9 posts tagged “poetry”
Call me a bit off, weird or quirky, but I love filling a glass with ice, ginger ale or a citrus drink and placing a fruit popsicle (Edy's Fruit Bar) upside inside. Somehow when I have this concoction going my body instantly chills and I relax.
Tonight as I currently have a glass...ok plastic cup... filled with such I'm sitting back and letting my thoughts fly. As usual I don't know where to begin in spewing my thoughts, so everything feels like a ramble or a run-on sentence in my head.
However, tonight I'm stuck on better halves.
I've been reading a few blogs and came across a couple in which the blogger talks about missing their other or better half. Their half is away for whatever reason and in each case they have pondered on their existence without their half. I can't help but wonder how I will fair over the weekend when Papi leaves for his family reunion. True, I'll miss him, but it won't be the end of the world. It's the Snickerdoodle that I can't bare to be away from for an extended amount of time. I must say I did very well a few weeks ago when she spent the night with my aunt and grandmother. I only called to check on her once. I knew she was in good hands.
Still, this whole thing about better halves has been coming to me ever since my cousin's funeral last week. My cousin and his wife were married for 62 years. What scares me a bit, when people who are that in love and in tuned to each other; when one goes away in death the other isn't far from behind. This was proof enough for me a few years back when my Uncle Gyden passed away. Uncle Gyden and his wife, Aunt Louise, had been married 50 plus years. They loved, worshipped and did just about everything together. I will never forget the day of Uncle Gyden's funeral. At the end I had approached Aunt Louise wanting to give her a hug and let her know I was there. Needless to say I was taken aback when I approached her.
All my years of knowing Aunt Louise, I had never seen her cry at a funeral. I remember very vividly, especially at my great-grandmother's funeral, she was the one to rally everyone together and tell them to forget their tears of sadness. If anything it was a day of celebration. She was one of the strong pillars of the family. Yet on that day of her husband's funeral her world seemed to have ended. When I approached her she was full of tears. Nothing would come out my mouth. I stood there with tears coming from my eyes as she kept repeating,
"I can't live without him. I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't live without him."
A few months later, Aunt Louise was gone.
I'm aways in utter amazement when I come across a couple that in tuned to eacher that their hearts are really one. It's even more amazing when you can actually FEEL the energy that a couple that in tune radiates with. I feel very blessed to be or have been in the presence of such couples, because it renews my faith in real, unconditional, deep down to the core, consuming, undying love. I feel this way about my Snickerdoodle. I love waking up in the morning and seeing her face or feel her climb over me trying to wake me up.
"Get up Mommy!"
Though I don't want to spoil her to the point that she can't do without me, I'll admit sometimes it is hard. For the most part she is good at entertaining herself if I have duties around the house to complete or if I leave her in the care of a family member she'll busy herself with whatever. When I return in her sight that's when she falls apart. She'll run, crawl or fast walk to get to me. If we aren't in arms reach she'll start to whimper or even cry while reaching for me. When I'm in her sight, she watches every move I make and now that she is walking good, she'll try to follow.
Maybe I have spoiled her just a bit.
So many times I've replayed in my mind the events that has led up to her existence. Eventually I end up shedding a tear or two, because I realize that I am completely in love with her and I can't even begin to image my life without her.
When it comes to the type of love or intimacy that my daughter may not be able to provide me, I only hope that I am blessed to have such a person my life; for us to be on the same level and able to grow spiritually and emotionally together. Just as it is with my daughter, I want the divine given love; one that was chosen just for me.
Divinely favored.
The new issue of Essence magazine features singer Usher and his recently born infant son. I've only skimmed through the article and glanced at the beautifully done photo shoot, but I teared up as I read lyrics to a song he wrote for his son, especially the ending lines.
"I ain't going nowhere
Even when I get on your nerves
Cause I'm your daddy
My prayer for you
Son I pray for you"
- Usher "Prayer for You"
I've been inspired to sit down and pen something down for my better half. I haven't written anything for her since March, just before her first birthday. I just feel the need to go deeper with and about my love for her. I'm afraid I may never be able to convey such depth of loves in a written passage.
Ms. (In) Dependent
By Mahoganie
March 2008
Washington, DC
Ms. (In) Dependent
Decided to get up this morning and walk
With her destination unknown
Off she went
Cruising a narrow corridor
Exploring
A tapestry of clothing
A mountain range of dressers
Dusty peaks of exquisite smells
I watched from afar as she grabbed a leg of the old night stand
Balance and Confidence gained within
She looked back as if to say
"Don't fret. I got this!"
She passed a hill of old drop socks
Navigating her way through a maze of Donald Pliner, Ferragamo and Naturalizer boxes
Finally reaching a resting place
Grandma's bed
I couldn't help but to get a twinkle in my eye
My pride
For she is like me
In search of some kind of destiny
Child like Mother
Mother like child
for so long I was a melody
In search of the perfect lyric
God must have bionic hearing
Out of the ash of love confused with lust
he delivered my song
My better half
A life lyric helping to create the ultimate love song
I am her
She is me
My Aries wild child
To my calm Aquarian breeze.
Energy astound
"When you get blue, I feel it too."
Child like mother
Mother like child
Same (In) dependence
Feeding off a source in order to grow to be free
Wanting to explore the world
Even at an age so mild.
Copping The High
By: Mahoganie
April 10, 2008
Washington, DC
Never knew what an addiction was
Until there was you
My internal tracks
Evidence of what I took in vain
My past filled with something like you
Still, it's not the same
Thought I turned the page
Wrestling, biting, scratching, fighting
Emancipating myself from the
Meaningless
Then there was you
Not fully aware of your presence
I made one move
It put me in place to be
A super hero by day
Defending her honor
Yet at night I disrobe my armor
Thoughts of you
Missing you
Excited by you
Indifferent about you
Wanting you
Needing you
Addicted to you
Cold sheets
Head bowed
Eyes closed
Still darkness
Explore
Touches like yours, but mine
Unafraid
Aware, but soon gone
My breath is yours
My voice is your whisper
Lower...
I tease, you tease
Feeling...
Stiff, rubber, veins...You're stiff and girthy
Deeper...
I go, you go
My cries are mine
Sensation surreal
Enter...stay...tease...slow...go...stop...
Stay...caress...tease...slow...go
My trip...
My hidden tracks
Filled and over flowing with my sinful lust
I hear nothing
I see nothing
Just feel
My trip
Feeling you inside of me
The power of one
Taking me higher
To a place that I cannot reach in reality
Overwhelmed
I succumb to your calling
My trip is done
My tears freely run
Never knew what an addition was
Until there was you
In not so recent days, a couple of people, actually one, has been wondering if I will ever hold a full fledge conversation with them again. I won't lie, there have been a few people I quasi-cut from my life. I don't have much (if any at all) contact with them anymore. I just choose to remain silent to each of them for different reasons. My silence has been worrisome on their part. I never really fully explained my silence just to say I was tired of explaining myself to them and/or they just never saw where I was coming from no matter how many times and how many angles I tried to get my point across. Their skull was just to thick to absorb the information.
I will admit, one person I randomly thought of so much that he contacted me out of the blue to pick up his stalkerish ways. I think I deserved that, since my mind was always wondering what happen to.....
Nevertheless he hasn't contacted me since that random day in January.
In my thinking and listening to the song "Never (Past Tense)" sung by Tina Arena, I was able to shoot some thoughts down in a matter of minutes. It's still a rough draft. I may tweak it a bit later on. However, I just felt like writing to those that I have chosen to remain silent to.
Maybe they will understand, especially one particular person.... he knows.
Silence
By Mahoganie
April 3, 2008
Washington, DC
My Silence
Itself
Is not for you to understand
Yet it is for you and I to stop
Where there is nothing left
To say
To give
To take
To love or live for
Each other
My Silence
Itself
Is not a signal of hate
It is my shield
For the rampart conceals me from
What is left of you
You still hide nearby
My Silence
Itself
Is my exhaust
For it is me working and seeking
My own existence
That was lost in you
My Silence
Itself
Is part me learning on
Loving me more
Is part you
Still haunted by what was
And What Became
My Silence
Itself
Is learning to listen
To a voice
Other than yours & my own
Living without noise
My Silence
Itself
May hurt
Yet it can never bare the many thorns
Which you secretly used against me
My scars ran deep
Causing utter blindness
My reality became a fallacy
We were a fairytale
My Silence
Is mine
Self-inflicted
So,
With no excuses
With no shame
With no blame
Silent I shall remain.
It's the Snickerdoodle's birthday weekend.
I'm completely in awe at what has transpired in a year.
I still get jitters when I look into the future and wonder what is ahead for the both of us.
She learns from me and I from her.
My guess is, we'll probably end up like the Gillmore Girls....with a twist.
Well I hope.
The weekend is pretty full , but there is no big fan fare or anything of that nature for her first birthday. I figure I have plenty of time to make this up in future birthdays.
With so much going on, especially as the contractors FINALLY begin to start construction on the renovation, there will be just a be a simple and quiet moment in between traveling to and fro.
A cake with a decorative Winnie the Pooh candle and family.
Ms. (In) Dependent
By Mahoganie
March 2008
Washington, DC
Ms. (In) Dependent
Decided to get up and this morning and walk
With her destination unknown
Off she went
Cruising a narrow corridor
Exploring
A tapestry of clothing
A mountain range of dressers
Dusty peaks of exquisite smells
I watched from afar as she grabbed a loeg of the old night stand
Balance and Confindence gained within
She looked back as if to say
"Don't fret. I got this!"
She passed a hill of old drop socks
Navigating her way through a maze of Donald Pliner, Ferragamo and Naturalizer boxes
Finally reaching a resting place
Grandma's bed
I couldn't help but to get a twinkle in my eye
My pride
For she is like me
In search of some kind of destiny
Child like Mother
Mother like child
for so long I was a melody
In search of the perfect lyric
God must have bionic hearing
Out of the ash of love confused with lust
he delivered my song
My better half
A life lyric helping to create the ultimate love song
I am her
She is me
My Aries wild child
To my calm Aquarian breeze.
Energy astound
"When you get blue, I feel it too."
Child like mother
Mother like child
Same (In) dependence
Feeding off a source in order to grow to be free
Wanting to explor the world
Even at an age so mild.
What can you say about a group of kids who are shy, yet expressive in a way that makes you smile and say "Write on!"?
What is there to say about a group of young boys on the verge of being men eager to learn and though still "tender" in the 6th grade, their responses fill you with some kind of hope and pride for the future?
As anyone can tell, I had a ball with MY group of 6th grade boys. Today was the day I was to meet with them as part of a volunteer project through an organization that my mother is a member of. The organization itself focuses on community service with emphasis in the education community. So you can gather a lot of the women involved in the organization are currently active or retired from different school systems. Each chapter is subject to a community service project, and my mother's chapter has been going to different public schools (within their chapter's jurisdiction) and doing themed presentations of etiquette with females of 6th grade classes.
This year was the first in which they included a themed presentation for 6th grade boys; the theme of creativity and using your skills through entrepreneurship. Unfortunately, a small local business owner that was suppose to give his presentation didn't make it today. So the boys just had 40 minutes of me working with their creativity.
I had a whole bunch of "goodies" planned; music of Coltrane , Miles and Dave Brubeck to write with, one of my Langston Hughes books with book marked poems to read and explore and the same with Shel Silverstein's Where the Side Walk Ends.
Instead, in the essence of time I stuck with the main crux with a quick impromptu that worked out.
When I was introduced to a colorful group of Black and Latino boys, I had no idea I would be featured as a published author. So as I told them that I am a (freelance) journalist and was published in an anthology I asked them questions about an anthology. Of course they were right on time with answers such as
"An anthology has parts of stories..."
"...it has different writings..."
This was the beginning of how the boys made a good impression with me.
I did do the Tupac question as I was curious to see where conversation could go.
"Was Tupac Shakur a rapper or a poet?"
Like sixth graders... some couldn't contain their answers. Some blurted out rapper while other blurted out poet. Then some even said both.
One little guy in particular at first told me rapper and then switched up to say both. However, he was at a lost for words as to why he felt it was both.
Another student put it very eloquently as to say (in so many words) Tupac was a poet that expressed his words in a rhyming way, as in rap and he was being real an expressing hismelf even though he cussed.
*insert chuckle*
I told the boys that they were all right. 'Pac was a poet that expressed his thoughts through the art form of hip-hop and I began to briefly explain how poetry is delivered in various forms; be it rap, spoekn word, haiku, prose or just a free for all.
I read a poem from Tupac's poetry book, entitled When Ure Hero Falls.
When Ure Hero Falls
Written by Tupac Shakur (1971-1996)
when your hero falls from grace
all fairy tales r uncovered
myths exposed and pain magnified
the greatest pain discovered
u taught me 2 be strong
but im confused 2 c u so weak
u said never 2 give up
and it hurts 2 c u welcome defeat
when ure hero falls so do the stars
and so does the perception of tomorrow
without my hero there is only
me alone 2 deal with my sorrow
your heart ceases 2 work
and your soul is not happy at all
what r u expected 2 do
when ure only hero falls
There was brief discussion about the meaning behind the poem and I had them express aloud their feelings about their heros. Of coruse some were shy and some were eager to express their thoughts. My impromptu came in when I asked them to sum up their hero in two lines and if they made it rhyme it was even better.
Sure enough my impromptu worked as I called on another student and he read me his lines that rhymed. Immediately when I mentioned how the lines were a couplet the kids smiled and even the teacher. Later on I would learn that the kids had not long ago had a lesson in couplets and the teacher was pleased that they were able to excercise an example of that today.
What really took up the bulk of the time is when I had the guys write a bio poem. This is where their minds really began to work and I was further impressed.
So this is what I had the boys do with their Bio-Poem.
BIOPOEM
Directions: Create a bio poem about yourself
Line 1: First Name (write first name of nickname)
Line 2: Four traits (characteristics) that describe the person
Line 3: Relative ("Brother", "sister"," husband", "wife", "daughter", etc. ) of __________
Line 4: Lover of __________ ( list three things or people your love)
Line 5: Who feels __________ (list three items)
Line 6: Who needs __________ (list three items )
Line 7: Who fears __________ (list three items
Line 8: Who gives __________ (one item fully explained )
Line 9: Who would like to see __________ ( list one item)
Line 10: Resident of __________ (list city, state or country)
Line 11: Last Name
I went line by line with the boys in helping them create their poem. By the end of the assignment they were all eager to share their poem. Starting with the most shy boy in the class, I made them stand up in front of their classmates tall and project their voice. The teacher was pretty impressed with some of their answers, especially with one student who is obviously the "class clown," and even a couple of boys who listed their fears with one being monkeys.
*insert chuckle*
I had a ball with my group and I hope to return sometime in April for part two of the project with them. The project leader and I discussed that their poems could be compiled into a booklet to publish. Of course the boys were excited to hear that. If Im able to return for part two of the project I want to touch on some of the things I cut out today. Hopefully the business guy that was no show today won't be that way in April. After having a meeting with the principal today, it's quite clear that she is concerned about her 6th grade boys lacking positive male mentors. Yet, in part of today's meeting with her a solution was discussed as to how to invite other male reinforcements into the project just as observers and supporters for the boys.
Nevertheless my time with the boys was wonderful and I really did enjoy this tasks. The Snickerdoodle WAS with me the whole time and was such a little lady during the whole presentation. Well..... she did get a little fussy towards the end and then she was rushed down the hall to my mother where she was working with the females until I finished up.
I'm tired.. but I'm in the feel good tired stage.
The sun was out
I smelled hints of spring in the air today
My brain is a little overworked doing and thinking too much.. but that's ok
Today was truly a good day.
T-Mobile has been calling and texting me. I'm overdue and about to be cut off.
Yet, I'm too preoccupied to even worry about this matter.
I'm even a bit too much in my own world to entertain other text messages; from Papi, a friend that I refer to as "El Cheapo, " and my usual good morning, how are you greetings from another male friend, AJ.
I'm beginning preparations for the creative and etiquette workshop session with the sixth grade boys that my mother asked me to be a part of. I've been searching, skimming poetry book after book, for the right poems to present. There are a lot I see that have personally become my favorites, but I feel they maybe too advanced for their sixth grade minds. I've even been digging through my own poetry for the different forms, but I can't find any "rule book" type forms I've written outside of the usual prose, free for all flow, couplets, haiku and tanka.
The book(s) I have on Langston do offer a variety of poetry, so I'm bound to find one that is suitable or easy for them to understand. Though I want to bring in Langston, I don't want to bring in the usual that they (may) hear in school, such as Dream Deferred.
I also have (an autograph copy of) Nikki Giovanni's "Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day." I haven't flipped through this one yet.
Honestly, I'm tempted to head to the library and check out Shel Silverstein's "Where the Sidewalk Ends." I thought he was a brillant writer. He was introduced to me around the fifth or sixth grade. His poems, though elementary are pretty light and easy for children to understand. I'm sure I'm safe with him.
Whatif
By Shel Silverstein
(of course his work is copywritten)
Last night, while I lay thinking here.
Some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
And pranced and partied all night long
And sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poision in my cup?...
I still wanted to bring Tupac Shakur's poetry and Alicia Keys into it as well. We'll see.
In the midst of all of this there is some glee.
A caller, about a job, contacted me.
I don't wanna say. I don't wanna make a fuss
Cause usually when I do, it turns out a bust
I'll just say that it's a postion that I want
They have even asked me if their budget for the job should be what it ought.
I agreed and a time to meet has been set
Now I'm giddy as hell, trying to keep myself in check.
Next week is the big day and I want to look good.
So now I'm gonna keep my mouth shut so I won't knock on wood.
My portfolio is straight, my hair is always great
I just need to have clear directions so I won't be late.
Oh yes, the job is in Bethesda, but that I can do
I'm a super mom, I can do anything for my little Schmoootsy Poo.
- Mahoganie, untitled, Feb 28, 2008
Wow! Would you believe I just came up with that?!?!?!
Yeah, Erin was right! I am "hopped up" right now.
She always sat by the windows during class.
Some days she was outspoken and other times she sat quietly and observed.
She wasn't from DC.
So we could never bond over Chuck Brown, super jumbo wings from the carry out or even call people "bamas" and say they were "lunchin."
Chicago, the south side was where she claimed to be.
From what I remember, her poetry wasn't always on the profound concious level tip.
Her poetry wasn't flat neither.
They were words.. her words.
I once thought they were real.
Deep down to the bone true.
Until I began to get a feeling.
She was hiding.
Finally what she had buried long ago was starting to show.
Medina asked us to write a poem based on death or loss of a loved one...
Or was the topic simply on cancer?
Either way she refused to write.
She blurted out
"I lost my mother at a young age. I can't write about that."
However old she was, I sensed the death was still fresh... still too new.
Medina urge her write, but she simply refused.
Eventually she vented on paper.
I don't even remember if she shared with the class.
Medina made us do that from time to time.
Still, I was too wrapped up in my own misery to stick around to see what became of her.
I just remember my poem on "cancer".....
It was something like this...
A piercing pain stabs my womb
Induced labor, I'm forced to deliver love
Stillborn
For love was conceived under false pretenses
Self indulged
All in the name of fun
I was told to cleanse myself of such
Nuisance
Yet, I was seasoned to his thinking
He sucked me dry, robbing me of my vitality
The Cancer
Born under the fourth sign, but he left under the ninth
Life
I was left barren
- Tiffany Browne (Mahoganie), Robbed Life, written October 21, 2003.
I wonder what became of her.
I wonder if she ever made peace with her mind.
Will she ever feel comfortable with her loss?
She came to mind today.
Not sure why.
Clear as day she was sitting in her same spot in the classroom
By the window.
Yellow bookbag with Howard Dean for President stickers plastered to it.
She was Dean's cheerleader.
I wonder what became of her.
This poem was posted in one of my writing groups today. I believe it is taken from Jill Scott's book of poetry. This is soooo on point for me at the moment.
Caution
By Jill Scott
It’s been nice
Yes
Laughing times
Early morning love
Walks
Meaningful kissing
But I’ve been hurt before
The kind that can change a life
The kind that makes a body wary
And I must say that I am taking special care
Not to care so hard
While I’m mostly open to love you
I prepare to let you go
So I will ask upfront
Before my stomach is knotted
Can I take my shoes off now?
Can I put them next to yours in the upstairs closet?
Can I relax my soles?
Hang up my winter coat?
Unpack my bag for more than the night?
Because
I like you
I really like you
Okay.. so here is the deal... I'm tired.. so i'll just cut and paste from the email I sent out to my fam and friends about the news! Rock on!
Please purchase and tell your friend that will tell another friend and so on. 
