The Poetry Marathon

Breakfast: A Cultural Appropriation

8 a.m. Tom Kah Thai Coconut soup
A breakfast pleasure I feel guilty over
Because I’m a white American

I swallow
Warmth descends, waking me from the inside

Between spoonfuls, I remove chunks of galangal and lemongrass from the hot liquid
Remembering the first time when
I chopped the lemongrass as fine as a chive garnish

I didn’t know lemongrass was like bay leaves
A plant that gives its essence freely, but shouldn’t be consumed

That time, I’d tried to save the soup
Painstakingly fishing out tiny bits of sharp stem
But they were still there, invisible to me

Until I swallowed and they stabbed
Making their presence known from the inside

Now I know better
I leave the lemongrass in easily identifiable chunks
And I still make and eat the soup
Me: A white American

I listen to the news while I slurp, thinking
Do I want to be woke?

 

Confessional Prayer

With apologies to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,

I shrink from commitment when called upon.

Rather than answering, “Lord, here am I”, I hesitate.

Lacking for confidence, I instead suggest a mate.

For surely doing “that” isn’t what You had in mind?

Thank God, You patiently guide, stern but kind).

You answer our prayers (or so the gospels say),

But for most neon signs don’t blaze “this is the way”.

Yet giving thanks upon rising and just before bed

As well as before breaking with blessings daily bread,

And around the Table, asking for intercession and aid

Prayer functions to voice inner-most thoughts unsaid.

A Pragmatic Man

You have to be realistic about love,

the times you reach for the sun

are the times you burn your hand.

 

Don’t stray after a sizzling mirage,

it will consume you;

to find meaning in a meaningless world

one must look within.

 

There is passion in moulded clay

and a history of nurture and growth,

the prerogative is yours to know and learn

to attain the ever-elusive happiness.

6. Process

A verse… adverse

reverse, re-write…re-do!

Addiction to the form.

Complete, repeat

all right… delete!

A vision

to reform.

 

Decisions and revisions,

edit, shed it, let it go…

reactions and restrictions…

dedication to the show

off in my brain.

 

Dedicate, reiterate

enunciate in prose…

between the lines

I find in time

a space

where all

is known.

 

Like Tuukli the Weaver

I will weave for the tourists

said Tuukli

for the cameras

for the city sons

who like to see over

the top of a woman’s head

but I will not sell

my dream of riding bareback

on fucking icy steppes

in sling-back seal skin slippers

and nothing less.

MindU Jump UNeverknow

1. We never know

what each day will bring

what each day will bring

will be many things

we never know

the outcome in life

the outcome in life

can bring joy or strife

we never know

the blessing we hold

the blessing we hold is pure as gold

we never know

we never bothered to think

what wondorous life lays on the brink

 

2. Mind you

Mind your manners

Mind you

all that matters

Mind you

Pay attention to what is said

Later on

You will not dread

 

3. Jump with me

trampoline time

we’re kids again

do not whine

do not whine jump for joy

on this bouncy fun toy

on this bouncy fun toy

jump with me laugh and play

we want to enjoy

our day

Hour 6: Octopus

Octopus

We watch the skies for aliens
But we should watch the seas
For among us swims the octopus
An alien, if you please

He can change is size and color
And texture at his will
And disguise himself like anything
A clever sort of skill

You know he has prehensile arms
When startled, he shoots ink
More incredibly, scientists are learning
Just how this creature thinks

He has half a billion neurons
He keeps outside his head
They lay all along his arms, which means
His arms can think instead!

Those arms can find hidden items
Take a lid off of a jar
Make tools from natural objects
And even more bizarre

Those arms may even be conscious!
Now there’s a thought to shock
Eight creepy aware tentacles
You know, Let’s get off this dock!

Hour six “A Black Woman’s Hair” (don’t touch)

06 2017 Black Woman’s hair (don’t touch)
.
Some tips for white folks in a multicultural setting.
By Paul Sanford

Introduction: Evidently some of you have not read the manual,
and you are embarrassing us out there.
All you do is shampoo and condition, blow dry and run comb through your hair,
so you re fascinated by people who have to do more elaborate steps.
Don’t embarrass yourself or the people with you.
Don’t run your mouth or ask to touch any black woman’s hair.

White people listen
Learn from 400 years of history
There’s a lesson to be learned
and it’s not some exotic mystery.
I know that she is lovely and you are moved to stare
but please: don’t ever touch a black woman’s hair.

It isn’t fly by accident,
it’s not a case of luck
you’re seeing hours of work
and the spending of some bucks.
So jump off a cliff if someone makes a dare,
but don’t every touch a black woman’s hair.

She may have amazing booty
But you wouldn’t ask to make it clap
And her bosom may be marvelous
keep your gross hands in your lap!
I’ll give you a lesson how to treat her fair and square
Hey! Don’t ever touch a black woman’s hair!

Let me spell it out more plainly
keep your damn hands to yourself.
\None of your damn business
if she stores it on a shelf.
Touching other people is a habit to make rare,
Listen! Don’t ever touch a black woman’s hair!

6 Empty

I used to hate
Resent
Question
Long
Dream

Now there is almost—not quite—nothing.
A spark of the old passion dissolves into
Let it be. It is.

They just
are.

Sweet Amber Eyes

Little amber eyed gal

A man’s best pal

Cuts her teeth on his chair

While she watches him stare

She’s lost her home twice

You’d think she would learn to be nice

Arms to cuddle and hold you

Food to feed and uphold you

Little amber-eyed lady

Don’t be so shady!

By Kathleen J Kidder at 1:42 PM 8/5/2015