I am...falling tragically behind on all of my napowrimo writings....at best all i have is the beginnings of poems....but i'm kind of ok with that. i'd like to say that one day i'll be amazing enough to sit down and crank out thrity great poems in a day...or at least forgiving enough of myself to let the stuff i know is bad sit long enough to be edited. (for those that are confused...before, i refused to recognize the crap, now i don't even allow myself to write it down)
in any case, i asked my sister to write me a po-em and she did, and so here is the beginning of the one she's getting in return. don't know if you guys will get to see the finished version, but we shall see.
---
it is no easy thing
the strength it takes to hear someone say 'i love you'
no magic bullet
the courage it takes to trust it is no lie
if you are reading this
it's an act of will i have learned not to take for granted
i know what it is to deserve congratulations for crawling out of bed
to comfort yourself with only things you know will someday kill you
and pray that no one else will try to read beyond the lie
i hope this poem finds you well
less about survival stories
more about surviving
more about forgetting the struggle to survive
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Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Adventures in Katrinatown
Katrinatown 2010
1.
He is a torn denim jacket and dusty black boots with no laces that have never fit him
Dry lips that would smile if they remembered the steps
And a stomach kissed hard to the backbone
He carries in pocket a notebook of poems and a pencil on its last breath
This is day 7 of temperatures flung near freezing
Day 2 that he can’t feel his fingers
And he asks me where I think God is.
2.
Tent city is nothing to smell at high noon after weeks of rain
There is not light enough to make this pretty
Not hope enough to make it clean
I wonder
Why the suicide rate is so low
The answer:
No one here can afford a rope
3.
He asks if I believe in mercy killings
4.
I believe guns can kill people
It’s just hearts usually get to first
We lock our words in the chambers of our heart
And spin with the swelling of our lungs
I tell you
"I love you"
Is nothing to Russian roulette with
Good intentions are worse
5.
Did you intend to send help someday?
Are your intentions still in the mail?
Did you know good intentions promise just as much as the promise of reparations?
We will cash your good intentions as soon as my grandmother gets 40 acres
We will compile those good intentions to build houses on our land
6.
I have already seen the blueprints
Of a bigger and better city
A Cajun fried tourist trap of a town with riverboats down on the bayou plans to buy out every laundromat selling po’ boys and cleaners with the secret to gumbo
We will French Creole sprinkle hoodoo around a café named Lower 9th
And the rest will be just a memory
7.
Do you remember?
1965
And her name was Bessie
And they made no secret
Brought dynamite to make tinker toys of the levees for her to play with
She made angel dolls of men to give as hand me downs to her children
Like “Look Katrina
See what Mommy can do
Now see if you can do it bigger”
8.
There is a fine line between administrative mistake and
Government sanctioned genocide
9.
He has never been a thief
Won the class spelling bee in first grade
Was the only one to remember the capital ‘A’ in America
Now left fiending for aid in America
Because he can’t claim enough capital
He’s just collateral damage in a call from the Capitol
Saying, “Get those body bags ready”
We are years removed from the eye of the storm and still as blind as ever
I want to tell him God his present
But look at his shelter and get confused
10.
If the people of New Orleans still cant’ rest
My God
What is Haiti going to do?
--
Also - congrats to Eurydice, Renaissance, and Krosswords, I can't wait to see what's going to happen.
Peace Be
1.
He is a torn denim jacket and dusty black boots with no laces that have never fit him
Dry lips that would smile if they remembered the steps
And a stomach kissed hard to the backbone
He carries in pocket a notebook of poems and a pencil on its last breath
This is day 7 of temperatures flung near freezing
Day 2 that he can’t feel his fingers
And he asks me where I think God is.
2.
Tent city is nothing to smell at high noon after weeks of rain
There is not light enough to make this pretty
Not hope enough to make it clean
I wonder
Why the suicide rate is so low
The answer:
No one here can afford a rope
3.
He asks if I believe in mercy killings
4.
I believe guns can kill people
It’s just hearts usually get to first
We lock our words in the chambers of our heart
And spin with the swelling of our lungs
I tell you
"I love you"
Is nothing to Russian roulette with
Good intentions are worse
5.
Did you intend to send help someday?
Are your intentions still in the mail?
Did you know good intentions promise just as much as the promise of reparations?
We will cash your good intentions as soon as my grandmother gets 40 acres
We will compile those good intentions to build houses on our land
6.
I have already seen the blueprints
Of a bigger and better city
A Cajun fried tourist trap of a town with riverboats down on the bayou plans to buy out every laundromat selling po’ boys and cleaners with the secret to gumbo
We will French Creole sprinkle hoodoo around a café named Lower 9th
And the rest will be just a memory
7.
Do you remember?
1965
And her name was Bessie
And they made no secret
Brought dynamite to make tinker toys of the levees for her to play with
She made angel dolls of men to give as hand me downs to her children
Like “Look Katrina
See what Mommy can do
Now see if you can do it bigger”
8.
There is a fine line between administrative mistake and
Government sanctioned genocide
9.
He has never been a thief
Won the class spelling bee in first grade
Was the only one to remember the capital ‘A’ in America
Now left fiending for aid in America
Because he can’t claim enough capital
He’s just collateral damage in a call from the Capitol
Saying, “Get those body bags ready”
We are years removed from the eye of the storm and still as blind as ever
I want to tell him God his present
But look at his shelter and get confused
10.
If the people of New Orleans still cant’ rest
My God
What is Haiti going to do?
--
Also - congrats to Eurydice, Renaissance, and Krosswords, I can't wait to see what's going to happen.
Peace Be
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Adventures in Motherhood
So.
Here are the rules: we're going to talk about this once and only once, and then we're going to forget i mentioned it. kay?
Here are the rules: we're going to talk about this once and only once, and then we're going to forget i mentioned it. kay?
mom is sick. has been for awhile now, and it hadn't bothered me before...but now i'm concerned. i've been here since tuesday, and in that time she's eaten a slice of french toast, half a bowl of soup, couple crackers, one chicken wing, and some corn. today, is when she had the chicken, corn, and toast; my pop says it's the most she's eaten in any one day since thanksgiving. when we read "'twas the night before christmas" before bed, something in my spirit said "this is the last christmas you have with her", and i have yet to shake it. i want to crawl into bed with her like i did once when i was little and hold her, but i know the touching would hurt. she winces when we hug her and hopes we don't see. ok. i lied. i'm not concerned. i'm a little scared.
mm.
Peace Be
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