I heard the stories Throughout my childhood Whenever I asked about the pensive portrait Hanging on grandmother’s wall A cacophony of conflicting legends and lies Influenced by the character of the griot Aunt Iccie was a missionary Or a spinster teacher Who died in…
Tag: #2022marathon
Hour 13: Lucky
When I was five and our parents divorced I never cared to know why and You might think that was really bad When I was six and our mother left us at our father’s door in his rooming house because we were cramping her style…
Hour 12: Can’t you hear the drumbeat?
Celebrating Juneteenth, I resurrected the djembe and marched in the light of God Keeping time with syncopated rhythms, we danced and we sang with hope and heavy hearts how we knew freedom was coming “Oh, yes,” we sang, “I know!” With little rhyme…
Hour 11: In Thalia’s* House
chortles churn from the dark; a villain takes the stage: amusing, absurd leave them rolling in the aisles; struck to their shaking bones — humorously *In Greek mythology, Thalia is the muse of comedy behind the smiling face
Hour 10: Meeting of Minds
We knew it was love and passion that found us then marching in stride side by side signs high over our heads singing out our yearning for peace The fire still burns, tinged with lust, trust, and fidelity marching with one sign between us…
Hour 9: Relishing Chicago Summers
Food trucks from Maxwell Street Wafting temptation through the air Succulent polish sausages and Hot dogs overloaded with Onions, tomatoes, pickles, and Relish so green the grass grew envious Sitting on the stoop Washing down the steaming delights — fries on the side –…
Hour 8: Encountering a Harvest Moon in a Shin-matsudo Onion Field
Because I didn’t like the prompts and four is an unlucky number That fall night in Shin-matsudo Walking home along the ripening onion fields turning a corner to find the harvest moon blocking the path ahead. So large it could have landed like a…
Hour 7: Chickens with their heads cut off
Look at that bird! Is it a goose? Is it a swan? Legs and neck are too long. Swans walk gracefully; that bird looks drunk. Maybe it’s a flamingo! Aren’t they pink? Not all of them. It’s walking away! Did somebody get a…
Hour 6: For Shirley from Your Mama
It was not wise of you to drown me in your whys to keep asking me to share painful memories Why did you want to know Why I had no use for educated fools? Why I didn’t want you to be one? Why…
Hour 5: Mirror or Window?
Are you telling me a story? Giving me imagined characters whose uncertain fates matter enough to keep me caring Are they me wrestling with every struggle choosing wrong choices before our turning point? Are you showing me a story Giving me heroes and…