‘That’s All Folks’
“Hello my baby
Hello my honey
Hello my ragtime gal
Send me a kiss by wire
Baby my heart’s on fire
If you refuse me
Honey you’ll lose me
Then you’ll be left alone
Oh baby, telephone
And tell me I’m your own”
Be Fearless
I have a lot to tell you in little time
It goes way down deep in my soul
Makes me burst out with words
Listen! Only when you listen can you hear
Don’t worry about my mask it’s just a disguise
To hide the pain to take the blame
And its weight off my shoulders
Not that It did anyway
As soon as the sun disappeared into the dark musky clouds
Gone were my creepy friends who were once my world
I was left with heavy step
And it beats to the rhythm of my bleeding heart
I met a deceiver and became the Punch receivers
My life felt silenced with a threatening vacuum
Echoing in fragments of anxiety
Causing nerve breaking curiosity
My face became addicted to many powders and concealers
Did they conceal the pain?
I wish I had known many things before we met
Then I wouldn’t have settled for less
My love and compassion wouldn’t have evaporated into hatred
Hatred for myself
Why am I here?
These words I speak have shed on ink
Sade blamed me but Laide didn’t
Although I wished I had spoken out
Way back, way before the red flags
Way before the heartbreak
Way before I lost my sanity
Way before my bondage
Way before the fight and the flimsy excuses
Way before…
Tick tock, the clock beeps
Bidding the time,
Plastering the cracks
Mending the tears
Seeking help
Searching for peace
Finding Justice
You see I have known the Fox
I have met its pack
But now, I am the wolf who has joined the Alpha
Look, you need to realize that you’re not alone
They may call you weak
But you’re strong
They may call you ugly
But you are beauty
You are beautiful
So beautiful you let your scars
Become badges, badges of honor
To remind you of how much you’ve conquered
What you’ve conquered
In inches, feet, and yards
In seconds, minutes, and hours
For days, weeks and months
For years, decades, and centuries
To remove the veil of your face
Discard the mask
You’re worth more than gold
The world is on its edge waiting for your manifestation
Age has never been the barrier
Show them what you’ve become
Let them see what you truly are
A generation needs your touch
Grab those horns and live for you
Discover yourself and break forth
Stretch, stretch to the horizon
Like the eagles
Begin to see God’s creation in this new view
So that others can see the world through you
You matter to this generation
Because you matter To me.
Archeo-cheesi-ology
Oh, jeez!
Chester poemmatized about some cheese.
Of which my daughter, Emma, would be mighty pleased;
She’s an archeologist—who consumes history with ease—
Whenever a group works on a dig,
If they find a bit, they flip their wig,
Bits, or 30-pounder big!
The older the better,
Gouda or cheddar,
Wheel, wedge, or ball—
None go to waste. Uh, can I have a taste?
They gobble them all.
Velveeta out in Cairo, in a three-sided box;
Cream cheese in Jerusalem, with bagels and lox;
From Milan to Uzbekistan; Feta down to Whiz—
What you dig, you get to chow; that’s just the way it is!
Pompeiian Piazzos to Rome’s rubble ruins
Cheeses are the thing they dig, and heavily pursue ‘em
Because, of course, it has survived, in a perfect state of aged,
And now it’s been disturbed, it will soon decay.
Sometimes they find them crunchy,
Or covered in blue mold;
No matter who, how blue—who knew?! even how old,—
So, nibble what you can, from Scottish moor and bog,
From mountain top and villa; from desert sand to slog,
As archeology goes, it can’t be very long,
Til all the old-old-older cheese gets dug up and gone!
Visions Of Lands
Trust your rainbows
dancing in our eyes
Trust your unicorns
dancing in the night
Trust the poets
dancing with madness of life
Hour 23: Chee-whiz
My cycles and wheels of cheese
Have turned throughout the years
Initially of Kraft singles, I found myself afeared
A yellow-tinted substrate fastened to the bread
It seems a clear conclusion, that we have been mislead
A plasticine monstrosity that some of us abhor
Is forgotten against the backdrop of that which I adore
To the kitchen I would creep, quiet as a mouse
And leave a trail of cheeto dust as I snuck back through the house
To great chagrin, lactose could not be a friend of mine
I think of cheese above me in the moon and how she shines
An Ode to Marilyn
Oh, Mother! I remember you so clearly.
What a gift to recall your love,
the sound of your voice,
and how you held me
even when you were in a rush.
I recall peeled grapes and pate sandwiches
the crusts cut off to please my soft baby mouth.
Group hugs with daddy before bed,
teaching me words to read,
and numbers to count.
You played your guitar to help me sleep
just one note. I wanted just one note
so that I could learn the sound.
Too many notes kept me awake,
so you played just one
and let it fade away
as I faded into slumber.
Sometimes I went to your closet
just to smell your clothes
when you were away at work.
I knew your scent
and you knew mine.
How I loved the soft silk you wore.
Too few years we had together
before they took me from you
and took you from the world.
A far greater tragedy than the one
they played to the public.
I love you, Mother.
I will always love you,
not just for being my mother,
or for being who you are,
but for everything that we are together.
We are love, my mother and me.
My sweet, kind, cherished, beautiful mother.
The water’s cold when Daddy’s gone
The water’s cold when Daddy’s gone
I pull the tap straight up, expecting heat
to cover my hands. But the cold rushes
from the faucet and freezes my fingers
as I try to swirl the germs away. Daddy
wasn’t here to turn the knob and leave
it where he left it: ready to burn
and tingle small hands that won’t stop moving.
Hour Twenty-Three, Cheese Prompt
An Enormous Cheese, or, The Separation of Church and State
The separation of church and state in American politics
has long been held to be a constitutionally given right,
but in fact it would not exist and be articulated
were it not for an enormous, six foot in diameter cheese.
Massachusetts Baptists created the cheese
from the milk of 900 cows.
They sent it to newly elected President Thomas Jefferson,
who shared it with several hundred friends.
His gratefulness for the gift was such that he immediately
penned a letter of thanks to its creators
emphasizing how free worship among free people could not exist
were it not for the separation of church and state.
In reply, the Baptists were careful to note that the cheese
was created “without a single slave to assist” for a duly
elected president by free citizens of a free land, which
given that slave born descendants of Jefferson exist today,
was quite something for those Massachusetts Baptists to say.
#23- Fireflies
The sap greens in the darkness,
Masquerading as black,
The sound of insects buzzing,
Filling the air.
You notice one far off from you,
A sudden point of light flashing out at you.
Within no time at all,
You’re surrounded all around with these little flickers.
You can almost see them move,
Looking like they’re winking in and out of existence,
The sounds of the thunder and the owl,
And the sounds of these little buzzers.
You stand in place,
Turning all around,
Like nature’s Christmas lights,
You can see little shades of green.
One lands on the flower in front of you,
Its little brown body holding on to the petal,
Its antennae moving upwards and downwards,
As its light organ is brought to life.
A bright flash,
Scaring off any predators,
Sending secret coded messages to its species,
And impressing the ladies.
The fireflies lighting up the darkness,
Like little bursts of hope,
All you need to guide you home,
When you get lost in the darkness…
~thryaksha