Friday, February 27, 2015

Oh! Oh! I Forgot to Tell You. I Have Been Published Again.


I had a new poem entitled "Depression" published in the Winter 2014 (39.2) edition of the Spoon River Poetry Review - page 67.

If you would like to subscribe or buy a particular issue the website can be found {here}.

As of the date of this post the current issue, including my poem, can be found {here}. It will move to the {archive} when a new issue is published.

You can also find SRPR on {Facebook}


We've Taken a Look at Our Habits Over the Past Few Years, and Identified Room for Change.



Thursday, February 26, 2015

The Laws of Motion

- Nikki Giovanni

          (for Harlem Magic)
The laws of science teach us a pound of gold weighs as   
much as a pound of flour though if dropped from any   
undetermined height in their natural state one would
reach bottom and one would fly away

Laws of motion tell us an inert object is more difficult to   
propel than an object heading in the wrong direction is to   
turn around. Motion being energy—inertia—apathy.   
Apathy equals hostility. Hostility—violence. Violence   
being energy is its own virtue. Laws of motion teach us

Black people are no less confused because of our   
Blackness than we are diffused because of our
powerlessness. Man we are told is the only animal who   
smiles with his lips. The eyes however are the mirror of
the soul

The problem with love is not what we feel but what we   
wish we felt when we began to feel we should feel
something. Just as publicity is not production: seduction
is not seductive

If I could make a wish I’d wish for all the knowledge of all   
the world. Black may be beautiful Professor Micheau
says but knowledge is power. Any desirable object is
bought and sold—any neglected object declines in value.   
It is against man’s nature to be in either category

If white defines Black and good defines evil then men
define women or women scientifically speaking describe
men. If sweet is the opposite of sour and heat the
absence of cold then love is the contradiction of pain and
beauty is in the eye of the beheld

Sometimes I want to touch you and be touched in   
return. But you think I’m grabbing and I think you’re   
shirking and Mama always said to look out for men like   
you

So I go to the streets with my lips painted red and my   
eyes carefully shielded to seduce the world my reluctant   
lover

And you go to your men slapping fives feeling good   
posing as a man because you know as long as you sit   
very very still the laws of motion will be in effect


from: The Women and the Men. Copyright 1970.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

About God & Things

- Wanda Coleman
 
              1
i want to have your child
cuz upon losing you
i’ll have more than memory
            more than ache
            more than greatness
i’ll have laughter

i do not mean to be fatalistic
know the limits put on you black man
me, black woman

when you are killed or imprisoned
desert or separate from me
i’ll continue
fill the void of your absence with
love between me and ours

gods

              2
you love me
in your eyes. don’t say it loud
pain
america will never let you

              3
you’re home. it’s a surprise
you’ve made it thru another day
one more night in your arms
to fuck

merge our bodies merge
give
wealth/freedom
congress cannot legislate away

              4
eyes wide as suns inquire
where’s daddy?

he’s gone away

i love my daddy

i smile
he’s a good man

eyes wide as suns
burn my hand with a kiss
go outside to play in the streets

god
what god is about


from: Imagoes. Copyright 1983.

Monday, February 23, 2015

Kilt Monday!

'Cause let's face it,
Mondays can be so rough, hard, difficult.


Sunday, February 22, 2015

Oh Freedom!




Lyrics:

Oh, freedom, Oh, freedom,
Oh freedom over me.
And before I'd be a slave
I'd be buried in my grave
And go home to my Lord and be free.

No more weepin,(don't you know), no more weepin,
no more weepin over me.
And before I'd be a slave
I'd be buried in my grave
And go home to my Lord and be free.

Oh freedom,
Oh, freedom, Oh, freedom,
Oh freedom over me.
And before I'd be a slave
I'd be buried in my grave
And go home to my Lord and be free.

And before I'd be a slave
I'd be buried in my grave
And go home to my Lord and be free.
First recorded as Sweet Freedom in 1931, by the E. R. Nance Family with Clarence Dooley.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Saturday Farmer's Market - Fragile Spring



Created by Heather at Capricious Reader, and now hosted by Chris at Stuff as Dreams are Made on.

Just to give this post a bit of context, the green mess you are looking at here is tiny Daffodils (about 4 inches when blooming), and usually the first thing in my garden to bloom.
It is way behind this year, as I've had blooming plants for weeks now.


It is still early and we could still get more frosty nights, so the stakes are high right now.
The next picture is of a Pluot Tree, taken through the kitchen window.


And this picture is the larger of the two Plum Trees.
An untimely frost could cost us some or all of our eagerly awaited fruit harvest.



 






This is the Pomegranate, happy as always.









 Of course these are all still blooming:







 Oriental Poppies
















 Sedum













 &
Violets









My experiment from last year is Bananas
Since they are tropical, they didn't enjoy the Winter. But since we are in a fairly moderate area, they have a chance.







This is what they looked like before I pruned for spring - 













- and this is what they looked like after a hair cut and retrenching. (they need to be flooded when I water)

If you look closely, the one on the right has a small green shoot - new growth!






 More 
Daffodils!


 And now for some sadness.

This Orange Tree, in the yard across the street from us, has been, without a doubt, the best Orange Tree ever. Any one who has ever tried the fruit agrees, and experts have even taken samples and conducted research with the aim of making all Orange Trees better. 


Well the house changed hands last year and our new neighbors have been having septic problems. 
Guess where the septic system runs. 
Yep, right down between the two houses, under the tree. 

At this point they have pruned it back hard hoping to minimize the shock when they mangle half the root system. It may or may not survive. Please keep it in your thoughts.

On the bright side, we are all pretty sure we know why the tree has been so great - unlimited fertilizer!

(If it survives, it may never be the same when the septic system is fixed.)

A Nest Full of Stars
- James Berry

Only chance made me come and find
my hen, stepping from her hidden
nest, in our kitchen garden.

In her clever secret place, her tenth
egg, still warm, had just been dropped.

Not sure of what to do, I picked up
every egg, counting them, then put them
down again. All were mine.

All swept me away and back.
I blinked, I saw: a whole hand
of ripe bananas, nesting.

I blinked, I saw: a basketful
of ripe oranges, nesting.

I blinked, I saw: a trayful
of ripe naseberries, nesting.

I blinked, I saw: an open bagful
of ripe mangoes, nesting.

I blinked, I saw:
a mighty nest full of stars.

naseberry: sapodilla plum with sweet brown flesh


from: The Nest Full of Stars. Copyright 2004.