake on my shoulder
We left the Soho area for the land
my son chops wood makes foot bridge
Danielle covers me while I sleep
on the floor-It is time for a barbeque
the fish jump out of the lake
my son-in-law reads old letters
we figure out
Dad brings a glass of water
I am thirsty in this world
the parade stops on Main Street
They clutter like frogs
chirp/the sad clown
whispers-It’s O.K.
The lilacs are drying-daisies dot the fields/the lilies fill the pond-pink/yellow our floating retreats-we gather
Along the circle
I sit in awe
of this world
the wars will end hopefully
and the round of peace
will begin…
Down at the corral/the guy w/ the Dreds-I also buy frm the older guy/bits of bead/a doll w/ a blue stain/Chinese pottery/well pizza comes to the middle class and we carve our fruit
We found the book
of the dead
It’s been here all along……
under the shelf
w/ the circus memorabilia
The faces I see I love/The pink/green/blue/yellow neon carnival/the standing folks like one of Dad’s paintings/it is night and we are traveling/nowhere in particular/the night is made for love/a song frm a movie I cannot get out of my mind/the part of the picture reveals a wheelchair with a woman being wheeled by her daughter and a group of children/the Bronx prevails a song of empathy-a light of angel /a pedestal for us to create
We sold the house
move to the country
no one comes by
the cookie jars stand in a row
they are waiting
for the moss to bloom
too/time to get to the rock
twist and form an image
a line/an idea
a cross breed
a fight this angular vision of life
- you in International Waters
do you think I’m made of stone
made of stone…
The poem printed below is by Gwendolyn Brooks
Truth-
I found it when I googled
my friend and mentor
Etheridge Knight
he used it to open his Malcom X poem
Thanks, Francy Stoller
Mischa/MischaLangdon shot nouveau drugs/vitamins/the late sixties
Even kids think she’s a fake
dragging those marionettes cross the stage
not caring if Jack’s feet are touching the stage
collecting dues for walking in and outta places
smellin’ Revlon
too young to play an igenue
she ace-bandaged her breasts
plays a young girl
skipping out Opening Night before the second act
Curved like a sickle
one eye tells all
a trumpet
flat and disgraced…
Forty five yrs ago we sat in the same room/talked to the same folks/what about the time in between-the travels/motels hair on fire-lengthy nights in the bush/waiting on calls/frm collectors/a grand design/tiin foil room and giant boxes for tablehandbuilt chairs and you in the driver’s seat/Wintergreen fragrance
The world’s wide-open
Mama crawls on the porch to water the tomatoes
- elegance her shawl over bony shoulders
At twelve I was no baby
wish I had a dog
for all of the children
I’ve raised since then
Diamond water/Labrador insane
The Clearing has been a process of acceptance and Refusal/the sand comes through our toes this rainy afternoon/the cloud matches our mood/the inability to run up the beach-thewait and frustration of not having a vehicle to say poems
Love
hiding on the corner
a stranger
sitting on the stoop
collecting ideas for their effect
- The bannister wiggles against the weight
of hundreds of years of artists
working it out
making sure that they have style
and color/texture and meaning
heart and soul-
We look for father signs/how does a man get wiped out/gone to hell/women too/my heart a carnival put to sleep/the seeds in the bureau/a sound made on the alter/a light coming in the parlor window/Cedar piled against the house/insulation and my shoes are gone for the umpteenth time/peace will come
climbing vines at the cabin
swinging through tree/ a clue now
as if peering to the future
a child gathers momentum through the parent’s eye
a cup of wine/ harrowing trip to the landlord
a swish of magic
this destined journey
rarely goes full circle
as if we’ve know the answers
This badge of courage wears thin/a lot of angst towards the recent deaths/twenty years of goodbyes/a hundred yrs of recipes
along the path
we’ve learned to practise
diligence
the carrying of water
preparing of meals
Dad sits cross legged
evenings and sketches
the children
Stealing The Dog’s Prozac-by Charlotte Lowe
I dove in
read this book published by Press 53
It’s filled with compassion
Charlotte/she loves
her grandparents,her mom
her daughter/her friends
her loves/her husband who left her in death
Buy this book-you will fly through it
It goes deep through the skin of life
in to the pain of love
Charlotte honors life and the journey
she knows a bird will land with the truth
she reveals and with beauty she sings her song
- loud and with definition-Thanks Charlotte Lowe-
Past the Pines/the little homemade soap shoppe/the library from Friends Lake/an old Ford pickup sits on the side of the road/We climb in the back and pull out antiquity-a Cambell’s soup plastic bowl/a Fiesta pitcher turquoise/ and a depression pink lid for a candy dish/the horses come up to us and want to know
the socks on my feet
the children
green-sweet air
tumblesaulting before the Tiger Lilies open
my heart
tethered and sewn
without you
I’m marble without veins
matches without salt…
Malcolm X always soothes my nerves/Been to the land of the trailer camps-the goats run back’n forth on small ropes/We harvest Fern tips on the side/and yellow swamp flowers/and giant wild lilies climbing the mountains
It is time for quiet now
the mass of wrinkled paper
in shopping bags/old numbers/sketches/letters/cards
they line the room
like Dandelion puffs/they
scatter throughout the house
Pick a number
play the card closest to your heart
I’m going now/I’m going now
like flicking out the light
our love/a torn pocket
smoke lodged in the throat
One peso for this dance
your long neck/wet kisses
thighs before you leave the bed
I am looking for a small gathering to invite to an event of heart/We waited for the plumber most of the night/the water rushed out of the main drain and we could not stop the flow
The door was open on the side of the house
they say no one gets robbed around here
but I know different
A good time for us is getting a ride
in the tow truck listening to country music
or sitting on the side of the road while
the cars go by-
Herman knelt in the yard/saw Christ and his mother through a branch of the old Oak tree/he wept for those you’ve diedWhen O cut myself
When I cut myself
I heard the doctor say
Let me take care of him- he’s mine-Nelson survives
like a deer in the meadow
whistling old jazz tunes
he enchants the birds…
ne’er a bag and the birds sing
Elvira set them nuts down
and have a coke w/ya man-friend
the world’s wide open-
