God, the "Great Iconoclast."
  • Alma Turner
    • Alma Turner
    • Site Overview
    • Alma's Blessings
  • 12 Steps
    • Step 1: Humility >
      • Step One Questions
    • Step 2: Hope
    • Step 3: Faith
    • Step 4: Honesty
    • Step 5: Trust
    • Step 6: Willingness
    • Step 7: Surrender
    • Step 8: Forgiveness
    • Step 9: Justice >
      • Amend White to Black
    • Step 10: Perseverance >
      • Fear Watch
    • Step 11: Contact
    • Step 12: Service
  • Poems, Prayers, Music
    • Beloved Poems by Others >
      • I Stand at the Door by Sam Shoemaker
      • The Guest House by Rumi
      • The Invitation by Oriah
      • Invictus
      • Elohai Neshama
    • Poems by Alma >
      • Poems 2017-2020
      • Poems 2021 >
        • Prayer Poems
        • Poems Early 2021
        • Poems September 2021
        • Poems October 2021
        • Parables and Songs
        • Clay Haiku
      • Poems 2022
      • Injustice Poems
      • Poems 2023
    • Big Book Prayers
    • Music >
      • Roberta Flack
      • Marvin Gaye
  • more
    • Rowdy Beauties >
      • Rowdy Beauties Bible Study New Orleans
      • Rowdy Beauties Resouces >
        • Resources for Chapters 1-4
    • Disciplines >
      • Fasting
      • Lectio Divina and Centering Prayer
      • Reading!
      • 12 White Steps
    • The Gospel of Thomas
    • Psalms >
      • Psalms 23, 46, 91, 139
      • Psalms 121, 1, and 32
    • Bible Thoughts >
      • Genesis >
        • High Priest
        • Jacob is Israel.
      • Prophets >
        • Isaiah 30
        • Isaiah 54
        • Jeremiah 31:31-35
      • Frederick Douglas
      • Jesus >
        • Brown or Black
        • Teacher
        • Son of Man
        • Activist
        • High Priest
        • Innocent
        • Lynched
        • Alive
        • Sayings >
          • Sayings 1-3
          • Sayings 4-6
          • Sayings 7-9
          • Sayings 10-12
          • Sayings 13-15
          • Sayings 16-18
          • Sayings 19-21
          • Sayings 22-24
          • Sayings 25-27
          • Sayings 28-30
          • Sayings 31-33
          • Sayings 34-36
          • Sayings 37, 38, 39
          • Sayings 40, 41, 42
          • Sayings 43, 44, 45
          • Sayings 46, 47, 48
          • Sayings 49, 50, 51
          • Sayings 52, 53, 54
          • Sayings 55, 56, 57
          • Sayings 58, 59, 60
          • Sayings 61, 62, 63
          • Sayings 64, 65, 66
          • Sayings 73, 74, 75
          • Sayings 76, 77, 78
          • Sayings 100, 101, 102
          • Sayings 103, 104, 105
          • Sayings 106, 107, 108
          • Sayings 109, 110, 111
          • Sayings 112, 113, 114
    • The Symbol >
      • The Circle and Triangle
    • Blog
    • Preparations
    • MMS, CD, CDS
Poems by Alma Turner
After 2017-2020

​
Simple
​Clap Hands and Sing
​It Sees!
Dulcimer
Whites
Double Delta Blues

Missed Confessions


Parent's Prayer
The Place of Life
Friends' Laments
Psalm 46

Swallows
Yellow Rose

Cleared

​Beautiful Blue
​Miss Baker
Pruned
​Thank you
"A Raisin in the Sun" with Mom
Psalm 1
​Alma's All

Beyond Binds
Goodbye Raul
​​Fly! Doctor, Fly!
Priscilla
ICU Gethsemane
Leaves
Mothers' New Orleans Moment
Epiphany!

​Under the Hood
Felicia
​No Exodus
Let-her
Circle Dance
​Lullaby Prayer
​Pleas

​
Divine Signs?
At Last
Perfect Aim
Maria's Smile
​Home
Commandment One
​Amend White to Black

Kaboom!
A Maze from Above
​Labor Pain
The Whisper

Lady Justice​
Fig Leaves

Mayan Recovery
​

The Leader of the Pack
At Stake
Sunday
My He
Choir!
Congo Square
The Enormity of Iniquity

True Love
As She Goes
​Beloved Uncle
Parade
Contemplation
​Totalled
Lazari Tocayo

Serenity Prayer Alternative
Lungs
Two Garden Reflections
Above it All
Father's Sun
Pandemic at Passover
Luna

Family Unity
Silences
​

Heed
Verdict

Apocalypto
Under Chiffon: In Loving Memory

Rowdy Beauties


Shorefishing
​Return
​Burned
Presence

Husband
Masks
Come to Us

Bondage of Self
Am I the Only One Who Knows How to Fly?

Sons of God
Calmed and Quieted
The Least of These
Sowing Space
Sofa Moment


Songbird
​
St. Francis
Commandment Three
For Late Night Bingers
​And the Church Said
Fill Up at Valero

Saturday Afternoon

Election Day Haiku

Ronald
Lessons from a Crutch
​Coffee Addict
Unkind Inventories
​Upon Awakening and When We Retire at Night
Treasure





​Simple
​
I'm going to church
It has no steeple
going to church
with my people
going to church
it's where we meet
going to church
beneath my feet;

I'm going to pray
without an altar
going to pray
(sometimes falter)
going to pray
right where I am
going to pray
like Abraham;

I'll know God's will
without a preacher
know God's will
cuz y'all my teachers
know God's will
one day at a time
know God's will
and walk that line;

I'll let it be

with no wagged finger
let it be
with no cocked trigger
let it be
without a cherry
let it be
like Mother Mary;

I'll have faith

through thick and thin
have faith,
a diamond;
have faith
though all's too gritty
have faith
when nothing's pretty;

I sense the Kingdom
deep within
believe the Kingdom’s
always been
awed by the Kingdom
overhead
in the Kingdom
as I’m led.

I'll love my sisters
though they shun
love my brothers
though they run
love my peeps
though they cut
love my peeps
though they strut;

I'm going to church
It has no steeple
going to church
with my people
going to church
it's where we meet
going to church
beneath my feet.​



***


​

Picture
;
"An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress..."

- William Butler Yeats from
Sailing to Byzantium

​Clap Hands and Sing
title from "Sailing to Byzantium" by William Butler Yeats

winds blow
courageous
loved ones
to unknown
as favorite pastimes,
fall to floor,
clothes
grown tattered
(at times shattered)
worn no more;
they show us
ways home
in grace, shalom,
"I feel safe"
he said one night,
released fight;

me with age?
how will I die?
a silent glide?
in a rage,
afraid

of every rip,
wrinkle, ache?
can I dance,
sing
and louder sing
for every moth hole
in this thing
the one shed
on my death bed
when turning corner
out of view
and take my turn
watching over you,
now an angel,
unmarried,
free,
able to witness
your struggle
to be

human utterly?

Yes!
I'll watch, love,
your ins, outs
ups, downs
see you
writhe, criticize,
awaken
to perceive
booby traps
of pride,

get right sized,
not subsidized
by mama's fat
or papa's gold
a lover's pat
or truth
untold

but on your toes:
fast at times,
or paused
on a dime,

calm with babes
or those aged,
as dictated
​by the divine;
imbued
with Power
to choose,

watch
how God moves,

grooves
shed
agitation,
​watch for confirmation,
strive
to align;

particles all
quanta with
irreconcilable sides:
positioned ​in space
​yet on a ride;

sing! let's all sing!
let it ring
soul bells
tied to our toes
lose the shell
that housed us well
shift
to that huge dance hall
where jig-hip-hop
jazz-tap
waltz-fox trot all
spin with laughter
babbling brooking
somehow cooking
let loose
​those fears

love one another
try not to smother
the clapping hands
each soul sings
as dresses fall
from life's wearing




***


​

Picture


​It Sees!

why stay
in "the rooms"
another day?

a sea of supremacy
masked as spirituality
sedated
​with prayer

"just calm down"
advisory
mistaken as "sanity"

negates messy way
we heal
in reality.

guru
hides his hand
behind
a book;

says, "I show two fingers.
no, can't look..."

​Says she,
"might be three."
unveils two,
states quietly,

"you need to believe!"
Seriously?!!
God advised me
to be
"wise as serpents,

innocent as doves"
because,
snake knows
you let go
of that old dry skin
like the sin
of trusting a man
rather than going within;

to believe you,
my brother,

would simply prove
I'm that sleepy lover
after years of
good God

trying to extricate my head
from my ass and yours;
found freedom,
integrity
when grounded identity
in the Maker,
Creator,

One who sees, knows
you, me
from head to toes.


I'm a work in progress
have kicked
and screamed;

the steps are no easy ride
(unless you decide
to keep HP outside)
​
12 steps
take me to a place
to love you

as you are
so pedestals
no pede-stars
nope!
but it's dope energy
that lights a fire
I can feel;
and I don't give a shit
how many years of sobriety

If it walks like a duck,
​quacks like a duck,
if energy is stuck,
it's stuck.


I've learned
faith is not blind;

when I look to heaven,
in and outside,

God I find:
cosmic order,
honesty,
geometry,

water cycle,
gravity,
​humility,
theory of relativity,

logic, beauty,
quantum physics,
numerology,
twelve steps,
generosity;

I find peace down deep,
and on the street,

dance, suffer,
​
sing, grieve,
wrestle, surrender,
extricate
right from wrong,
love from hate,

see blue,
​different hues,
connect, in pain,
​calm,
joy,
with truth
there,
here,
with or without fear;

it's for us always,
for free;

yes, I have faith but
​ it is NOT blind.

It SEES!


***



Picture
Dulcimer

notes plucked
from curvaceous body
lit eye 
vibration sigh
​sweet companion
un-amplified
​cuddle in time,
​of new beginning.


​
***

Picture

Whites at the Opening: Part 1

whites who won't talk to whites
whites who talk to whites when blacks are present
whites with wine who talk to whites with wine
whites who talk to themselves
whites who flirt with light-skinned blacks
​whites who make sure to say hello to everyone 
whites who don't make eye contact with whites who say hello to everyone
whites who watch who is talking to who
whites who pale when called out 
whites who assess in silence
whites who talk to militant blacks 
whites who talk to safe blacks, like the nice young lady at the sign-in table,
​phew!
whites who talk with whites or blacks about non-profit stuff
whites who talk intelligently with the black museum director 
whites who feel out of the matrix talk to blacks who feel out of the matrix

whites who talk to blacks in suits or in pantsuits with pumps
whites who talk loudly on their cell, inviting others to the opening
whites who talk with their cell 
whites who do all or most of the above
​- (like me, minus the wine).

​Whites: Part 2

​white humans 

self-centered
maximally...
let's be 
desperately
uncomfortable
see clearly -
how destructive 
of harmony now
previously 
we be...
supremacy's
a whack-a-mole
that finds another hole...
after and in disturbance,
turbulence
of on-going honesty
(and its frequent partner, misery)

stay real with me
God loves us all 

ferociously
on this journey...
and provides IF
we live and seek
(yes, imperfectly)
the Will of HP

"Jesus said: The seeker should not stop until he finds. When he does find, he will be disturbed. After having been disturbed, he will be astonished. Then he will reign over everything." - the Gospel of Thomas, saying 2

***


Picture
Double Delta Blues

1963
my hard-working dad
paid good money
for white-washed Egyptians
in World Book
lie-bury;
50 years passed
before I saw the crime
the false paradigm
began way back in time
at Nile delta
metropolis,
Alexandria;
Greeks stole credit
for what Africans merit.
Nile
flows north

to sea
where sweet
and salt meet
still waters
run deep
at water's turn
rip tide churns;
yearn
for restoration
as Greek
grandiosity
flooded over
black footprint;
steps hidden under
the Mediterranean wave
by depraved
who claimed
African wisdom,
science,
Spirit,
mathematics
without shame;
source untold
bankrolled
the new estate's
stronghold;
​

river tell your tale
sing the delta blues
let the guitar wail
of a people misused
truth abused
1963
Birmingham's
​Chief Conner

permitted
no mention
on page one
of children of the sun
who heard King's call
to march
Africa born
within each one​;
meanwhile
the Delta grieved
Chief Kennedy
who dared
and cared,
​strove to set free,
give liberty:
Mississippi
flows south
to sea
where sweet
and salt meet
still waters
run deep
at tidal turn
rip churns
blacks yearn
for reparations
for injustice ​sanctioned
under a steeple
​stolen people
rendered
subhuman "slaves"
chosen by color
by crooks
who mistook
sophistication
alignment with spiritual law
for "primitive"
mislabeled
harmony
as "simplistic"
conceptualized
God's chosen children
as two thirds human
only to assure
laws work
in favor
of their flavor
melanated hands
slated
the means
to an end -
commodities
to send

river tell your tale
sing the delta blues
let the guitar wail
of a people misused
truth abused

deltas:
wet for penetration

invite entry
promise of elation,
bliss
needed fix
for one eyed men
addicted to power,
erections, towers
to come
better, harder
"all over the land"
grabbing credit
for ideas
for bank notes
capital seed
semening
beliefs
into genetic pool
green eyed blacks
bear witness to
the rape;
green backs
testify of
financial landscape;
the rich's rampant
green envy
bears witness
to truth
disfigured shape
of any golden nest
financed
​by a foot on the neck
​of the oppressed.

river tell your tale
let the guitar wail

belt out those delta blues
born from the blacks
cuz we whites rarely choose

a guitar and song to sooth.

Picture
Picture
Picture

Confessions

Prosecutor
Fair-stein whipped
cops in petri dish
where viral

"justice for the jogger!"
bacteria brewed;
looked to the necks
of children of the sun
nothing new;
the One's son,
was lynched, too;

authorities
skewed the truth
in his case, too;

"Fair" one's noose
gave go-ahead whistle
to interrogators
to chisel
self-incriminators
out of 5 boys
lives destroy
to get what detectives,
spitting invectives,
need, 
confessions
to negate jury's
questions,
blind eyes 
as prosecution
unwinds
a story concocted
which made sense
if accepted
that a man is guilty
without evidence
just coincidence,
and level of melanin
God's got him in;
to further clinch
get the badly bruised victim
to appear,
instill fear,
distract from fact.
 extract the cry
​"crucify!"


dig further back
in history

Sir Francis Drake,
stole, seized
people to reap

the "New World's" bling
for 
plantation kings,
but this reaping machine
bleeds, loves,
has family, 
​has dreams;

what's the consequence?
England's recompense?
has Drake
stood tried
​before peers
or been allowed to hide,
the means justified?
no,
never vilified,
but glorified,
made knight
by 
Elizabeth, the Queen,
can we call this obscene?


and me?
but for God's Grace
I'm just like Drake,
a people-thief
leaving no trace
but God's angels in grief;
or Fairstein's detective
unable
to be objective;
my arrogant head
claimed "not racist" instead;
this denied condition
caused a covert
but very real false accusation;
brought face to face
with truth

smell my gross 
interior stew;
what does it take
to see
injustice's tree
when its current root
is deep inside me?


Confessions:
the Five's coerced,
Fairstein's, Drake's, England's,
never heard;
my own, given words;

not easy to face
​the reality
that craved confessions -
amends, reparations, 
may never be…
​
but don't envy those
who never confess,
never speak
or seek to make right
mistakes in their history;
their soul, mind, heart 
are not free
but trapped, encaged,
incarcerated
in a prison
they can not perceive. 
I pity them... Truly!
as cried the Jew, 
"Father, forgive them
for they know not what they do!"


Psalm 32
Verses 1-7
Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered.
Blessed is the man against who the LORD counts no iniquity,
and in whose spirit there is no deceit.

For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away
through my groaning all day long.
For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
my strength was dried up as by the heat of the summer.

​I acknowledged my sin to you,
and I did not cover my iniquity;
I said, "I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,"
and you forgave the iniquity of my sin.

Therefore let everyone who is godly
offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found;
surely in the rush of great waters,
they shall not reach him.
You are a hiding place for me;
you preserve me from trouble;
you surround me with shouts of deliverance."





***

Picture
A Parent's Prayer

Play for them, David,
arouse their passion
ignite dance,
that annoys with its joy
exuberance;
share the music of the stars,
shepherds,
kingdoms,

of friendships, failings,
betrayals,

steadfast love,
victory over Goliaths;
we remember
your tears
for your son,
caught by his beautiful hair
vain, tragic,
Absalom.


Strategize with them, Ester,
to find their own inner light
en-courage
bravery,
peaceful fight
to save themselves
and others
with their true identity,
illumination of Wisdom,
your system
boomeranged evil on Hamon
who hung in the same gallows
he erected
for Mordechai;
we remember
your love
for your people,
the Jews.

Weep with them, Hagar,
in their tears,
as they cry out
in the truth of their desert
loneliness
where you see them
as no one can;
do not shield them
from the circumstance
of their life
intended to hone,
reveal to the heart
"it is written;"
you rose
not abandoned,

in spite of all appearances,
by "the God who saw you"
we remember
your son,
the father of a nation,
Ishmael.

Liberate them, Moses,
to their own sense of justice
unleash
empower
their Source as "I am"
draw close
as they approach
the One,
outrage them at the golden calf
the mighty distractions,
where they
choose
 shine light on truth
guide them with fire by night
cloud by day
lest they peek too far ahead
and thwart God's way;
we remember
your son,
an invisible man,
Eliezar.

Surrender them, Mary,
to their own role
let them trust,
let it be,
not deafen or silence
edit or amend
their connection,
their humility,
their portal to God's path
as you delivered
a love child
​different from the rest
never second best,

scorned by society,
meant to be
​hope
for eternity;
we remember your son,
who had the humility
to follow his elder
blood and spiritual brother,
James;

Show them, Jesus,
to be in their own soul
let them walk on water
nurture
watch,
pay attention,
heal the sick
give sight to the blind,
love and be loved,
endure,

bear witness,
understand themselves,
worship in spirit and in truth,
be reborn 
into the kingdom
into consciousness of your presence
in their own way,
we remember
your friends,
our children.


The king (David) covered his face, and the king cried with a loud voice, “O my son Absalom, O Absalom, my son, my son!”
2 Samuel 19:4


And she (Esther) said, “If it please the king, and if I have found favor in his sight, and if the thing seems right before the king, and I am pleasing in his eyes, let an order be written to revoke the letters devised by Haman the Agagite, the son of Hammedatha, which he wrote to destroy the Jews who are in all the provinces of the king. For how can I bear to see the calamity that is coming to my people? Or how can I bear to see the destruction of my kindred?”
Ester 8:5-6


Abram was eighty-six years old when Hagar bore Ishmael to Abram.
Genesis 16:16


and the name of Moses' other, Eliezer (for he said, “The God of my father was my help, and delivered me from the sword of Pharaoh”).
Exodus 18:4


And Mary said, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”
Luke 1:38


Isn’t this the carpenter, the son of Mary and the brother of James, Joses, Judas, and Simon? Aren’t His sisters here with us as well?” And they took offense at Him.
Mark 6:3


No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends,
for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.
John 15:15


,

Picture
Getting Close

do not hesitate,
old women to:

listen

to babe's
eyes

touch
his sounds


ask
his head

enter
the spiral


dissolve
through porous

filament thin
​skin
suspended

above
sacred
infinite
inner haven

time now
to return,
​to
live.


Jesus said, "The old woman will not hesitate to ask a seven-day-old baby about the place of life, and she will live.
​Gospel of Thomas Saying 4
Saying 4

Picture
Blaze 4 by Bridget Riley
"I'm Unloving"

yes, my sister,
dear friend,
you may struggle 

to maintain
often-self-willed
emotion of 
quote unquote
love 

but your life
bears witness 

to a higher
giving receiving;

your Spirit is
a nose
pressed
against window

a nostril-fog
 watcher,

seeker 
of next steps,

steaming up glass,
turning round
​to show all who stand
in the dark
what you found;


your mind, body, spirit 
gift this planet 
not
because of
 
goopy
goodness
 
ooze 
but
because you exude

centrifugal
spiral out
vibration;

we are radical women
who pray
each day 

to listen 
just a little more;
explore what unfolds,
how God

draws out,
from souls 
shows where 
they need
courage to go
 
accompany them,
carrying the candle
because the winding way
is familiar;

remembered
from our own forays
into the unraveling;

quiet purpose
is there 

at the firing line 
where
God is 

cracking, 
breaking apart,
old ideas,
shame,
delusions,
healing
downloaded bullshit;

magic happens
so let's keep
our eye single

to drizzle
good news

into newly cleansed
nooks 

that open up;

God does that,
so easy does it,
put that cruel whip away.  


May you 
continue to be a blessing, 
continue to be; 
I thank you for listening; 
I needed to say all this
and wanted to say it
​to someone else

but the time wasn't right,
​may never be
or maybe the one reading
or listening is she?



"I'm Complaining"

Healing is about
"get it OUT."
words are NOT
a bitch session;
or
if you want to call it that
recognize
it's a SACRED 
bitch session
which the BB
calls a "discussion" 
because our beloved
fellow-drunk authors
were mostly
white men
from stuffy
"please, pass the butter" 

society;

we are
WOMEN,
give bloody
birth
and LOVE the babes
called to listen, respond
to pain,
deliver no shame,
hear without judgement,
with patience,
so get retrained
to tell;

watch what happens when we
blurt or whisper or speak;
"was blind
but
now I see"
don't have to hide

where i'm affected
my pride,

​self-esteem
(low or high)
ambition,
security;
I can pray for the convicted
or falsely accused
offender
look at my mistakes
with clarity 
because
I'm given 
airspace;
I don't have to abase 
myself or you, 
am understood,
have "aha" moments
where light 
shines 
breaks through
(laugh too!)
and probe into truth
to help me see 
how deluded I am
in the fictitious story
I must
make righteous,
see as just;
but
I can get free
no matter who or what
it or you BE!

So let it rip or blip or slip
OUT
or
die of the unspoken
eating away 
organs
​lacking permission
to tell 
or sing
the blues
not
prissy hymns 
way over my head;

Men have been sedating us
for a LONG time;
let's not do that
to each other
enslaved
to belief's
originated from a man's prick,
"​say no "ouch"?
continue to stay sick:
​
but sister, I choose to be FOR you.
That’s why they say,
“men will kiss your ass
and
women will save it!” 
it's a marriage
to a Process, 
divine Power that's never finished;
gotta love the whole mess, 
and baby, I DO;
I just LOVE you!



​

Picture
Psalm 46 in My Own Words

​God is

my safe inner outer space
internal
external
eternal
Source

therefore I will NOT FEAR
though
waters rise
cancer's in late stage


though
innocents suffer
encaged

though
dictators dance

or insanely rage


A river’s streams
make glad
God's City of Angels

​
God is in her;
she shall not be moved;

God will greet her as morning dawns;

nations rage,
kingdoms totter
God utters voice
Earth melts,


The LORD of ALL is with and in us;
The GOD of Hagar hears our children's cry.

Come, and see the works of the Most High!
the demolition with intent
to cease fighting anything, anyone
breaks the ego,
shatters the pride,
shuts down self-drive;

"Be still and know I AM.
I will be raised on Earth.
I will be revealed as ETERNAL LOVE."

The LORD of ALL is our fortress, our sky;

The GOD of Hagar hears our children's cry.


"God said to Abraham, "Be not displeased because of the boy and because of your slave woman... I will make a nation of the son of the slave woman also, because he is your offspring." So Abraham rose early in the morning and took bread and a skin of water and gave it to Hagar, putting it on her shoulder, along with the child, and sent her away. And she departed and wandered in the wilderness of Beersheba.
When the water in the skin was gone, she put the child under one of the bushes. Then she went and sat down opposite him a good way off, about the distance of a bow-shot, for she said, "Let me not look on the death of the child," And as she sat opposite him, she lifted up her voice and wept. And God heard the voice of the boy, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, "What troubles you, Hagar? Fear not, for God has heard the voice of the boy where he is. Up! Lift up your boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make him into a great nation." The God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water. And she went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink. And God was with the boy, and he grew up. He lived in the wilderness and became an expert with the bow."
(Genesis 21:14-20)


Picture
Yellow Rose

decades ago
Richard the poet
wrote
"The Yellow Rose"
wherein
we hear
his yearn
to just be,
blow
in the breeze
flow
now this way,
now that
without mental
scat
or wrestle
rampage
lit match
plus gas
blaze;

craves
blossom’s peace
with
identity
​”oh, if I could just be!”

2020
you and me

a yellow rose
outside
​my home
was tight wound
but after rain
let fall
​ petals

to sidewalk;
​
as we meander
back
to your car,
you ask,
“Do you have a poem
about getting old?”

moment
froze
cement told
​of soft on grit
time split
to tell a tale
from years ago
of one who fell
a petal
vanished
from your purse
after mother's
troubled
heart
burst
from roof...
poof,
gone from view
but here
you
remain
a deep well
of sad wild heart;

at times
a yellow rose
free
at others,
like today,
say we
“Oh! If I could just be!”

Picture


Cleared

What fear made man
so intent,
so violent

that stoning her
had God's consent?
 Says Torah law
 she must be suppressed
lest others be drawn
into similar conquest,
by the wrong man possessed.

With her death so near
how did she get cleared?
Our brother
​listened
to the Pharisee band,
let them speak,
wrote in sand
as they questioned;
in effort to negate
mandated reprimand;
he stood straight,
"Let him

who has never sinned
cast the first stone."
One by one
each dropped his rock,

went home
memory unblocked
a shame, a splot
I wonder what
past acts came up?
bubbled to the top?

Was her lover among
those ready to fling?
Was he first
to go skulking?

Maybe a man
with only daughters

envied neighbor's wife
who brought sons to life?
Had some killed
during a fight?
planned a murder?
connived to hurt her?
Did others lie?
Fail to buy?
steal honey? hoard money?

carry idols in thier purse?
say God's name as a curse?

Those blood-lusty agents
of Torah law
deserted the pageant
their own fault saw
enough to thaw
a deep conviction
a miracle of self reflection
sufficient to release
extend a new lease;

adulteress new years wore
with "go, and sin no more."

Do some of us never own
our love of stones,

electric chairs,
chemical warfare,
bullet rounds,
auto weapons abound,
razors to wrists,

clenched fists,
steel cages,
garnished wages,
critical sneering,
mocking, jeering,
aimed at brothers,
sisters, or ourselves
morning, noon,
half past twelve;
falling short!!
how dare you distort!!!
as kings and queens
in mighty courts
we're ravenous,
never finished
with deep need to punish
treat others as flies:
swat, cage, or electrify?

Isn't that all the same mess
as stoning the adulteress?
Can we drop our rocks,
memory unblock
a shame, a splot
that puts our stomach in a knot
as it bubbles to the top?
Can we soulfully sing along
​find ourselves in the song

"was blind but now I see?"
or are we relentlessly holy?
What is your fear?
Do you need me to hear?
I am willing to listen,
be that loving ear
trusting it will allow
the living to be cleared.
​


The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery,
and placing her in the midst they said to him,
“Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women.
So what do you say?” 
This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him.

Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. 
And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, 
“Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” 
And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. 
But when they heard it, they went away one by one,
beginning with the older ones,

and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. 
Jesus stood up and said to her, “Woman, where are they?  Has no one condemned you?” 
She said, “No one, Lord.”
And Jesus said, 
“Neither do I condemn you;
go, and from now on sin no more.”

John 8: 3-11


​***

Picture
Beautiful Blue

Got to laugh
​or weep

who crafted 
my steady creep
towards disbelief
culminating in
psychic mud
rapidly producing
weaponry
aimed at those
judged to be
(by me)
in a competitive race

to awaken
 "heart space" 
"HELLO?!?
Anyone home?
yoga class
head-up-ass
eyes stare 
​post-savasana
glazed glare
whole damn thing
just pisses me off:
too white
too expensive, 
too pensive
HEAVY
and God forsaken,
don't you agree, HP?!
It's easy to see
why Christianity
says yoga's heretic
almost Satanic,
sinks us into self
deeper than sunken
Titanic!!"

Whoa woman!
put your gun down
look around
pause that tape
need to escape
your mean mental landscape
time for
Hagar's prayer:
"Great God 

who sees me"
forgive my defect -
brutal critique of
 yogis
sitting introspect

like Francis said, 
"who am I to judge?"
my need to be 
superior

drives me to my interior
deep down within
rocked back and forth in:
"Fill me with your love
God bless our collective core
free me of scorn
my divisive nag
cheap bitch hag
that feeds
on vivisection
denial of resurrection;
guide steadfast
out of future past
​into present
where you heal
for real!
Let me do your will!"

and from that 
ugly mental mud
funky brew,
our Great God
came through
the lotus grew
from crud
and gave to yours truly
a lovely hour
a sanctuary flowered
united in-exhale
down dog, dolphin tales
by close of class
approaching final bend
I'm at peace with those
who, at first, 
seemed condemned;


Cross-legged now
lean forward
to bow
surprised by joy
I tell the truth;

I then entered to
sky-beautiful
haze of azul
body dissolved
blue-cloud bliss
sapphire radiant
disbelief disintegrant
elated

gently elevated
to thank you,
and you,
and you,
and You!


***

​

Picture

Mrs. Baker

The bread's being sucked,
extracted from
blacks and browns
to feed jail system,
keep the crowns
on plantation heads
bail bondsmen;

prison kings see red
if men and women
under arrest
don't have to pay
to go to their nest

before trials,
that presumably attest
to innocence, guilt,
never what's best
for the other-ized,
a human being,
out-side,
marginalized;

The dough is rising
at remarkable rates
jails out-sizing
from slow trial dates

sixty five percent
of those posting bail
(those not sent

to wait in jail)
are arrested for
most severe assails
on justice's scales;


isn't it a crime
something wrong
with time

spent locked up
if problem's a dime,
no savings, no silver cup
tucked in mattress
limited funds
no stash access...


Bakery's dough,
now publicly owned,
by those 
who place out of reach
a living wage,
a way for each

to get-stay free;
"my daughter needs braces"
"i go to the races."
"Vay kay in Bermuda!"
"Organic salmon steak
has Omego-3
to keep me healthy!"
“Don’t blame me
If the business is shady,
pays its employees
nothing but a penny
for labor each day;
that's far and away;
Hey, I've got lots to say
about the state
of affairs
this Trump man's
insane so who cares?
I'm pee wee
part of the sea
of insanity
relative to
corporate crooks;
look what they took!!!"

Miss Baker says
"All nothing new"
I feel her rage,
which grew
when white flour
moderator
in do-good tower
spoke to her input
"not to diminish in the least
what you are saying.,."
liberal white deafness
has all the answers
can't hear her voice,
experience ancestors,
her-story

baring truth of what she,
her people have seen
countless times before
walk through doors -
each time black men
flourish,
​ the devil gores:
bomb Black Wall Street

10 years Vietnam
white powder in cities
incarceration sham
it keeps morphing
a virus deadly
hearty yeast
raises gluttonous beast;
white bread's
​the rage;

Miss Baker exclaims,
"Can't keep it caged!"



***


​

Picture
"every branch that does bear fruit, he prunes,
that it may bear more fruit."

John 15:2


Pruned

the One is a gardener
pruning each day,
with care clipping off
to shape,
or keep at bay

what is not
for those I love
or me...

I don't always agree…

city men cut
branches that threaten
roots that jut
where folks step in,
out, strut
down sidewalks
up driveways
in sunshine, rain
bucket goes up
buzz that chain
opens the route
for wires, poles
keeps roofs
from getting holes;

trees won't conform
especially in storms,

to A.T. and T.,
​Verizon, DWP
any more than me
at times
won't bend

at all
like Jonah
won't send
myself where
i'm called
so pruned I get
often soaking wet
from the sweat
of resistance
jaws drop at my
persistance
"let go!"
"set it free!"
"What the fuck,
that's not meant to be!"

taking you
away,

that's real,

​just didn't get it
why loss has to be;
sound asleep
to passed-down beliefs​
which meant
we shook our heads

at inevitable deaths,
(not just those involving
​last breaths)

oblivious to
the world at large
not felt wounds
of forces in charge:
terror, extraction,
rigged addiction,
rape, abuse,
various forms of noose:

needless surgeries,
legislated cruelty,
how millions
upon millions
of vibrant branches
fell

cut down by folks
“making this earth
a place sometimes called hell.”


each cut,
has worked to
conform
my inner soul

to what 99 percent
​already know
in their bones;

it seems
​our Expert
in forestry

(Expert with a capital 'E')
prunes trees,
clears underbrush
so we might hear
the hushed

voice of the Creator,
and thereby
thrive in the world's insanity:
a wise mother

who can see her child suffer,
a want-to-be-wild widow
on the narrow,
a self-centered narcissist
​
listens
to you,

values
Belove-eds

feels the Sun, the One
Spirit, Atum
in communion;
​
the One is a gardener

pruning each day
with care clipping
to keep at bay
what is not
for those I love or me...
I still don't always agree!

"So make sure when you say you're in it but not of it
You're not helping to make this earth a place sometimes called Hell
Change your words into truths and then change that truth into love
And maybe our children's grandchildren
And their great-great grandchildren will tell
I'll be loving you..." 
(Stevie Wonder, lyrics to "As")



"My Creator, I am now willing you should have all of me,
the good to work with and the bad.
I pray that you now remove from me every single defect of character
that stands in the way of my usefulness to you and my fellows.
Grant me stength, as I go out from here, to do your bidding."

7th Step Prayer, Big Book page 76


​***




​

Picture

Thank You
​

He and I
came untied
my first love
good night
enough,
thought I,
for a lifetime;

Children left -
me, 
immersed in work
wept
fireside
late nights
there I slept
two years
more or less;
traveled far
to seek
went within
to pray
meditate
led
to Isaiah, Psalms,
Jerusalem,
Matthew, John;

enter HE
who said
​by way
of his BE-ing
"WAKE!
sleep walker
to the truth
of Ferguson,
Brown,
Levitical priesthood
that grabbed
your pussy
tied it up
spun you three times
round
asked that you strut
and pin the tail
on Balaam's donkey
blind
to the angel
waving a flag
of energy,
music,
love, food,
news
of injustice,
unknown views;

wake up
sleepy head
God's not done
with you yet!"

enter Ray,
who shone,
"Alchemist's Tale"
challenged
the frail
wail
of bishops' Nicene
creed, 
in 325
where to decide
for Christ's divinity
barely got by
no matter!
thank God
for clarity
now we can cry
Heresy!! Heresy!"

Enter Ray
who stood
on Melchizedek's
truth
"new law,
new High Priest,
of good,
new hood;
goodbye Levites
with your rules
your not cool,
what's right
uptight
constrictions
suffocations,
boa-tight

regulations;

Abram's tithe
bears witness
to moves
'tween there and here
beyond the veil
is near
some cross over
to and fro
leave faces
to glow
with recognition
of truth
of transmutation
twixt our roots
in heaven
and earth
​hummus human
dance, sing,
give birth
love your lovers
kiss your babes
share your assets
none enslaved
by minds'
impositions
legitimized
scriptural
interpretations
solidified
to rock
eroding
as we talk
keep it real
the best rock's
unseen
a process
of keeping clean
with principles
to guide
together
you and I
where  assigned;

widow me
that's true
but one that's free
to choose
to be alive
remaining days
til crossed over
through the Way.
​


Post Script

​thank you Ray
Standall
never ever bail
on your holy grail.
I will always love you.

***

​

Picture

"A Raisin in the Sun" with Mom

How does it feel
to write a play
so chock full of truth
have mom walk away
and say
in the lob-bay

"how enjoyable"
"well acted," "well staged"
(cell-mates talking
right after the play).

A raisin by Lorraine
dried up without sun,
deep message unheard
turned to mush
hum drum
dream deferred
punched to hush

like Muffet's curds
my pride hurts
off its chain

ego blurts
- I'm not her
she's not me!
don't judge harshly
​all you in dashiki's
I've broken free
peeled white frailty
scab by scab
to some degree
melanated my heart
graduated white society
to join humanity

Now in the lobby
I am the spider
along beside her
abandoned my mother
for approval of other?
she bred-raised me
fed-clothed-bathed me
sang songs in the car
scraped off beach tar
true she throws stones
from her glass home
blind
to the plight of mankind
expert at
excessive moderation
lacks compassion
for every addiction
but can't see her own
to judgement,
manipulation
and parades of distractions.


yet she too
was in womb
innocent mind
born with a chord
to infinite, sublime
birthed, emerged
in haughty mess
upper east side
N.Y.C. nest

to a Zha Zha princess
"Goodness!
Do the right thing;
Cross your legs!
Learn piano, sing!"
Encyclopedic
rules and regulations
require master execution
no defection
e.g.
no black society
he taller than she,

with ivy-league degree,
(not she! that's for he)
white tennis-dress
calm under duress
"right" address
kids' uniforms pressed
husband king
dinner waiting
good entertaining
control in maintaining
slender body
agile mind
perfect pedicure
cute behind
gardener, nanny, cook,
assure house cleaner
gets all nooks.
of silver, tables,
faucets, moldings
monitor towel foldings
such that monograms
appear center top
glam cursive drop
necessary to
cultural expectation
part of higher-order
demarcations
on golf clubs, spoons,
linens of dining rooms

my mom to her credit
started to shed
rigor of those trappings
chose instead
to push back
for half a century
enough to
pave the way
for me
to defy, fly
keep my head to the sky
(once reborn from the
dizzying descent
I underwent
without a clue
of how to be unglued
from earthly stew
of rules
​into heaven's truths).

The post-Raisin lobby
is the box,
a carton to care
for the gift of my mother
not to smother
where she's been
be not blind to sins
that she can't see
not deaf to words
that escape her reality
but loving her
just as Walter needs
the love of family
the courage to release
his blame and be
courageous
on the journey

into white community.


"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages."

Jaques, from Shakespeare's "As You Like It."

Dear God,
I pray to
LOVE
in,
through,
after
the play,
on or off the stage
and sustain
through your Grace
for each seven days,
​each act
​of seven ages.



​***

​

Picture
Psalm 1

Mysterious are your ways, oh God;
Mighty is your hand;

fear binds us to lies
but you craft our lives
to deliver truth,
to crush deception
to lighten our load
​free our souls
to acclaim 
Steadfast Love,
Your rightness in all our ways.

We worship your tender guidance,
oh God,
sense your presence;

in doubt, you give assurance, 
in trust, confirmation
you show your Wise Hand
to move us closer
throughout our days'
goings, comings,
our entrance, and our exit, 
all written with care.


Mighty is your hand;
Mysterious are your ways, oh God.

Picture

Alma's All

Alma says,
near
the end,
"Give it all
to God;”
rocks back
forth
gives birth
in spurts
to freed soul;

goodbye
bones
thank you so!

labor pain
detachment gains
chest oppressed
hard work
three weeks
push toward
release;

Give it all
great and small;
let go of him;
let go of her;
give them all
to God;

surrender cash
pennies, stash
release bonds
investment wands
give it all to God;

no time owned
all on loan:
talents, skills,
beauty, frills,
cars, homes,
super-domes;
give them all
to God.

Alma
breath-in
breath-out
spir-in
spir-out
real labor
let go
of bone
of clay home
part to whole
give way earth
rebirth
.
.
​.
​to Om.


***
​
​

Picture

Beyond Binds

Body
find Breath 
in bind
wrapped
entangled
stretch
breathe
into found
space
expand within
constraint
led past 
 limit
"roads restricted"
gate 

impassible
eagle shakes
restless
nest;
.

mind
seeks Freedom 

move
shift into 
escape
hatches
thoughts
push into
details
to find
Truth
under lies

sanctity
mobility
between 
cliches
nobility

grow still
silent
to listen for
to hear

to choose
the path out,
 whispered
​shout;


Spirit
go within
placed
positioned
confined

stretch
breathe
into found 
faith
expand
within

constraints
re-member
thrust 
into space
into trust

no matter 
grief, boredom, pain,
thoughts insane
or inane,

we wind
in the bind
the kingdom
God we find!

"I am so small,
I can barely be seen
How can such great love
be inside me?"

-Rumi


​***

​

Picture
​Goodbye Raul

Brother-in-law called
to let me know
felt it through the phone
sadness, relief
came over me
Raul, rarely seen
for many years
​to Vegas
fled
found a VA bed
four hundred pounds
of self pity
or zealous, religious
sentimentality.

For all I knew
he had moved on
decades long bygone
he punctuated
my selfish ways,
in barely remember days
as one family
in the garage he slept
brother by law
by wedding's call
but never in my head
or my heart
brown sofa bed
beer-canned dreams
vet's nightmares, screams
"he has to leave"
Freddy said.

Cut short the stay
to ask-seek-knock his way
out of tortured into free
with Jesus and wife Ruby
cut loose by his brother
long ago by his mother
just two when she passed
still diaper-clad
from thence perpetually sad
as siblings dispersed
in diaspora terse
to three uncles-aunts.

Once Freddy died
he called two times -
their voices matched!
his warm tone
on the phone

my iron grip detached
and embraced "judge-not"
"remove the log"
resonated, settled
came out of my fog

God moved past pride
to tenderness, love
never before applied

due to my thick critical hide
that just won't seek
had blindly refused
at truth to peek.

He was my brother
yes, with fault
but a man with wounds
before war poured on salt
who found You
and nauseated me
in his sentimentality
in brokenness, too
forgive me God
for my hard heart
that would not budge
as I go back to the start
​who was I to judge?!!
naked we all came
from mother's womb
"Raul, my brother,
I love you."


***


​

Picture


Fly! Doctor, Fly!

Watch 
lettered sister 
BS, (MD, PHD)
repeatedly tease 
white coat
over streeeeetch
black dress
thick mascara
plaster
caked base
soft face
bare cares
before "no go!"
words reveal
tethered soul
disowned
mental ticker tape
chains to post
taps out:
"long day"
"seen that"

"gained weight"
"supposed to rain"
"what to wear"

"he's there"
some force
she's oblivious to
is working
hard to keep
her home
bound
profound
neuro knowledge
not awakened
not led to rebirth
to the living dying
that leads to flying
above titles
letters
paychecks, defects
human frailties
pains
​and ecstasies


me, in envy
heard she was
the head,
big cheese
wanted her degrees
"but as for me,
my feet had
almost stumbled
For I was envious
of the arrogant
when I saw
the prosperity
of the wicked."
not wicked 
caught in a dance 
of rounds 
repeated offers
of unneeded
pain meds
very pills
she suggests
​side effects  
worsen the problem
we pray
our beloved
escapes
better to be sleepless
and connect
thought to word
able to ask
​for an apple
swap stories
move a hand
play;
rage surges
at her attempt
to sedate
negate
"Take them yourself,
​bitch!!"

but she is vulnerable 
and beautiful to me 
in her
loud lostness

my heart breaks 
wants to speak 
across the divide 
pecking order
puts her on top
pobrecita darling
take your child
to the parade
forget the cloak
leave the house
give your cares
to God
clear away
the wreckage
of your past 

join me 
I will be with you
till the end of the age
without your meds
with my beloved
restored, led
to rebirth
to the living dying
that leads to flying.


​***

.

​

Picture

Priscilla

1935
Priscilla cried,
"Let me out

lemme dance shout
feel heat-beat
of street
Help me Lord
get out of he!!!"

Charlie stewed,
"inappropriate!"
suffocate
that brood

wild card,
new ​wife's sister;

we, not Charlie,
​love "Prisca,"
worthy one

who leapt nest
chose restless
flight
​pushed by deeper fright
of whiskied golf-course cages
death by stages
of submission
life thirst remission
sip by sip
fatal drip
sedated inspiration
stolen

divine agitation;
​cabbie to gated
community
affirms God blesses child
 undefiled,
sings "whose own"
to drive it home;
"Run! Run!
Run baby!!"
get out of this
Gross Point drunk joint
cocktail hour
tamed mansion pain
gate restraint
injust containment
in-prison mentality
Charlie's 'you-better-like-it"
mandated sanctuary.

We love you Prisca,
 Mary-sister roadster
scarf flyer hipster
actress enchantress;

Charlie cried,
"lock her up!

catch and pass her
to my bro's, my docs!!"
creative light
drip by drip
made to slip
into family lore
not spoken before
mentioned once
quiche brunch
grandma's younger sister?
where is she?
what came of her?
who will speak
of locked up child
woman wild
never to return
Tower's daughter
freed then slaughtered
by Charlie,
bad-girl hater

rule-bound legislator
no room 
for that
joyful inner zoom
seeking life

way out of strife
out of white pride
“self-made” riches
vodka dishes

forced zombie pill
good-old-boy chill
caught, sent her
​to stay
mental home
til dying day:

cold cold so cold
morgued 'scilla
away;


1984
an open door

of "I'm gonna die
or live out my time
in this endless cycle
​of cry; 

"Please! Please! me!
Let me out
lemme dance shout
feel heat-beat
of street
Help me Lord
get out of Charlie.
Set me free."
 God answered
with sobriety,
freedom for me, 
​not Prisca;

grandma's incarcerated sista.

​
***


​

Picture

​ICU Gethsemane
​
get them out
from under,

begging you
sweating through
shirts pants
in ICU
Gethsemane;
make dendrites
flow where they're supposed
to go
make it RIGHT
righteous
whole
complete
set them free
I cry to thee!

words fail -
should be
OUT-LAWED
OUT-LAUD
gotten GONE
obliterated;
verbal police
should prohibit saying
ANY-THING
because
EVERY-THING
is wrong
misses
every word
fails

WAY OFF
the mark -
invalidation
of human heart;

art fails -
make it illegal
give it “F”
paint
plaster
clay
all LAME,
too TIGHT

except to throw
over cliffs
off sky scrapers
out helicopters
from mid-skydives
watch Mona Lisa
haystacks
pietas
SMASH
splintered trash;

I need a lover
to fuck all night
to cuddle for days
to hold me tight
i need ocean swimming
hurricane running
tabernacle burning
 heart to heart
with Job,
momma Jenn
someone not nice-bound
not confined
reduced
not unarmed
someone with a forty four
a sword
​a whipper snapper
rapper-rebel
keep the dogs out
bullshit smeller;

Talk LORD,
silent science-guy,
take this chair
explain!
you
who fathoms deep
measures breadth
sees far
created stars
molds hearts
knitted minds
creates sublime
intelligent energy
design;
what’s the reason
the rhyme
the beat
the why???

words began
it all
yet
FALL
FLAT
fail utterly
too small
to shatter ceiling
smash feeling
enraged
encaged
let us sing
let freedom
RING

thunder
ROAR!!!!!!

get them out
from under,

begging you
sweating through
shirts pants
in ICU
Gethsemane;
make dendrites
flow where they 'posed
to go
make it RIGHT
righteous
whole
complete
set her free
I cry to thee!

***


Picture
 

​Leaves

Time she leaves;
feet danced
on street
a blue sky-day
gratefully released
from hospital stage
doctor kings
medicine sings
numbers, percents
line-graphs'
truth sent

I-V bags resonant
evidence care,
humanity,
hands-on sanctity
human connection
critical for soul's 
first resurrection
before energy leaps
takes over
momentum;


Eyebrow-brush
crisp-wisp clouds
wake-me-up air
agile-crowd 
contrast where
in ICU
solitaire
four stories above

hospital cared
steeped in love
skilled hands
sweet nurse

can't reverse 
mis-fired orders 
wrong turn
​ sent commands
for limbs to stand,
mis-carry; 
that emissary 
her holy grail
left bereft
within clay pot

form lonely spots
where soul loudly talks
of useless, of despair
babe-girl
woman curled 
underneath
wintered splintered
innocent!
​ 
no-need-to-repent
as energy spent
to lift a finger
takes all in her;

Suspended!
life up-ended
time rolls 
river unfolds
"where’s home?"
Reply: "Sold"
the known
overgrown
pulled out
new cavity
no gravity
no trace
of chairs, stairs,
shower, place,
no brick, twigs, straw
childhood see-saw
​familiar fridge
keyboard ridge
routines, odors
gone in a day
sold home
none own;

With the Fall
came loved ones
heeded the call
with hearts
​open
to stay a while
and leave 
of necessity; 
you grieve
believe

​loosing
human love
 new "home" sold
wild tears shed 
at partings'
gritty-lie-truth
"You are alone" 
starkly unfolds
"No! No! No!"

Post agony:
feet do reach
speak to call,

"come, come"
prodigal son
struggling one
new home
soul heaven
dough's leaven
expands each time 
failure mines
deeper treasure
deep down 
unlocked
is the Rock
connected to the 
whole
the home
that never fails
​always holds;

soul dance
sidewalk beat

interior feet
necessary release
"Be free!"
spring-time tree
blossom energy:
time she leaves.

​
***


Picture
Mothers' New Orleans Moment

office of disability
brown-skinned

mother and daughter
quietly sat four hours
where I,
restless after one,

complained
to my daughter
about how "take-a-number"
does not go in order;

other mother
overheard,

turned,
our inner lights merged
seemed like
Mary and I
​converged;
she, resurrected
in a polyester cap
of layered black satin

folded origami
her ​framed beauty
reappeared
an hour later
at the corner
waiting for a ride,
again connected
to the part of me
that loves
to be seen

the inside
not the long legs
eyes of green
but the decent woman
that loves the God
who truly has
remade me;


her blessing fed
my soul
before we entered
ugliness of
Jim Crow,
a lunchroom
where oppression
separation
outdid greens,
red beans
crawfish etouffe
fog of hate
seemingly unseen
unsmelled;
don't ask, don't tell?

I put on a mask
of enjoying

the southern repast
(disregard
the gate-
guard
fat leg-spread
belly-bloated
white man
just inside the door
passing out menus
to us, the whores;
don't see
the invisible
cashier
who understandably
hates me;
believes the overseer
my long-legged father,
my blue-eyed brother
my subjugation co-conspirator;
while other blacks
serve

on the line,
in the kitchen;
few ever dine;)

why love
this "authentic"
unholiness?

why not flee
this
capital city of slavery?
does that sensitivity
give me immunity?

my child and I emerge,
walk arm in arm
I support her
in seizure weakness,

my reason to be.
I'll never return
to Mother's
(est. 1938),

was mercifully spared
deep hate,

obsessive self-loathing
(ancients would have
torn clothing)
to myself
recriminate
for the injustice
delivered on every plate;

spared, saved, lifted
by the
Light
converged
together
with black origami-capped
mother

impossible to negate care
soul-connection
be it while we dwell
with an infection from hell
or while we wait

at heaven's or some
supremely unholy gate.

​

Picture

​Epiphany!

Astrologers followed
a luminous star
to worship,
led from afar
with frankincense and myrrh,
tree-of-life resins
valued more than gold
for power of protection;

Magi delight
in what gave Herod fright,
a newborn child-king
of brown-skinned Mary,
a ruler and shepherd,

truth emissary;
his light wrapped
in swaddling,
and dark skin necessary
to survive desert sun,
another adversary
aside from Herod,
who wanted him dead

an angel warned Joseph
who to Egypt
 fled;
​Ramah''s babes massacred
in his stead;

could that same divine power
who sent agents of protection
leave Mary's child
without a dark complexion?

in the land of the Nile,
holy family blended in;
Egyptians, too, were black
​like Eve and Adam
since all agree
God's first utopia, 

Garden of Eden,
is in Ethiopia,
not in Sweden;


so let's worship
in spirit and truth;

Jesus was a brown or black man
just as his ancestor,
Abraham;
God chooses skin color,
our hue
for Their reasons,
​perhaps as a clue
to how deluded
we can be
asleep to truth
we don't want to see
to miss the connection
between the cross and the lynching tree
to miss the connection
​between the cross and the lynching tree.
holy brown babe's,
divinely crafted destiny;

the Magi arrived,
the new babe to see,
on a day we now call
"Epiphany"-
which also means
a moment when we see
what we could not,
​would not believe;
disclosed by angels
and a star in the sky
a Jewish child is born

without a rabbi,
in poverty
pursued all his life
says "love your enemy."


he grilled and ate fish
​after resurrection;
his rebirth confirms
this world's misconception,
lack of depth perception;
we are all made of light,
salt of the earth,
whatever class, creed, color
at our birth;
these suits we inhabit
are temporary,
left at some point
deemed necessary
as bodies turn to dust,
souls fly free;
death's cause?
the same for us all,
a miraculous birth 
and subsequent
 epiphany,




​

Picture
"Naked I came from my mother's womb,
and naked shall I return. 
The LORD gave,
and the LORD has taken away;
blessed be the name of the LORD."

Job 1: 21
​

Under the Hood 

A stubborn mother 
 let go to:

love
sent from above

receive
seed,

swell
sacred inner-room
roll-around womb,

pain
of labor, push,
freedom gain

feed
at breast

'til no need
as drinks,
solids intercede,

hold
'til legs walk
caution taught
at driveways,
crosswalks,
routes to school,
​not fooled,


listen
read
'til story 
dictionary,
Googling, ​books... 
are thirst
​are need -
they're hooked, 

encourage dreams
drive
cross, up, down town
'til wise,
 and wheel is taken,
 right sized,

pray
at meals, at trouble,
when away,
'til awake
to the need

​for their own prayers.
in the midst of
deadlines,
smirks,
first drunks,
inexpressible grief 
at dad's death,
'til bitter wrong,
cruelty of systems,
deeply flawed humanness
of saint mom,
the realities of sex,
relationships, money, jobs,
physical distress, 
the bigotry within grandma's
Candyland
racist place ;

Today's letting go,
brings memory
of other release
that last day
​to ease
when ​the white dove
an un-stubborned mother
naked returns to
love.



***


​

Picture
 
Sometimes being powerless hurts so so much.
Felicia had just donated blood, got dizzy at the rail station and fell to her death in the tracks;
she took the train because around her apartment,
​it can take 2 hours to find a parking spot.  
This death shouldn't have happened;
she was smart, funny, loving, finishing up a college degree, 
and had a good life ahead that her beautiful mom, Jennifer, had fought hard for. 
​
​
Felicia 
​

How can it be the sun up rose?
How can birds sing, the wind blow?
Please stop the world just one moment
To honor my child gone home.
No clocks ticking, no brushing teeth
No lighting smokes or morning prayers,
No finding socks, keys, no texting
No walking up and down stairs.

Stop Mother Earth from her turning
Round herself, sun, galaxy,
Pause waves, tides, moon shine, eroding,
To honor my girl gone free.

God, she lifted off from falling,
But scared between here and there
did mom, dad, grandpa, Spirits
convene in a breath their care?
and thank you for souls round us
with embraces, coffee, shares.

Her twin's lungs exhale no shout;
hold no power from lost half,
God how does she be in, get out
of pain, of numbness, a chair
take steps without legs, her sister,
take breaths not knowing.  She’s where?

God guide us through these emotions
as One in our tears and fears
in our questions, what-if’s, rages,
our blind spots where jabs appear
to undermine, whisper smart lies
of how not enough we are here.

Psalmists say He formed inward parts,
knit us right in mothers’ wombs -
keeps our go outs and hearts
from this time beyond the tomb,
commands angels to guard,
and keep us in all our ways.

So birds sing, winds blow,
clocks tick, memories echo,
Forever stop or go slow
breath deep, remember that particular gold,
of her days, her Spirit's show.
Let a new-day-morning pray
keep our hearts full of the ray
of the life of a child come home.



***

​


Picture

No Exodus


When I can't hear you,
can't see you
can't believe in you,
that's a hard heart.

oppressor queen's
multi-faceted deafness
made of untethered
unexamined
unreleased self-centered
booby traps:

self-talking chit chat
drowns you out;
"time for lunch!"
"that bill's got to be paid!"
"where are the kids?"

old ideas 
drown you out;
"white men - ugh!"
"those eyebrows... really?!"
"christian hypocrite!"
​

compare and despair
drowns you out;
"smarter, richer, hipper."
"is she better than me?"
me, me, me...


critiques 
drown you out;
"watch out!"
"you know the type!"
"what does he think of me?"
​me, me, me...

Locked in Egypt,
backed up to the Nile,
 compassionless
imprisoned by denial;
trapped ex-press -
block your Exodus
repressed tenderness
​means no reception
no antenae
for you,
your woes,
your path
what makes you laugh, 
heeds
no hail
no frogs,
no gnats,
​no locusts,
no first born death...
I am deaf, deaf, and deaf!
No Exodus!

​***


***

Picture
Let-her

Vagina wrote
early today
asked me to
stay away 
from hating her
putting her down
just cuz he's
comin' roun';

she pointed out
she's been a friend
given birth,
heaven sent
babes to earth;
without demand
without regret
received men's need
love energy
gracefully
reciprocally
generously;

so let her be!
out of poverty
of shame downloaded
long ago 
when they were 
considered foes
of man of child
society
generators of
travesties
of tragedies
fallen majesties;

quit reprimands
for who she is
for what she's like
for her biz
don't treat her like
a criminal
scorned neglected
shunned rejected
embrace her 
magic charms,
her luscious gifts
of love not harm;
let go the past
with rape, fear,
faked orgasm
hidden tears;
let her be
righteous, good,
crafted well,
a pleasure nest
that blossoms, swells
and comes,
overwhelmed
with “all is well;”
 
embrace her
real capacity
to connect us
to infinity;
men go within
and stir her soul
babes emerge
assured
God’s intent
has always been
that her presence
is not a sin 
but a gift
of order magnitude
not a rift
but perfect refuge
the place where God
passed Moses by
a place to hide
see God from behind
to peek into
the multitude
of stars and dreams
- nations ensue.




​***


​

Picture

Circle Dance - Jump In!

We danced at the wedding
Circles came and went
Jump into the middle
Get love, encouragement;

Heat up, whirl, spin
the circle dances too
Moves out, moves in
claps, laughs, "Woo hoo!"

She grabbed my arm hard
"Your turn!" She cried,
"No voyeurs, free rides here!"
"Don't push me, I'm shy!"

Here? Center stage?
I fight to break free
Caught in a cage!
of what you think of me.

So grateful to see her,
My daughter, jump in
Let go, whip her head,
shake her booty, ​do her thing!

She's freer than I am,
Not bound, not a slave
Off on her own jam
No need to behave

Thank God that our children
Go past where we end
Thank God I can see it
That's a joy you send!




***

Picture
​Pleas

God, don't make
me a liar
I told my baby
you'd heal her,
stand by her,
that we were led
step by step
protected
that she'd get through this
that all'd be righted
restored
delivered
that words would return
hands would play
feet run
lovers would come
Please God
Please GOD
I trust you
I trusted you
show us your way
show us how
to move through this
we're not asking for
perfection -
but obliteration
of so much?
come on Lord
this is fucked up
guide her out
further from the cave
give her the prayers
she needs to save
her soul her love
gifts, dreams
send your energy
into all the torn seams 
in body, mind,
Spirit
guide her LORD, 
show her what 
devotion is for
why it matters
we pray, 
obey 
we see you slay
the dragons
of despair
pride
loneliness
Prince of the Air
she's down LORD
She's sad
from loss of all
she had;
a brave girl
with big heart 
integrity
and believed in Thee
you want to drive
her away?
make her say
"There is no God
no way!
otherwise God'd be with 
me today."
Show up 
majestically
move a mountain
please
pretty PLEASE.
A plea for mercy
for healing
for relief
for joy, play, 
authentic belief.
On my knees
​with PLEAS.
Lullaby Prayer

Lord God,
let my baby sleep
let her heal
let her weep
let the tears roll
let out the soul's 
cry from her deep.

Give her a sigh
to her bones
the kind where sweet
pours over head's dome
spreads honey home
from crown to feet
cells release
give way to peace
beyond the known
where stars float
angels dwell
where heaven within
 foretells
 a true space
of "all is well"
no head hell
sweet suspension
freedom from tension

Lord God,
​ let my baby sleep
let her heal
let her weep
let the tears roll
let out the soul's 
cry from the deep
bring her sleep.



​***


Picture

Divine Signs

Am I a concept,
a mythology
of the woman
you'd like me to be
created
fabricated
in the movie of the mind
separated from me
by place, by time?

Must this woman

you've made
stay far away
lest she break
lest she charr
the golden star
of perfection,
distilled
drop by drop

without detection?

Unconditional
unconventional
does this mythology read?
a love so great
it has no need
never disappoints
never bleeds?

Pride feigns
freedom
from lonely pain;
why so stuck,
so mired herein?
what is the muck
that keeps me in?

Ah, seems I have
a mythology, too,
but one created
about the who of you...
a tale spun over time:
the touch of Divine
in names
in numbers
depends on
signs and wonders
reality-check
slumbers
distract
from hearts
miles apart
not intact
denied for pie
​in distant sky
defection from truth
to harbor a lie?

so convinced
by signs at my feet,
miracles

in concrete
unmercifully given
to desperate women
seeking clarity
rather than be
​in alignment
with New Testament?


heaven's call -
a whisper
when we pause
to hear
not from a whirl wind,
but from here,

from deep down within;

can God and we
make somethin'
distinct from our mythologies?
or is this dream,
this poem

just more insanity?


God spoke to me,
"Wait and see,
my beloveds, my sweets
surrender
and I steadfastly lead;
It's always up to you
to manifest me
so do unto others
as you would have them
do unto thee
and love me
with all your heart, soul, mind
love your neighbor as yourself
keep it simple
no more signs;

a listening heart
made of flesh

is the sign of the divine."



​***

Picture
Freddy’s Last

bedroom
let go

candled
close family
guided
by priest
prayed, whispered
"It's me, honey,
It's me dad,
It's me Tio
It's me...
"I love you"
"Please forgive me for..."
"I forgive you for..."
"Goodbye"


chapel
body's goodbye

open casket
bridge of sighs
gathered
forever friend
gave words
"that man"
a priest brought a rose
to life;
many women
held up the wife

church
released
his Spirit
flowers heralded
light
rebirth
Psalm 32
"blessed are those..."
Rosemary
told his-story
Mike funny memories
​sweet
gangsta crew
showed up
music unified
sang
full-throttle
reverberant walls
shook
received passion


graveside
return to soil
stood

hot sun
ash's wood
placed within
flower atop
buried
solemn
all dispersed
but his mentor,
girls,
watched
tractor replace
dark earth;


home
energy
family and friends
pupusas
curdito, salsa, sopa
de Eva
horchata
folding chairs,
care,
heal together
remember
recipes
love
hold one another

he
moves

watches over
steers cars
wraps his arm
gently
shows up
a fly on the wall
an unexpected call
their father
her best friend
lover
husband
how they
experienced
living in the question
​together;
always remember.


​***

Picture

​Perfect Aim

when self-drive
makes a savvy smack

stings 
bull's eye,
my reign,
on track, 
marinates in acclaim;
crowned,
no shame
paradise
not lost
ego-apparatus
above-it-all status
 a Godless frost;

self-made
​always cracks
 wiiiiiide,
as Truth strides:
I hear
you-hoo,
hear me
hear divinity
walk the Garden
stalk within
as I suffer
from petty
or
heavy
wedged
deep down
under my skin:
both
conjure cold 
of being
the One
the "I am"
​who stands 
strictly planned
chilled foreigner
ruler of the land;

perfection's call
brings on
natural-law -
it's crack and fall
re-reddens

blush
re-stores
mental hush
re-leaves 
to give oxygen
to carboned
monox-sided self-feed,
re-moves

control
to where
it's designed to be, 
free in Thee.

I pray to let go
of this starring role

when I,
misguide
​try,
to ​direct
Your show.


***

Picture

Maria's Smile

Maria taught
with strength
went to any length

radical insight;
fired students
​to prove

mastery
moved

to verification 
of conceptualization 
internalization 
of a thought, skill
no pointless treadmill
endless drills
but practice till
you remember 
and can't forget
ever, 
melanated,
hard wired
no child's
mental tire

unobserved
her mind, 
a relentlessly shaking sieve,

crafted a path
to transform
chaff
to wheat
that class had a BEAT
a rhythm 
safe haven
to those blessed to be
in a seat
in her kingdom
of emancipation;

ICU 

had to remove 
her tumor;
angels let me in

with a beanie penguin
Cedars at midnight 
to pray
as she lay 
head-bandaged alone;
relearned to read
systematic regimine 
to recapture
fractured 
neural networks
effective climb...
til a skid
problem not rid
meds, prayer, couldn't halt 
the decline 
family team
in and out house
me with an eye 
on something
miracle-seekers
not able
to see

death approaching
rapidly;
family left the room;
"Do you know what's happening?"
"Maria,
do you know what's happening?"

Slowly,
"I think... you're dying"

Slowly
shook her head

"Maria,
I believe that's what's happening."

She 
fell into my  eyes

face soft
a sigh

 into a Mona-Lisa-lit smile;

Family entered;
I drove home
to gmail
where a talk of Ted
at the top of unread
black bold text

"Am I dying?
the honest answer"

a paramed
spoke
of accidents

when injured asked;
after years
of legislated silence
he broke 
and when

convinced 
by the evidence

told the truth
​"Yes"

his experience
from endless trials?

"they always smile."
​


Picture
Home

A house falls 
heaven unfolds
"fear not"
we are told 
but when its your own
your name, 
social biome?

years past
​I sat
on the wall

forces 
called to prevent
a great fall

but all the king's horses
 all my men
could not glue me 

together again

time to a-tone
find a new home
meaning get at-one
now under the gun
with Atum
skip theology 
self-improvemet
technologies
those require meds 
intended 
NOT for me
instead
find truth
that sustains
grown ups  
that nurtures, 
shows up
when times are tough
and times will
without a doubt
get rough
if that third step 
is taken
sincerely enough;​

at some point in time
God takes us
at our word
and so does the other kind
moving a large herd
an energy, force

call it what you want
we lack power over something
that knows what it wants
our soul, darlings,
it seems its true
something within 
is coming after me and you
so be afraid 
but not of God
cuz God is love
and steadily does
but there's an "if"
when we pray
for protection
provision
direction
for LIFE
reborn we are 
out of strife 
into emancipation
​surrendered to liberation 
between the brain's sides
guided to right sized
no longer resigned 
to live in a lie;

birds flown the coop
escaped!
through a hoop
woman without legs
an unlikely gate
of powerless
bewilderment,
frustration, despair
a moment of clarity
made it bare:
my failure to die
the same to live
caught in torture
​with no give
a way opened
 inaudible whisper 
tumbled the wall
no fireworks, glitter
but a one-to-one talk
from the heart
the waters did part
secrets revealed 
spilled out on pages
"let it flow"
"censorship? no!"
"what you don't put down 
you get to keep;"
something sowed
you now reap:

beliefs tethered
to my soul
fears justified or 
fantasized
let go

real hurts that go deep
small or large
doesn't matter
it's up to God 
to shatter
clean up the splatter
of defects of character:
misguided clout

lack of respect, 
lazy intellect 
stories believed,
using rabbits up my sleeve
huge need 
for attention
entitled pretension

driven hard
by self-centered fear
kept no one near
a new perspective
 cleared
away all that wreckage
live now and here;

goodbye old king
and the glue
of that kingdom's come
I'm undone! 
inspired
loved and loving
in my skin 
giving and living
with a song and God's strength
still going to any lengths
complete 
from simple tools
laid at my feet
P.S. 
I learned not to expect 
they'll appreciate
my liberated state
for that I no longer wait
but maintain and grow
own my own 
with others who 
call the same home, 
"HOME."



​

Picture


Commandment One 

Counterfeit gods
pull me to and fro
prestige, men, money
call me to let go
of HP, my God,
main love, Creator
the Power uses
my voice to whisper,
sing, suggest, holler
good news from my seat
in meetings, buses
at tables, in street;

Old Testament times
if prayers' breath
went up to false gods,
they were stoned to death;

"extreme, cruel, unfair"
we
exclaim today
"to stone a woman
whose fallen away?"

"agreed," I’d argue
"yet let's zero in
have we lost sense of
the high price of sin?"

again you say, "sin?”
concept outdated;
all God's children are
loved celebrated;”

"yes, that is true
brilliant creations
hardwired to reveal
God's animation;

what leads us astray?
what claims our soft hearts?
Jerks us to stray
isolate, depart?

same choice encountered
by those long ago
who made golden calf
- to 'I am' said, 'No!'

preferred visible
no different than we
man-made creation
golden entity;

Moses smashed tablets
threw them in disgust
ground up Aaron's calf
into golden dust;

Pharaoh demanded
grain economy
predator kingpin
Hebrew slavery;

groans broke the silence
God heard the cry
destroyed Pharoah’s folk
in waters of Nile

liberated slaves

fed manna and quail
still bitch, sedate, moan
ceaselessly wail

miracles abound
to right and to left
"abandoned," we cry
while distraught, bereft;

our desert is real

it is there we choose
surrender to God
or return to booze

or some solution

sex, food, gambling
Adderal, Norco,
blame-based rambling;

some are more subtle
control, scheduling,
sports, Netflix, pride,
Instagram, chablis;


others get whole world's
stamp of clearance
self-seeking giving,
ego-drive talents;

archery gave us
that repulsed word sin
which means 'miss the mark'
the bullseye within;

we miss it often
throughout our few days
if we are honest
to truthfully say


takes more than we have
not to covet and want,
surrender to God
as the only real font
of love, truth, beauty,
compassion, delight,
purpose, fulfillment
freedom from fright;

ten laws it takes to
bring truth into light
powerless we are
to choose what is right;

Great Spirit within
the One, the Great Love
who knows how we fail
gives Power above

beyond what we know;
so set aside thought
instead let God show
what lies our souls bought

then move into flow
as we get aligned

with spiritual laws
through ordered design

cosmic order shows
evidence resounds
God is revealed here;
when sought is found.

​so sin has purpose
deliberate, true
without it we're lost
can't discover
the who
​
of me,
the what of you,

the truth of disease
consciousness to
get down on my knees
and kiss holy ground
reconnect, restart,
give all my heart;
so I can know
my true identity
because of whose
​I always will be:
God's child set free."

Thou shalt have no other Gods before me. Exodus 20:2



***


Picture


Amend White to Black

Harm
to my sister:
graced
to see the mocking
,
abandonment
to mean small town
wolves;

told her the
stuck-in-my-throat-for-years
truth from
waiting-for-us
garden chairs;
moved forward
chastened
to change, amend;
love dismembered
re-membered.

Harm
to my black brothers and sisters:
graced
to see wrongs
tell some truth
​in this poem
to move forward from
a love
dis-membered;
I speak
without consent
for “white" people.
I make amends for:

Lies

about Black Africa’s
role as cradle
of all civilization
age to age
the same deception,
hiding Truth
of Luci’s testimony
humanity’s conception date,
of Annunaki
engineering energy,
uncovering the Creator
by observation
Ma’at’s verifiable
Good
Orderly
Direction
expressed by Africans
in mathematics,
God’s language:
formulas for
area of spheres,
value of pi,
volume of cylinders,
truncated pyramids,
ratio of spheres
to corresponding cylinders
trigonometric ratios
thousands of years
before the Greek hijack
for deaf ears
blind eyes
of those who saw
Archimedes’ lies,
erasing footprints

to sources of ideas:
“the genesis of the
great number of propositions:”

Ignorance

African seeds
of infinite and finite
in Heh, Hehet
for resurrection, redemption,
in Osiris and Isis,
and the trinity
“I was one:
I became three.”
for the Dogon's knowledge:
celestial effects
invisible star
one thimble forty tons
altering the orbit of Sirius
for discerning the relationship
of earth and sun,
​for the calendar
for squelching minimizing
the truth of your science,
engineering,
teaching
as evidenced
in the alignment of
Giza’s pyramids
to Orion
to mathematical formulae.

Distortion

for portraying
Enoch and Daniel’s
woolly-haired
Ancient of Days’
​as straight-haired,
white,
slender-nosed,
thin-lipped
for letting Constantine,
King James
warp the Word to be
un-loving
anti-loving
​anti-rational
platform for
inaccessible suffocating theology
for failing to see
the parallel between
the black Son of Man
killed
on the cross
and black Sons of Man
killed
on poplar trees,
for separating
science, love, God
for lying so well
as to make truth
unbelievable.


Robbery
​
kidnapping stealing you
oblivious

to majesty,
humanity

in beyond-cruel transport
cross-Atlantic coffins
multitudes tortured,
humiliated,
​starved,

thrown to sharks
​why
are we not weeping

hysterically
as movies, 
documentaries, books,
expose

our horrors
explicitly?

whites rage when pricked
while neutral to blacks' 
​impalement.

Cruelty

allowing laws,
underfunded jail-feeding schools,
predatory economics,

random violence
with nooses, bombs,
jails, 
to terrorize, subjugate,
for robbery of peace

when on a bus,
driving to work,
selling CDs,
at church

walking in a hoodie...

Oppression

litigation of

unequal, separate trains
leading to education,

bathrooms, water fountains
the same
for rendering
intelligence and wisdom as
"nice but ineffective,"
(John Lewis, Clayton Powell...)

intentionality, purpose as
"violent," "anti-American"
(Black Lives Matter, Colin Kapernick)
creativity, talent
as "natural to those people,"
(Beyonce, Michael, Quincy)

for blasting hope,
killing Malcolm 

covering the conspiracy. 
For blasting hope,
killing Martin

covering the conspiracy
for hissing
ignoring

Selassee’s plea to honor
the League of Nations’
promise
 to protect 
as Italy annihilated a
generation of beauty,
carefully
 cultivated
to lead with love

for making inner-city-coke snow
for that blizzard’s
devastation of
black love,

relationships,
freedom,

spirituality,
integrity,
dignity, 

people in endless jail
from a bogus drug war
stemming into justifying,
marketing mass incarceration
voting rights robbed again
Jim Crow
under a new mask.

Hypocrisy

reacting

to Irma's flood victims
​with compassion

while breached-levees
Army Corps
"Katrina" victims caged

in a filthy fouled Superdome
For treating
white opioid 
addiction 
with rehabilitation 
while “Drug War” victims 
police targeted,
incarcerated.. 

for fear of 
your sons,
black men

when we should be
terrified of
our sons
white men
expert justifiers of cruelty:

joyful in brutality,
as torture-whipped productivity.
made cotton
picked by blood-soaked hands
19th century
get-rich commodity


​Envy

 of your women
music, way, faith
voyeurs of your culture
when we should have
raised a fist,

joined the song,
​marched, knelt along
all along.

for innocent verdicts
for the beaters,
murderers

of Rodney King, Philadro Castile
Michael Brown, Tamir Rice
Anthony Lamar Smith, Alton Sterling…
for ravaging-grabbing
Boar-warring
for your resources

gold, uranium, diamonds, rubies…
for hope-crushing practices
fines, fees, police,
for not telling the truth
not shaming the devil
for ‘restricted’ roads, gated communities
for alt-right-out-right racism
klu kluxian obliteration distortion
of evidence for creating
the unholy trinity of Donald Trump,
David Dukes, Steve Bannon

Silence

​Expecting
funding money 
to set it straight
expecting
guilt 
to set it straight
expecting
gratitude 
for paltry efforts
expecting
judicial law 
to right the wrong
when heaven’s law
was and is broken,
expecting
forgiveness 
for nothing but the passage of time
the false hope something’s changed
expecting
politicians to make it right

expecting
​a response when this poem is read.



***
​

Picture

Kaboom!!

Voice carves
territory
all cower
confronted
with verbal
gunpowder
entities
cannon fire:
"Why you...?"
"You caint..."
on the attack
on crack

aims
for broken back
total capture
spinal fracture
"this block is mine"
you're too weak,
to cross my line.

Slim lives in
back of the house

slender spirit 
rents a room
sells weed
on street
Kaboom oversees;
slow-mo
on tip toe

exchange; 
can't turn 
covered-in-sweat 
head

moves instead
looks to corner
cell-seeking owner 
of bills he needs
for deeper addiction -
needle feeds;

Rob rents too
lecher-man
invites me in 
sees if he can;
when he hears
I talk to God
 loves the Lord
pays his board
rides bike 
to stay outdoors
tries AA
sobriety
keeps steps at bay
convinced his church
has the last say
truth, light, way,
"what they allow
bout God's a sin
won't take me up
the holy mountain"
eventually
back he goes

to church, crack, 
dope

invites me to see
baptism certificate

I say, "nope;"
though it's legitimate.


Ben's there too,
fiance
has to surrender
Kaboom obey
sits out front
on the stoop;
struggles 
for autonomy
to break free
of her intensity
starts to yell
to communicate
assumes wife's 
operandi
be a knife

especially when
talking life
with other men
on the block
or those who stop
for Slim's stock;


Daughter
also abides
with the rest inside;
she disabled
2 years ago
still a ways to go
ever restless
in her skin
ear buds in
yelps at son

 Kaboom's grand;
he shoots up,
like a corn stalk

scoots
up down sidewalk
her belly grows
more each day
the father? 
she doesn't say, 
maybe someone
who couldn't pay;


Who's Kaboom?
matriarch
mama of all, 
spark 
ignites fights
lights
laughs
crazy gaffs
on my corner
strutting down 
narrow street
giant antlers
sweep 
side to side
flip flops
slide
bright tooth shark
that barks
predator
a zillion trillion quarks
a soul so big
sought a giant home
in which to roam.
What resides
inside? 
What life events
left her completely
shorn
no shred of penance?


All these folks
contained,
restrained
in duplex side
two-bedroom
what a ride...
how would I do
if in their shoes?
Want to run
every day
beyond the rainbow
where bluebirds sing, 
and happiness 
is a real thing?
Probably
I'd crack too
if that'd take me 
over that sky stripe
of many hues
beyond the blues
Is it legit excuse
when space-sound
territory
won't let you be?
Would I shriek,

"Give me Kaboom's
cracked liberty!"


​***

​


Picture


A Maze from Above

One way out,
one in
spark to spark
from haze
to labyrinth,
a loving maze
with no dead ends
enter and follow 
path sends
step by step
to One
central station
destination
exit as you came;
tired 
of the same?
"Follow we"
it's trans-mitted
through
trans-parent
way.

Step One
foot totters
tight rope walker
people stare
from chairs
"why she looks 
at me like that?"
"do I look stupid?
"is this cool?"
"am I a fool?"
I should exit now 
pretend
never did intend 
to enter
- just a visitor
yet terror
bewilderment
frustration
despair
deep distress
birth 
willingness
to care
to move to 
you, 
the screw
for this nut,

who gets through,
voice
who transmits
loss of choice
over booze
lack of power
to choose
other than me
and move to;

Step Two
set aside
punitive
restrictive
theological
bind
superstitious
unkind
concepts 
of God
set aside 

prejudice
find a Power
FOR us
free
guiding
energetically
creative
loving:
an Employer
who wants the best
as we go about
the business
of serving
in the cathedral
at our feet
keep moving
in the labyrinth
choose no defeat
no bitter end
spiritual help
portends
mercy
fellowship
dignity
a "we" set free

​Step Three
moving on
built upon
Step 2
trusting You
convinced 
that any life
built on self
leads to strife
effort
at control
collecting tolls
exact
payment
from 
descent
into fear
its demands to drive
to steer
run/hide
stop go
steal the show
now my life's 
an offering
on-going gift
all my truth
bears witness
to shift, transformation
validation
of trust
in certain "musts"
of depth and weight
must let go,
not hesitate,
must not run the show
resentment must be mastered
but no!
we lack the power
to wish them away
that's an invitation
to next foray
forward
through next doors

Steps Four
Five
Six, Seven
Eight through Twelve
lead to heaven
within our being
new way of seeing
​not frenetic
 path to freedom
in-outer energetic
subtle kingdom
unity
with family
not in a haze
but graced
to be;
I AM
without end
​a-mazed!!

The spiritual life is not a theory. We have to live it... If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness... We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves."
- Big Book pages 83-84


​***

Picture


Labor Pain

Started
when playing
back yard ball
"here we go"
she called

second birth
so I know
as pains grow
light candle
pace to handle
intensity
poppa slept
next to me
this time
not inept
in rhyme 
"open, open" 
meditate

anxious shopper
at morning's gate
wait

uterine walls
pulling back
widen hall
contract
for stranger,
tiny friend to pass
she, sensing
change
came to open door
my heartbeat
she would hear no more
each day,
all day

good bye safe cave
out came
straight to breast;
upper eye open
is it you?
the one who
I've heard

these many months
knew was there
but where?
all around
within me too;
she grew and grew
for the most part
strong and free
til, at twenty three,
brain injury
cerebral swell
my angel fell
into seeming hell
ICU

couldn't move
a tomb
​her own body
couldn't speak
 misery
"Please God"
despair's pleas
painful memories;

My dear friend's
perfect daughter
broke water
was through
with high school's 
rules
at fourteen
starts to 

disappear,
left peers 
to southside motel
there to reap

in skimpy clothes
for man, a rogue
"come home!"
"call my cell"
mom doesn't know
where she is,
if she's well;
to let go,
cooks, bakes
a way to make
one hour pass
"darling, go back 
to math class!"
social worker scans
near and far
for this wave upon sand
 moonbeam in hand
gifted one
lifted off
on her own feet to stand;
we watch, wonder
emotions asunder
how will this child land?
in despair-hope's grind
pain gets all
to pray

she find
inner resource
a whisper, shout
Power, Force

to push herself out;

Neighbor mom's
daughter
studious but envious
of bi-friend
"liberated"
by way of bad dad
who molests;
she attests
to glory of duress
which makes her an enchantress;
naive one yearns
for a way to show
this hurting girl
the close of her innocence
her own violence;
cuts her wrists
unanticipated twist
mom weeps
"what did I miss?'
"How did it come to this?"
strong woman
suffers, seeks
to clearly see
what led her babe
to cry so dramatically;

we're in pain
for our babes
children need
help from above
not sufficient
mum's love

God guide these three
many more
beyond our door
raging father
of seven
 year old 
drinks and swears
accuses abuses
doesn't care
or feel terror
lodged in son
teaches him
to carry a gun;
as another's son
still in the bottle
on the run
from alcoholism


all these?
fierce

in birth
emerged
daily steadily
broke free;
moved hands
led to walking
spoken word
led to talking
contractions
lead to expansions
gave birth
over time;
​

Is this part
of the design?
that all be reborn
a second time?
with God align
become divine
contractions a must
as we are moved
beyond

identity as dust
to Spirits all
walking tall;
labor pain's
never contained
in birthday's walls;
we all emerge
from world's matrix hall 
single eye open

"is it you?"
the one I've heard
for months,
for years,
at times

knew was here? 
where?
all around
within me too
after rebirth,
evermore in view.


​
Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews.
This man came to Jesus by night and said to him, 
​“Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.” 
Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the Kingdom of God.” 
Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother's womb and be born?” 
Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. 
That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. 
Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ 
The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, 
but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. 
So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” - John 3:1-7


***
​

Picture
‘Inner Woman’ by Magno

The Whisper

How can it be 
that a wretch 
like me

can be taken to
​such liberty?
How is it possible
this blind, 
stubborn woman

can be made
a heart-of-flesh human?

inner mules 
subtly pulled
numb urgency,
hid emergency
neutered desperation 
need for renovation

couldn't ask
wouldn't call
stuck,
balked;

faced the road's cross
surrendered
to pause,
remotely conscious
of invisible claws
led to hearing

a whisper
"give it all;"

then somehow,
I walked;
haze lifted
along the way

was let in at a gate
moved away
from indifference,
from the cliff
to which I remained
oblivious;


no forcing,
no coercing;
connected, 
look back 
to see 
the Presence
clearly;

gratitude

anew-heart
cracks
open;
stretch

poem ​sketch

bears witness
to God's Energy;

gratitude
for the Word
grateful
to hear, be heard
grateful 
to fear,
be assured
live the sense
of loving presence;

open,

whisper recollection;
it was you;

soul, heart, reflection,
'
lêb' ​in Hebrew.



And he said, “Go out and stand on the mount before the Lord.”
And behold, the Lord passed by,
and a great and strong wind tore the mountains
and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord,
but the Lord was not in the wind.

And after the wind an earthquake,
but the Lord was not in the earthquake. 
And after the earthquake a fire,
but the Lord was not in the fire.

And after the fire the sound of a low whisper.
And when Elijah heard it, 
he wrapped his face in his cloak
and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.
And behold, there came a voice to him and said,
“What are you doing here, Elijah?”
1 Kings 19:11-13




​***


​

Picture
Lady Justice

Get your fucking meds
offa me
take your
on-and-on-and-on
​shenanegans

self-love-first bullshit
offa me 
get your hands
off my child
let our fire run wild

wind blow
storm toss -
now that's free
right now
I don't give a shit
about serenity
the Psalmist cries
and so do I;

pull your critique
off my rage
and shove it 
into your own old age
those last days
when you look back 
and wonder
"why did I sedate God's thunder,
the dose given to me
which I let go 
to squelch, squish,
squeeze into conformity?"

Breck lady I am not
and yes mother-fucker
I am practicing love
by writing this,
prayed at the top of the page
for truth to be spoken;
listened to a Sage
unrestrained
by on-going strangulation, 
an excess of moderation 
all make me need to explode -
BAM!
Give me ten gavels to slam
fire to burn
I'm not crazy
can't lock me up
I pray to never ever 
give the key to free;

wake up!
liars lie,
find others to cosign

what's they've chosen
to keep frozen
hard as rock
(stay awake to who's willing to defrost);
I am Lady jJustice;
I am armed,

blind folded,
and see 
with clarity
to lead the angels' army!




***

Picture
Fig Leaves

Fig leaves
plucked from
garden's
grove,
hid
original gold

sacred haven
to sow
into from
Eve's tree;

two as one
once resided

entwined
inside Paradise

without green fashion
to stall
hard wired,
holy passion;


Creative Mind,
conceived
a way to make
new life
give urge
merge
man and wife
as One

something new
under the sun
​so I question -
Spirit's intercession,
human-loveless
conception

within Mary's womb,
though not beyond
the One
who emptied the tomb

to conceive a child
without orgasm,
embrace,
without a trace
of mystery

warm chasm
euphoric as-one
​drawn out spasm,

we lesser beings
get to taste;

why make chaste

sex thunder,
subjugate
its wonder,
complexity?
​

is her virginity,
a human construct
to joy destruct
impeach
render out of reach
on high
our Brother
the Son of Man
rather than identify,
social strata defy
enter together
into the messy mix
of love, passion,
choice, decision,
varied crucifix
with him
be we sober, drunk,
sinners, monks;

is it a craving
for
Paradise,
for "nice,"

a distortion to reduce
the sanctity,
divinity
of sexuality,

our holy families?
​who loses most from this story?
who gains
from a single man's
immaculate glory?
aren’t we all children of God,
and therefore holy?


why would God separate
his love child,
meant to celebrate
agitate for truth
in a lived and
risen life,
one of us
full of promise;
born under a star
into Herod's envy,
corrupt religiosity,
in other words,
humanity,
where lusty, thirsty,
seeking-a-way-out-of-lonely

men and women
​breathe,

​find Thee
break free
reach lost souls

as human sages
able to enter
gritty or spanky stages
with no halos to betray
soul-fishers who're heaven sent
hearts intent
for a way to live our time well spent
where we thrive
like Adam and Eve
strive

to hear You,
hear divinity;
as we too rise
to infinity,
purity
for​ever holy
out from under
​fig leaves.


Son of Man

Picture
Mayan Recovery

moving on
they crave to go
walk alone
to uncover ​truth
rediscover 
discard what's not
re-member 
​parts to whole,
recover.

"
¡Mi tierra,
mi padre,
mis abuelos
mis bisabuelos,
mi Dios
ayudame!"

grita 
su alma,
canta su musica,
sola nunca y siempre 
en el camino
al cielo
por dentro, por fuera;

"my land,
my father,
my grandparents,
my great grandparents,
my God
help me!"
cries out 
her soul,
sings their music,
alone never and always
in the path
to heaven
within and without;


¡Canta
"mi tierra,
mi padre,
mis abuelos
mis bisabuelos,
mi Dios,
ayudame!"


sola nunca y siempre 
en el camino
al cielo
por dentro, por fuera.

"Jesus said, If your leaders say to you
'Look! The Kingdom is in the sky!
then the birds will be there before you are.
If they say that the Kingdom is in the sea,
then the fish will be there before you are.
Rather, the Kingdom is within you
and it is outside of you." 

- The Gospel of Thomas, saying 3a.


***


​

Picture
The Leader of the Pack
 
Why do I fight for ownership?
Why steal ideas?
Why do I want the credit?
What needs to heal?
 
It’s pride, it’s pride,
the king of all defects
It’s pride, yeah it’s pride
that can not show respect.
 
Why beg innocence
When I get caught?
Sincere and pure at heart -
a lie I’ve bought!
 
It’s pride, it’s pride,
the master of denial
It’s pride, yeah it's pride
pours perfume on a pile.
 
Why do your words annoy me so    
when you speak truth?
Expect you to revere
co-sign and sooth?
 
It’s pride, it’s pride,
the lynchpin of the group
It’s pride, ooo it’s pride
silences the truth.

 
Why shield cruelty
fail to speak out?
permit injustice?
suppress my clout?
 
It’s pride, it’s pride,
the boss of all the louts
It’s pride, sure is pride
that fails to call it out!

 
Why grab for what is my
territory?
Why do I say “keep out!”
to refugees?
 
It’s pride, it’s pride,
employer of them all!
It’s pride, yes it’s pride
that builds a great big wall!
 
Why do I cover up
put on a mask?
Say all is fine
when you ask?
 
It’s pride its’ pride
guru of defects
It’s pride yeah its pride

the usual suspect!

It’s pride, it’s pride
that stabs you in the back!
It’s pride, yeah it’s pride
​the leader of the pack!



Now Jesus told a parable to those who were invited,
when he noticed how they chose the places of honor,
saying to them,
"When you are invited by someone to a wedding feast,
do not sit down in a place of honor,
lest someone more distinguished than you be invited by him,
and he who invited you both will come and say to you,
"Give your place to this person,'
and then you will begin with shame to take the lowest place.
​But when you are invited,
go and sit in the lowest place,
so that when your host comes he may say to you,
"friend, move up higher.'
Then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at table with you.
For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled,
and he who humbles himself will be exalted."


- Jesus as quoted in Luke 14



***




Picture

At Stake
 
What to say?
What to do?
What moves?
What’s true?
 
pray to
pay attention

stay awake
eyes wide open
life's 
at stake
 
How to listen?
What to hear?
What enters?
What steers?
 
pray to
watch reactions

watch  duress
watch factions
​watch next steps
 
he’s a scoundrel

a selfish lout!
relentless liar

but I'm sold out

pray to
peel labels

keep out fear
categories
disappear

 
I'm a hawk
he’s peddling fear
so self righteous,
bling, veneer.
 
pray to
shed resentment
surrender fear
all but trust
disappears

 
faith 
but not blind?
trust
but not deaf?
 
pray to
hear it all
listen for lies
open your heart
be wise

see the whole 
smell the rot
pause, roll,

eyes on megawatt
pray for God’s power
cuz perfect Earth's not


FAITH
is not blind
TRUST
is not deaf
LOVE 

awakens to truth
​gets honest, forgets,
mourns, grieves, lives,

prays, forgives
dances, seeks
sings as it weeps;

pays attention
stays awake
moves with eyes open
love's at stake.


"Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth." - Pema Chodrun
"Life is like stepping into a boat that is about to sail out to sea and sink." Shunkyu Suzuki Rumi



​***


​

​

Picture
Sunday Morning

Family sleeps;
mom wakes
shakes kids
rolls hair
prepares lair
for church trip
morning fare:
coffee, 
low-fat half and half,
splenda sweetener, 
"child, you have
to move your ass!
Comb your hair
choose what to wear
Let's go!"
ready to show

community
everyone sees
right into
he-she-family

holy trinity:
pew back right
priest just in sight
exit slow
check with those
flowing dough
keeps Jeeps,
Cadillacs,
hilltop mansion
financially afloat.

Flor's at work
opening barrista 
supplies caffeine
to mistas sistas
connecting over
what shots to shoot,
milks to use,
oat, almond,
soy, choose
just right
​subtle fight
for perfect taste
$4 to sate
that hunger for 
righteous lore
a blessing
for the meek
those that seek
God's will outside
church whose 
walls often reek
of exclusivity
obtuse theology
sends sheep
flying to coffee,
nearer my God
to thee.

Me? 
some years ago

sun 
set me aglow
right on time
concrete sign
Jonah and me
both set free
by plunging into 
your will for me
for him, 
stay or go
for all who flee
a crossroad
face stormy sea 
or surrender
that leads
to meet

at book study
read and share
listen, care,
learn to live
each can give
where there's two
no matter who
like manna
it lingers
but for day's wisp
let the text
call who's next
what comes to mind
inside we find
world sublime
shaped
by our times
on this our planet
don't ever plan it
language of the heart
of flesh

keep it fresh
straight from deep down
no polish please
no golden crown
no little you's,
big I's

right sized
just people 
growing wise
steady as she goes
through the throws
of life concerns
first things first
new life churns
surprised to unlearn
old ideas, beliefs
and see a tree grow
a felt flow
strong root,
cleansed flute

​every day
sun day



***

Picture
My He

Spiderman!
Leapt on stretched
strands
flying to foreign
lands
generates justice
ministers truth
to those not used
to fearless certainty
grounded
God's energy
ancestors' juice
spiritual roots
fathom
barely-read Biblical
nooks
liberate listeners
from entrenched hooks
in sacred books

used for
multi-racial captivity;

he speaks free-easy
rationally
of what's so real
we all want to be
under his tree
as the rays
fly free
from his being;
grandpa's love
nurtured his sanity
"you'll know who
is better than you;
they'll jump up
and fly away;"

matrix exposé
visible to him
clear as day
"I'm not under"
he would say
since incarnation day;

Spiderman!
watch out!
princes, kings
golden polo
​embossings

bedeck but can get
tight at neck;
beware!
can superheroes
play fair
without soot

when mega game is afoot?
Power's to care
for God's kids;
are we at the bid
of the game
rather than undoing lies
​sent to tame?
can gold and acclaim
be released
with such ease?
peeled off
tip top speed?
Is family the end
or pretend priority?

Spiderman!
Your voice
speaks choice:
"can't come by;"

feet don't lie
testify
year after year
steer clear
more than alone
can't embrace a phone
can't trust 
someone who must
withhold;
what do I know?
 deep secrecy
of your identity
(even your street)

leaves
web thread 
stretched thin
broken
so untie
or die
loneliness
makes that possible
tonight
it's goodbye
that allows us to fly

like momma advised
hail a new taxi
move through
to another who
gives a ride
but oh!

this web's tricky,
sticky,
​like glue

thickly wrapped 
​cocoon
entangled trapped

not with ease
extract
mind, spirit, heart
this woman must release
you to your mission;
no submission
for you
for me
we both
own responsibility
of good Power

meant to be freed
unleashed

I don't guess
but see
this must be our exodus
but I do grieve
the outbound whoosh,
the loss of my He.




***



Picture

Fire Choirs

sisters, listen, hear
hold one another dear
don't undermine
laugh to find
joy
in sublime 
crannies
of time

phone,

table talk,
walks,
water cooler at work,

laundromat drier,
inter-woman-fire choir.

brothers?
got to love-em
but bring crazy
want to 
make love
then run
back to you,
my lioness pride;
don't get me wrong
we have catty shit
jealousy's a big one
but get over it
with age
a wiser sage
has taken over
the man's no longer
the goal,
the 
extolled
why I roll,

but a pain
in the brain
(and the ass)

but gotta take their
razz ma tazz

as ordained
to pass

through heaven's gate
when all the world
dissipates
into one lovely
floated feather
miles wide
without tether
way way way
​above the weather,
the news,
to glorious hues
choose
a couple's good news, 
love's fire

bedroom choir!

my mate-saint
​before he went
to this nobody
sent

two girls
our life unfurled
bears witness
to family
birthed in sanctity
been seven-years
I'm still here,
yearn
learn
to join dance
extract from mire
feel "no ways tired"
voices resonate
"my goodness it ain't
but the hand of the Lord
that's upon me"
better to sing than obsess
on the mess
health care bills,
cruel society ills
or "did he text?"
and be a wreck
gotta blare praise
with my crew
soprano, alto, tenor, bass,
who knew?!
vocal clay
to express
what God wants to say;
pain, courage,
awe, unity,
clap, sway,

bust belly energy,
harmony;

born afresh
hearts enmeshed
divine alchemy
connected
to the One
raise the sun
have some damn fun!
multi colored
​electric wire fire:

gospel choir!


​***


Picture

Congo Square!

Congo square

meet you there! 
Bring your wares
something to share
a story,
a drum
all come
no worries
no cares
rumors of lands 
not at hand...
together we find
what is kind
warm sand

djembe palms
soul balm
midst a southern ocean
of cruelty in motion.

A public space, 
a gift of Grace,

but now stopped at gate;
she tensed,

"Fenced?"
"Just for today" 
so they say...
reggae
emancipates 
so charge fee to 
access  that liberty
from mental slavery

"open to 
cash opportunity;"
keep company
with Jay-Z
spiritually​

"we got to get past
that bended knee"
suggests Colin's fallen 
ineffectively
into kneelin' for liberty;
without NBC
who will tell
the message?
I've got NFL
so all will yell
"Cough it up, Goodell!"

more bravery
to sign a contract
or take a knee?
Roger and Jay
on wedding day
marriage
filled media carriage
close ups zoom
of groom and groom

cutting the cake
so much damn money at stake
all for the cause
of course
humanity first
no "all for justice" bubble
​has to be burst!

Congo square!
near by
slaves were sold
mothers told
sons and daughter
no longer theirs to hold
wails went out
shouts
DNA altered
for generations onward
trauma's there
recorded, ensnared
mama's bended knee
plea
gained no child free;
Colin's bended knee
levied
new consciousness
of a race still suppressed
by aggression
transgressions
of black brown kin
and liberated HIM
no longer owned
by gold diggers
forty niners;
pass complete
a free agent
no quarter on HIS back!

Congo square!
Where drum circle
sings 
under giant oak trees
beautiful breeze
statue of indian chief
slaves dance in frieze
just get inside the beat
let go of care
wrest free; 
do what's right
in God's sight
in Congo Square
​or anywhere!


​***

Picture
The Enormity of Iniquity

the enormity of iniquity
keeps me up, 
eaten me up

since before I was ten
in suburb pen
saturated in
full-fridge privilege
hearing how eating those damn peas
makes a the difference for them;
Come on!
how DO I do right

by my fellow men?

every day my neighbor needs
to shake human trees
all energy spent
hitting on who's already bent
from this and that expense;

a bottleneck
cash traffic jam;
this one waits, 
that one holds it up;
I lean on my mental horn,
entitled, outraged,
I watch, torn,

powerless to move the flow
make it go
tiny financial worlds
stuck and run amuck
wacked bills bite
make everyone tight
devoured by the crooked croc,
surrender to the swallowing?
what else is there to do?
get angry, stamp feet,
laugh till we pee?
Hit the streets
fight for equity?
try to breath,
 live in a world 
where more often than not
the innocent get got
who say, "I knew it"
when predicted bullshit shows up

women nurture children,
take them to school,
shop for shoes, work, too,
at 83 grandma lives on a dime
still makes big time
for great great grands;
keeps local flow on the go
people who pray
(that's with an 'A')
​in their own way
without religious dictates
;
cuz seems those who prey
(with an 'E')
can be
blind to their identity

full of religiosity 
do-good mentality

cause more wounds
to those already 
heading to the grave too soon
from worries, unpaid bills
utility company ills,
water prices through the roof
quintupled without proof
(she lives alone
only flushes when she poos!)

no-good realtors, 
no-raise employers, 

protected predators:
seems lots of people steal
when there's not enough
or too much,
lie when high and dry
or just want an even bigger piece
of a gargantuan pie;
haves once again
drip from have nots
an angry blood clot
travels to the heart;
sedated middle class
 
vital to oppression.
dimmed-wit ammunition, 
with conscience in remission;
are those "blessings"
fruit of the unjust?
own the condition
not just settle the dust;

The enormity of iniquity
Is way beyond me
so is the nature of the galaxy
the reality of infinity
of God's love for spoiled-brat me;
so since I'm found
and freed, i'm bound 
to love my neighbor
pray with an 'A'
 to the Creator
just for today 
and not let thieves
​I'm called to love 
have their way;

maybe that's what he meant
by, "turn the other cheek"
pray, love, BE ferocity
when necessary!
Neither fool nor indifferent
am I created to be
in the enormity of iniquity.
​

​

Picture
images of survivors of Auschwitz
True Love
​
Love is the mandate
but how to not hate?
how to see:
Klan members
as sick with soul cancer?
Third Reich cruelty

as spiritual vacuity?
a pedophile
who harms a child
as the devil gone wild?

True love, 
extended to the "enemy,"

must surely be
divinely sent,
may require 
​lovers be bent,
doubled over in pain

from personal sense
of  fear's acid rain
whose corrosion,
brings implosion
below the ego
where
something new
may grow in a heart;
God's found
a path to impart
each soul
each inner black hole
with Presence
an Essence
to guide through,
ugly, messy, often cruel
human brew
from where we call
"Abba, forgive them, 
for they know not what they do
blind they are
as I am, too."


True love
​as friendship,
a much different trip
relations sublime
share swathes
of time

 people in our kitchen,
willing to pitch in,

with whom we break bread,
maybe share a bed,
keep our word
 hear and are heard,
admit when wrong,
pay attention to songs
the ones God gave us
when born to this earth
be they mournful
or full of mirth;

we are friends
of each others' minds,
"gather them, the pieces,
 gather them
and give them back 
in all the right order;"
not crazy-makers
who shatter peace,
upside down truth shakers

who fear increase;
leave those people be
move steadily 
resist return
to what makes water 
unnecessarily churn;
goodness is real;
more is revealed;
being found
leads to rich finds,
wait time
​leads to gold mines
when our intent
is to honor, obey
the Higher Power
who saves
that moves us
to get out of the way
and let true love
come our way.



"Suddenly he (Paul D.) remembers Sixo trying to describe what he felt about the Thirty-Mile Woman. "She is a friend of my mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order. It's good, you know, when you got a woman who is a friend of your mind." 
- Toni Morrison from Beloved


As She Goes

my heart
walks outside
my body

she cooks,
gently talks
to embrace 
sibling in loss

pays attention
to detail 
of each step's
effects

senses 
hurts 
I can't feel 
or hear
ear not tuned
to that level
of clear -

so I listen,
watch,
​follow
in her glow
as she goes.


***

​

Picture
Beloved Uncle

stopped the car,
took bended knee
between headlights
to ask 
"marry me?"
Jill agreed;
four children ensued
imbued
in faith
raised

in dialogue with mom
in percussion, 
with dad's
sublime rigidity -
belief, faith
in rightness,
superiority
unwillingness to see
"I am because of we"
included the whole
complex caste
society; 
classic patriarch
beloved within family,
seen with clarity
to varied degrees
but oblivious 
to the over-time
wrestle
wrought 
within his children,
grands,

their grapple
with beliefs
passed down
perhaps genetically
generating their own
​experience

with white fragility.


​***


ss

Picture
Parade

Be aware
of the easy-to-fall-for
​ parade,

each glam float
tosses beads
to side-lined 
folks
 blessed
to be targeted
by a fling;


 pretense
has expense
float wheels

crushed two 
as they reached 
for connection
for that
"good-catch"

of glitter-bling
thrown-for-me thing;


parade 
stopped,

no chance for bands 
to dance,
sing

revelers to
fling
balls, beads, bags,
anything;

walked home
through dark city trees
time to move
beyond
spiritual make-believe
to where
is received
more than plastic
beads,
past
​a connection
sought 
in catching a toss,
​in puffed up dross,
found
rather in You
 around, in, above 
through 
a way of truth
intended
to reveal
Presence,
divine choreography;

purposeful, sweet, 
in a field
or on concrete,
at a parade
or on a deeply silent
New Orleans street.


​***

Picture
Contemplation

Go to temple
unveiled
at night
outer space
embrace light
revel in mystery
leave home

under
magic dome

of gargantuan stars
as sparks,
 planets as quarks;

Go to temple

gently
close your eyes
be still
dissolve
to inner 
space
revel in mystery
love's embrace 

unity
unveiled from within
where minuscule me
becomes infinity.


​***

.

Picture
Totalled

Car-casses
strewn
on flats
with puncture wounds
now marooned
by insurance companies,
city fees
soon to be
moved
heaped
as dry bones
on bleak street.

"Hello, this is Jackie
from triple A;
How are you today?"

the oppressor,
I mean assessor,
determined
repair costs exceed
the car's value,
as determined by "we,"

Momma Poppa God
sighs from on high,
"Repair them all:
repair Jackie,
the assessor,
the car,
the gun-wielding thief!"
so much pain
it takes to
shut down
belief
in restoration
yield hope

to crowned-king
obliteration;
​
Earth Mommas say
since back in the day,
"children, behave!
don't turn a good car
into rusted charred parts
don't crush
human hearts
to be 
unwilling to start
don't ground good
into dust,

totaled trust.


​***



Picture
Tocayo
(tocayo: someone sharing the same name)

Lazarus 
died

poolside
neglected
passed by
boil-ridden beggar
unable to cool 
to sooth 
wounds

in healing waters;
​

While at Abraham's side
liberated
love-coronated,
rich man in hell
cried 

"let me warn 
my brothers 
to be kind"
to which came
the reply
"they won't
change their minds
even if someone 
from the dead
were to rise."

His tocayo, too,
died
four days 
before Jesus
arrived
to cry

"Lazarus, come out!" 

bereaved sisters 
witness 
returned breath
joyous
surprise,

as did rabbis
who denied 
the miracle

to obliterate
the potential of the divine
to undermine
​the worldly acclaim
of their climb.


A boil-ridden beggar, 
a-brought-back-to-life brother
two Lazuri,
both to us cry,
one from heaven
one from Earth,

"Come out, rise!
Set your disbelief aside."



Picture
Serenity Prayer Alternative

God, I pray
to no longer
accept what

I cannot change
but 
through your
Power,
Love, and
Way of Life,
​change

what I cannot,
should not
accept;


let Mother Mary's 
"Let it be"
emPower we
to stand up,
speak up,
show up, 
shut up,
sit down,
silence today
words tomorrow
"wise as serpents
gentle as doves"
help me listen
help me love

help me do
all with you
fueled
​by your food,
our God of many names
all Power 
to save, 
go beyond blame;

Help us out of
serenity sedation
 "nothing I can do"
dead-end station
negation
of God's power 
to transform;
wake up, loves,
to the storm
my beautiful people,
the price is too high
overdosed on
"keep the head to the sky"
God with us asks 
"Do you love me?"
here's the task:
tend-feed
my lambs,
​my sheep"
walks-talks like a duck?
call it a duck
we, the Most High's construct, 
divinely made to 
give a "f**k".



"Lack of power, that WAS our dilemma." - (Big Book page 45)
"We had a new employer. Being all powerful, God provided what we needed if we kept close to God and performed God's work well."  (Big Book page 63)

"When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?" He said to him, "yes, Lord; you know that I love you." He said to him, "Feed my lambs." He said to him  a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" He said to him, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you." He said to him, "Tend my sheep." He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?" Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time, "Do you love me?" and he said to him, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you." Jesus s said to him, "Feed my sheep."  (John 21:15-17)



​***

Picture

​Lungs 

dreams 
of being able 
to breath 
under water;
though painless,
it occurs to me
I'm drowning;

quasi-awake
memory
of years gone by
when 
coughed,
out-cried
mama's fluids

​lungs inflate

intake,
first-breath oxygen 
gasp
after ten seconds
pass
in suspense
'tween
reliance
in-
dependence;


has been
a while

 too,
since booze
left me dry
surprised
thought life
without whisky, wine
would be one
of no lungs,
laughs
a plastic
​mini-vac
stuck, sucks
to fill a forever-empty sack;

​I was wrong;
rebirth's real,
not
a dream;
I breathe
under water
inspiration, respiration
sustained 
by a soul claimed

on high octane
righteous reliance 

for this woman 
to more than survive
- to thrive
with lungs
by Spirit ​inspired.


***




Picture
Tree Poem #1
fruitless trees
prompted

flower cultivation
to bring back 
bees' buzz;

they came
and after 
​pregnancy

twenty three
tiny
avocados
​peek

from sheaths;

who are my bees?
what buzzes,
​probes,
 
pollinates me?

Picture
Tree Poem #2
dead-looking 
myrtle
convinced me
never
will it be

pink-purple
bouquet-laden
sway-green lush;

she whispers
recriminations
of how my not-green thumb
assassination
sent her vital force

off course
sapped out
no sign of sprout
branches brittle dry
burnt buds; 

one, just one
breaks frees, 
brings 
forth
and here comes
the green;

disbelief 
once again 
rebuffed
by new life
burst of resurrection
doubt exposed
put your finger in the hole
blessed are those
who believe
yet do not see
but that's clearly not me;
I need to see leaves,
the risen bodies.



***

Picture

Above it All 

track
that ball
in out 
under over
feet 
stretch
to defend
net
determined
to keep
that three
from a score,

soars...

earlier
came by, 
lithe but
a walking sigh
"What's up?"
out it rushed
injustice
he-said-she-said
cousin malice
baby cried
she lied
said I did it
after a long day

"why
they took
my cell away
?"

a hug
momma-chit-chat love
up the street

we walked,
talked
an inside-the-storm
safe port

basketball court;

dance 
the ball
in out 
under over
feet 
stretch
legs
to meet
defense 
determined
to sink
that three
have

sweet victory;

Ahhh...

we ​stroll home
together alone;
"I feel kinda better"
I, too, am at peace.


​***

​

Picture
Father's Sun

stone head
foretells of them
thick lips
calm carved 
almond eyes
gene line
to father's 
ancestors

envision
pyramids
moved on water
stone by stone
from Africa
on ocean’s flow
known 
millennia before 
their seed was sown;

sage person
made 
by marriage
of cold and sun,
Gaul and African
Scot and Mayan
looks out
from throne -
leopard cloak, 
collar
of agave fronds,
head glows
in leaves-of-gold
crown 
leans to see
beloved serpent
wrapped round
and round
indigo gown;

as palm fronds
move 
in breeze
this person perceives  
a way
with wisdom heart
feather-light
forever set apart
from logic immersion

their conversion
restores
Spirit footprints
buried before
to live
deep within
close to Mayan,
close to African,
close to father's sun.

Picture
Pandemic at Passover
April 8-16, 2020
​
pan:
 all

demos: people

Pan-demos
no hoax
but one of clarity
a recognition
of commonality
bearing witness 
to a truth 
beyond the economy,
greater than money,
of vibrating
Supreme Reality,

shared humanity:
so neglected, 
forgotten

pinch me; I cry,
yet simply sigh 
when distant others
suffer,
 die;

shared divinity:
so obliterated
obfuscated;
a blemish?
rush to Sephora
yet never pause
to abhor a
hurt to Thee,
meaning We
collective beauty
manifested in these
approximately
7 point 5 billion bodies
expressing 
the creativity
of a G_d who seeks 
and always sought
anonymity,
obscurity, 
invisibility
to promote our unity,
our faith
not in sin
but in heaven within;

chose Moses
to speak,
chose Jesus
to die and rise,
chose me
to write this poem,
you, Holy Child,
to seek
and ​find
"your own;"

no politico
could muster 
no preacher could bluster
to conjure 
this We,
sheltered
for safety

as the demons,
the crowned ones,
Covid-nineteen,

pass over 
the people;

yet we
barely 
heed  

when Moses, 
state governors cry;

"stay inside" 
we forget

the Lamb's blood 
the unrisen bread;
so in their stead,
an extended sacrifice
must suffice

to screw on
the collective,
hard-wired
for true-love head
of one people
at one table
sacred heart
in-closure,
a pandemic passover.



​***



Picture


​Luna 

child's life infused
with wealth,
aristocracy

then sudden
wax
return to poverty;


jarring bolts
of parent
debility,
self-centered
volatility

jolts moon
out of orbit; 

mother,
sedated,
under a spell,
can't see the harm
the tidal pain-swell
to her own,
child
then compelled
to run wild;

moon-girl

becomes
comet
with tail
of gas and dust
boozes

shoots
away from sun
spins
into oblivion;

Mighty Hand
stretched
to catch
land
that red beauty,
fireball entity,
restore
her role,
identity
as beloved satellite
'tween Earth and Sun;


born anew,
years pass;
moon's 
a mama who

generates,
co-creates
home
of sensory rhythm
births
vibrant earth life,

with hands and heart;

warm gravity's pull
nurtures family;
sets her sight
on security, 
steady cycle 

of daily sanity;
struggles
to abide
outside forces,
meteors,
that collide
​with sanctuary;


and in creeps
ever so ​qu
ietly
a sneaky belief -

"it's up to me;"

sensitivity to the divine 
lets her see 
the cunning lie
, 
extract the false belief
via soul surgery;


Mighty Hand 
shifts
moon's

orientation
to the sun,

changes position,

from black new
to bright full;
lack of power
to solar reflector;

aligned anew,
her truth

guides those
who lose control
have willingness
to be transformed

from unleashed
comets,
cosmic snowballs 
of gas, rock, dust
to cyclical,
love-centric
steady
freed by the gravity
of Luna's Great Reality;




Picture


Family Unity

kitchen table
battlefield:
sits pair
of red-robed
judges 
jab

"guilty!"
verdicts;
gavels hit
wooden heads
to knock 
dead
other's values;

silence ensues
shhhhh
don't move
shhh
lest you, too
be subjected
to the proof
of your ignorance;
one step left 
goodbye father
one step right
goodbye partner;
tight rope 
stretches;
egg-shell-walker 
wife 
daughter 
heightened sense

navigates tense
intervals 'tween
pelts, stones
to fill plates
and sate;

back-boned 
woman
​walks the line

with spiritual spine,
by neither judge
disowned
and so,
maintains her home.




Picture


Three Modes of Silence

#1
gated hearts
​under cold
snow
thoughts, notes
reconstruct
days,
moments past,
perspective
from another side,
what we Hyde...

silence
that still resides
in this now
was there then, too,
an inescapable
ever-present truth
a hazy cloud by day
couldn't quite say
what
the relentless problem
was
but did it ever go away?

nanny maid fussed
sometimes screamed
took the train
back to Queens
cooked up cornbread,
collard greens
black eyed peas
culinary memories
calm
grandma's
massa-​beaten genes
migrated north
but lodged deep, unseen;

obese gardener
gleans

without detection
from girl 
who finds connection
in 
​attention,
a promise
unfulfilled
in dad's Catholic
talk
of resurrection
Radcliffe-mom's
intellect,
self-obsession;

weekday evenings,
house sighed
Scotch relaxed mind
day unfurled 
of sugar-cotton-birthed
financial world 
expressed
righteous cares;
he'd like to leave,
get away..
bourbon in the other chair
replied, "nay."

once, that woman
in the bourbon's chair
confessed the life
threadbare
but has no memory
of those words to me;
divine
restlessness
channelled effectively 

elsewhere;

this, a pensive

later-in-life
perspective,
 fearful still
to violate the code
established 
on restricted roads,
to negate the dictate
of Hyde within
​the private
​within the silent.



#2

a lifetime

to arrive 
at conclusion:
words,
an unnecessary
intrusion,
abused
tools of confusion
used 
to manipulate
perpetuate
status quo
structure of 
above below
in bed,
a factory
in school
rectory
few mean
what they say
futile
replay
gets approval
or shame

so mandate
SILENCE 
as the way;
play Miles
get a child to smile
cook,
make love

for a while
nothing to get
in the way
of pain, joy,
faith, 
disdain;
pray 
and trust
don't interrupt 
waves
of e-motion
not refuted
diluted
convoluted;
ride and find
a route to
what's
buried inside
maybe then, 
full cycle
a few words
might, 

possibly
to love testify.



Jean-Louis:
In Memory

Shhh...
I see 
a man
with glasses
grey-black 
curt

poofy eyebrows
a beard
bald

I see a smile
kindness
a heart moved
for people
not himself;
fussy cat
lets him pat;

I watch him
call
on time
bring food,
​music,

​remove shoes,
light a cigarette
laugh
lighten in the presence
of sweetness
joy
in shared we
confess silently
his insecurity;

Shhh...
​there...
hidden
in the light
of the Father
I'm in love
with the Father
and see
the Father 
in this man.


Jesus said: The images are revealed to people. 
The light within them is hidden in the image of the Father's light. 
He will be revealed. 
His image is hidden in his light.

The Gospel of Thomas
Saying #83 
​

Picture
Picture


Heed

Watch
slippery,
three-six,
lauded sneak

inject
permitted
read-mind

liquid
inside
chosen people;

use needles
​implants

to weasel
unwelcome
unknowns
into veins

from 'h' to 
COVID cure
for disease
the oh-so pure
say needs
to be tamed;

keep 
them away!
protect
brain waves,
blood flow

designed 
to connect
with what makes
sane,
not provide
corporate
news feed
to and from
body-embedded
currency

for implanted
needs;

feel
compelled
to participate?

can't-wait
urgency's
an old idea
​used to reign
over
mind-colonies
for capital gain:

new
competitive
​inside-you
territorial
imperative;


don't let 
fear, greed 
inject 
into THEE;
turn to 
the Supreme 

stay HOLY,
WHOLE
stay FREE.






,

Picture
Floral Body Art by Trisha Thompson Adams


​Verdict
ver: true
dict: say

await 
truth 
about me,
about us
to come from you
deep belief
it's your call
make myself 
the defendant
a-waiting 
the gavel to fall
you, the judge 
jury
over all;

the payoff 
for me?
don't have 
to nurture 
giant blossom
inside-wise
that heeds
whispers 
too discreet
to register
be seen
gently sensed
dispensed
from Within
since
divine obedience
at times
brings peace,
at others
may unleash
a torrent
ferment
of violent
back-pedal
an inner "no!"
"Won't let go!"
a shit-storm, 
of bedevilment 
moan;

the way
to break
free
of madness
lest 
it bruise tenderness
or take seed?
time...
breathe...
community
pause, pray
wait,
release 
false beliefs;
can't hurry love
of another
or God;
depth 

develops
slowly
.
.
.
slowly;


for my body, 
heart, 
mind
to trust anew
the evidence 
must be gathered,
reviewed:
what do I see
I don't want to see?
what do I sense
I don't want to heed?
digest 
the verdict
over time:

as it leans 
towards yes,
softens,
makes peace
welcomes
warms
opens, beats. heats;

as it leans 
towards no
stiffens
defends, pushes
closes
cools 
wants to leave, flee:

friend translates
intimacy
 as "into-we-see;"
our
Sacred Body 
the ultimate jury.





Picture

Apocalypto

angry god
needs 
satiation
propitiation
so Aztecs

rip hearts
roll heads 
down stair-lined 
pyramids
"Christians"

skin-flay
hang, burn
innocence,
Sons of Men
from a cross
or Poplar tree;
 

the same
antagonist,
religious authorities,
dictate, demand
OTHER be 
sacrificed
to a god 
with quellable
temper tantrums 
a god
with objectives

swayed
persuaded
by sacrifice,
sneaky ego's
greatest device;

"God is LOVE" 
Allah 
Great Spirit 
Adonay  
ONE

Most High 
El Shadday
LORD, Elohim
Yahweh...

god's NOT love?
sacrifice
is imminent
be it on a cross,
a pyramid,
in a noose

at Krakow-Plaszow,
a Turkish road
absorbing
Armenian groans,
within Angola's stones;
ignore-ance,
a key ingredient,
precedes 
those twisted
culminating
constructions,
neutral onlookers,
blind sheep,

led by human powers
controlling beliefs;

Jaguar Paw,
hunter,
spun 180,

now's the hunted;
but revolved,
evolved
once more

blackened 
by quick sand's
muddy earth

to assume
sacred identity
of the predator

the individual alone, 
the victor
solitary inheritor
of sanctity;

his post-horror
holy family
turns away
from cross at the shore
chooses
new beginning
that failed
before -
so probably ​will die,
as predicted,

when fear of the other's
the only guide,
when separated
 from a nurturing tribe;


Apocalypto,
Mel Gibson's
poignant cry

"Walk in unity!
Pay attention
to me:
flee from phonies 
who preach
'peace, peace
when there is no peace'
heed warnings,
prophets, 
be they children
with disease,
ravaged souls,
dreams;
most of all my beloved people,
be wary
of religious ​authorities!" 

"For from the least tot he greatest of them,
everyone is greedy for gain;
and from prophet to priest
​everyone deals falsely.
They have healed the wound of my people lightly
saying, "Peace, peace," 
when there is no peace." 

Jeremiah 6:13-14




Picture

​Under Chiffon:
In Loving Memory


takes grandmothers
to see sometimes
(mamas
buried 
in paradigms)
to shed
 philosophies;
en-gendered
by male
of the species?
or was it myriad 
beauty,
mothering
technologies

that took feminine,
hemmed her in
obliterated
round mama 

moon-cycle
earth goddess,
whose heart
of flesh,
and body
bleeds

without death,
intuitive,
sublimely aligned,
not primitive; 

whatever
the distancing
factors may be,

moving further 
 from Her,
​
Thee,
from Mary Magdalene, 

from embrace,
needed interlace
of energies 
to come together
as One
not some

from-behind
selfishness for cows,
or investment realty;
allow your good
see-MEN
your dance-with 
rhythm
to be-with-in
women;

Grandma feels
the fakes

(midst
white-carpet cocktails)
and senses
a man with heart

saw her see,
feel his authenticity
as others looked down:
"who's he?"
"a nobody,"
"new curiosity."

Grandma watched
two children's hearts
sewn of unity
at loooooong
dining table
make sense of
non-sense 
"no elbows!" 
child's oops-face
by queen seen
even as grand-she
rotated
 feather-sllppered foot

ever so slightly
to press
sub-shag
buzzer
to disappear
emptied plates
"no stacking" 
still hear her say;
and yet...
underneath 
Aqua Net
duck-backed do
breathed ancient
breast-fed-feeder 
dealer
of bridge and wild cards
​precisely,
from under
chiffon sleeves.




Picture
spoken_word_for_my_rowdy_beauties.mp3
File Size: 5793 kb
File Type: mp3
Download File

Rowdy Beauties

I am a rowdy beauty,
a prisoner
who picks up
sage's keys
to seek release;

I shake my fist
at the Council of Nicaea,
​refuse
its heretic-making creed
stifling
of multiple Christianities
sacred diversity of belief;

I question an inerrant Bible,
narratives
that silence
the female
Gospels named
Matthew, Mark, Luke, John
...
not Jobab? Heth?
Ahaziah? Medan?


I leave churches
plastering fake news
 of white Jesus, 
white disciples,

that instill
legalistic rules
spoon baby-food truth
minimize Power-full
Good News
of Spiritual Rebirth; 


I see Eve, Adam
Sara, Abram, 
as brilliant black/brown,
sassy, 
long-suffering,
live-wire-agile 
plugged-into-God
human beings; 

see Jesus and Mary Mag
as One
as lovers,
children of love-makers,
resurrection partners
at the cross, 
at the tomb;


I wish I could
blast-blitz-promote
an "image" of God
impossible
to capture
except
just maybe
though energy,
quarks in e-motion
that rev 
when giving bloody birth 
embracing the babe,
smelling
curry,

sculpting clay,
dance-
hearing
tubas, drums,
grieving
at goodbyes,

goose-bump
​connecting

in one-on-one talks,
sacred sex,
​deep alone prayer times,
walks,
presence at last breaths...
LOVING!

I am grateful to be
a rowdy prisoner
​in good company,
feel graced, humbled
​to even see the keys,
pick them up,
put them in locks,
get free
each time an old idea,
hidden bond,
unnecessary rule
is found, unleashed
in unity with you
other rowdy beauties.


"Impose no law other than that which I have witnessed. 
Do not add more laws to those given in the Torah
​last you become bound by them.
Having said all this, he departed."

​Jesus, as quoted in the Gospel of Mary Magdalene page 9



***

Picture
​Shorefishing

we, at the coastland,
watch 
agitated waters
in sanded toes
skin wind-pressed
to bone

mist hits
eye lids

listen from here
tumultuous roar
heard

without fear;

drenched
approach
in storm-tossed
boats
cresting peaks
finally driven
to seek

beyond reason;

some dive,
others hold on
till craft's gone,
splintered
so-loud sound
as tumbled
nears ground,
mind rocks
rattling
​round and round and round;

 face the shore
if the stormy sea 

can't be
reality 
anymore;

approach friends!

need a smoke?
come inside,
get dry,
tea? coffee?
take cream?

sit, breath,
speak (or not) freely
of whence you came;
​

rewaken us
from sure-of-land-ness

tell of days,
longer nights

amoral blight;
we need to hear,
so release
tales of yonder 

insane cycle
remorse-resolve-fail;

let it flow,
let go,
defuse the gale.

draw near;
watch
"we" community's
hand of One

gradually
grow clear, 
heal

as Truth excavates

broad landscape
opens gate
of lived hell 
to escape
from under shells
​renewed to find
shore fishing
perches,

maybe coastland homes
with similar souls
where all's well;
continue
there to welcome,
let them speak, 
​to tell
and in unity,
​watch the sea.


"Listen to me in silence, 
O coastlands:
let the people renew their strength;
let them approach, then let them speak;
let us together draw near for judgment."
Isaiah 41:1



Picture
 Return

Imagine...
close your eyes
take a ride 
millions millions
time flight
back to
delight...

when
essence
composed
decomposed
in easy interflow;
Word souls,
images,
notes,
play, move,
worship, 

no attachment 
to gold,
just angels
without material goals;


who, over time,
start to 
choose 
composition,
more and more,
incarnation
to engage sensation,
wind in hair,
taste of almond,
caress of skin,
​adrenaline,
orgasm, 
smell of mint, rain
exquisite pain;

and each release 
from image to body,
entails
brief
then more
sustained
forgetting
of initial state
before shift,
transmutation
twixt
image and bones
birth and true home
which grows
over time so
.
.
.
primary
known
is elusive,
peeking out
at moments
to attest,
yet 
a needle
in a forest;
 
those 
who move
deftly between, 
steadily
become unique,
worshipped,
medicine women, men, 
sages, prophets
"more than human;"

One of these,
Melchizedek,

King of God's City
without genealogy,
appears
blesses Abram 
with bread and wine;
​
later,
returns again
to threaten
Herod, 
Pharisees,
call out hypocrisy,
heal,
calm the sea,
the King Priest 
this time fully seen
bloodied dead,
then living
by a crowd of witness
locked in disbelief
ecstatic in relief;
​momentarily
restored to sanity,
salvation, liberty;

so hard to see
we are
the same Free
the same
priest-king-queen,
that touched
Abram to give 
one tenth of all 
spontaneously 
from heart and soul
no attachment,
​let it go
native peoples
always knew
and still this Reality know;


So now we
seek
there from here; 
Mary Magdalene's
gospel
 loud on the scene
to take us back,
so far to come,
reminders everywhere
of our TRUE image
.
.
.
​get quiet, 
imagine
.
.
.

close your eyes
take a ride 
millions millions
time flight
back
to 
delight
to angel essence, 
 "I am's"
quintessence.



Jesus said, "The old man will not hesitate to ask a seven-day-old baby
about the place of life,
and he will live."

Gospel of Thomas, Saying 4



***

Picture
Picture

Burned

2:40am
he came
gas can in hand
doused truck
shook over car
match-lit
thrown 
flames explode
arm on fire
live oak's ivy
smokes
long after hose
closed,
street left alone. 

(wanted time off,
boss said no)

6:45pm
green-eyed lean

brown man
sidewalk lay
hottest day
next door to
fried chicken place
no-shade 
legs straight
ankles turn in
torso twist
grape
​Big Shot
pinpoint pupils
pinned
to June heat
pandemic street
"can you give me a dollar?"
as I walked by
frightened this time -
not sure why
maybe it was 
those green green eyes.

burned,
buried men...
far far away;
children gather round
the car-carcasses
in disbelief
weep
for memories
of grandma's back seat
heading to church,
to the grocery
dad at the wheel
to and fro with family
at new baby
​birthday,
cool air conditioning
cranking. 

3:30pm
two days later
dad's on a borrowed bike
bags in both hands
left and right;
sent some blue crabs
grandma's way
"heat the stove;"

wept hard but
shows up;
burned car, truck
shells remain
but cooking's underway
Gramma's tired,
so so tired,
but cooks those blues anyway.


​

Picture

​Presence

I am a widow
walking
with what once was
our abler soul
the entity
created by you and me
our love,
a three
so real to me
now you are
no more;
yet
through us
something new is
that formed
over time
from our embrace
intertwined
palpable
yet
without a trace. 


​"As long as both partners are alive in this physical world,
the abler soul remains hidden within as that invisible "third term."
But when both - or even more powerfully when one of the partners dies,
it emerges forcefully from the form that has veiled it
and takes palpable shape as a body.
The hidden dynamism of their love now reveals itself as a substantiality
- still an energy field, yes,
but an energy field so charged with presence
that its physical existence is unmistakable."
- Cynthia Bourgeault "Mary Magdalene"



Husband

Married
in Step Three
decided on
a new "we"
to lead 
this child of wrath
in the aftermath
of her self-inflicted
violence;​
experience 
now bears witness
to what God
can do
when I merge
with principles
before unheard
unheeded
for nerds,
received a gift
undeserved;

that first
wedding vow
allowed 
Freddy
to come through
a different door
than men had entered 
my life before 
and we, though inclined to run,
were given Power
to keep our faces
to the sun
recognized our love's need
for protection
from the inner-outer
Destroyer
that tears apart
obliterates heart
and from a place 
of we-need-Thee
daily humility
married
till death did us part;
(​we wanted him to stay
but it wasn't for us to say-

broken, broken hearts);

in flight,
​alone once more

I 
opened
​to Isaiah 54
​without lover, friend,
the prophet
​sent me back
 to the knitter
without end
my Maker,
first husband.


​
"God, I offer myself to Thee to build with me and do with me as Thou wilt,
relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do thy will;
take away my difficulties that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help
of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of Life. 
May I do Thy will always."

Step 3 Prayer Big Book page 63

"For you formed my inward parts;
You knitted me together in my mother's womb."

Psalm 139:13

"Fear not, for you will not be ashamed;
be not confounded, for you will not be disgraced;
for you will forget the shame of your youth, 
and the reproach of your widowhood you will remember no more.
For your Maker is your husband,
the LORD of hosts is his name...
the God of the whole earth he is called."

Isaiah 54:4-5




Picture

Masks


Devil must be
at work here
to instill fear
render us  
germ-phobic
alone,
locked down
at home;
​
separation
bore
obliteration
of connection
no choir
worship
of our God's 
creation 
of beings
made
for embrace,
to share space,
intimacy,
community
One Body;
made
to sing,
break bread
pass platters
sharing about what does
and does not matter;

Divider's 

intrusive
stretch
extends,
all oppressed
from CEOs 
to those
in ratatat shacks,
shared humanity
we don't usually see
to this degree;
how did the Destroyer
market
this new reality?
"It's for your security,"
"Deaths will rise,
you'll see!"
"Your neighbor is
​your enemy!"

Let love guide us
OUT
let love return our collective 
CLOUT
JOYOUS SHOUT:
not lose
our God-given 
liberty to choose
to be with you,
schmooze,
share stews, 
whether vegan or meat
or beefs
expressed free,
​no say-it-just-right
heat;
envision
evenings
some gentle,
sexy,
​some rowdy 
dancing,
scheming 
of ways to help our 
villainous society
grow in justice,
equity?
play rummy?
read ​poetry?
creativity -
finding ways
to be.

Eleanor Rigby
kept her face 
at door's side,
tragic
need to hide
we don't have to repeat
as separations teach 
the value of
each
smile, word,
touch, 
each person we meet.

​"Behold; how good and pleasant it is
when we dwell in unity!
​It is like the precious oil on the head,
running down on the beard,
on the beard of Aaron,
running down on the collar of his robes!
It is like the dew of Hermon 
which falls on the mountains of Zion!
For there the LORD has commanded the blessing, 
life forevermore." 

Psalm 32 of David



Picture

"he will come to us as the showers,
as the spring rains that water the earth,"

Hosea 6:1,3


Come to Us

walking
somewhat aware

storm clouds
gather
but rather 
than catch a ride
need out-fly

hope 
to let go
be drenched
through porous skin
to bone
let wind blow
Spirit within;

puddle stompin'

top o' lungs
singin':

live (stomp)!
love (stomp)!
life (stomp)!

storm 
shatters 
too tight
soul-web
woven

by patience,
compassion
undivided attention
to lost sheep

who seek
a way out of bleak;

need whizzing
air

to cut through
this pair
of radical
re-birthed hearts

tapped to care;


storm clouds gather
but rather 
than catch a ride
need out-fly
eradication
of entangled 
misses and hits
and just for a bit
be fully
in it
into it
with you
drenched

through, 
revived by the wild;
​
thank you 
brother
thank you

God
as we laugh 
uncover

discover 
our separate
but together
surrender

to soaked.


"Come, let us return to the LORD:
for he has torn us,
that he may heal us:
he has struck us down,
and he will bind us up...
Let us know;
let us press on to know the LORD;
his going out is sure as the dawn;
"he will come to us as the showers,
as the spring rains that water the earth,"

Hosea 6:1,3



Picture
Bondage of Self

You do you 
and I stew;
NOT personal
yet pierced
through to bone
heart to stone
love's GONE,
a moan
Lordy, I need your 
mighty might
not to shower this bitch 
with obscenities
for not respecting ME 
though clearly 
see her actions
are simply
modus operandi
a way of getting by
but in my head
seeing red
not intellectually, 
OF COURSE I KNOW BETTER
but emotionally
that's where truth cries
if I'm cool
why's rage stirring 
up from inside?
Lord God,
set me free
of antennae
set on high

to detect missteps she makes
while flippant 'bout
my own mistakes...
can I be a human being
much less a channel of peace
through gritted teeth
or when ego
keeps score
tallies cons, fors
to see who's more
or less inhumane,
to blame?
can't take a pill
or a pull of whiskey
those doors closed
permanently
Lord,
heal me,

I cry out to THEE!
soften this heart
to see the potholes
in human souls
with love
innocent as dove
wise as snake,
awake 
not hypnotized
by lies
​that otherize,
minimize
our shared unity
ONE
HOLY,
messy, ever-healing
​BODY.


"This was our course: First, we realized the people who harmed us were spiritually sick.
Though we did not like their symptoms, and the way they disturbed us, they, like ourselves, were sick too ."

Big Book page 66

"Why do you see the speck that is in your sister's eye,
but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?
Or how can you say to your sister,
'Let me take the speck out of your eye,
when there is the log in your own eye?'
You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye,
and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your sister's eye."

Jesus, as quoted by Matthew 7:3-5

"Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves,
so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves."

Jesus, as quoted by Matthew 10:16


***
​


Picture


​Am I the only one who knows how to fly?

laughing over
​potted ficus trees

dad at desk
didn't look up
sister on sofa
kept reading
swooshing along red brick 
interior walls 
I flew 
feet following
hair flowing;
started as I sat
in a chair
that turned out 
not to be there
I was floating
and tested
the veracity; 

yes!
gravity defied

started to glide 
and then
next thing I knew
I was on my side
in full flight,
okay that no one noticed,
that no one said, "wow,"
or asked me about
what it was like
or "show me how?"
just full of glee
joy in being me
I asked, 
"am I the only one who knows how to fly?"
​

when I woke
from that deep sleep 
for the very first time
since my heart began
to beat

I had a deep affection
that I will never forget
the girl that wanted 
dad to bet
she'd be a success
that needed to sing
like Aretha Franklin
one who
was always too much
and people said,
"You have to love yourself" 
so figured I did:
bought myself shoes
and went back to school
but that day
I loved me
the one who 
flies free.


***


​

Picture

Sons of God

motor oil hands

Calvin's
cruising
in Saints forty-two
"It's my birthday"
"that was last week"
"no, that was my daughter's"
"you said it was yours"

we get along
but he can't 
remember
my name

an okay pawn
in his milk-anyone game

to pick up a few
for a chicken three-piece
or thin cigars
(wrappers shed
near and far)

fixes cars
with mechanic Mike
who repairs broke folks'
wheels
that always fail
since low pays
generally entail
a tin can
that can't
take random holes
out of control
of sunken streets,

Calvin's inner tube
bi-weekly flat

further testimony to that;


After dark,
sweating brows knock
"baby's meds, pharmacy;
I'm your neighbor on Abadie."
Will sells his shoes
where Eddie called with blues
cuz mama's water bill's due;
New Year's Eve 
Kevin blasted
automatic weaponry
maybe to say, 
​"go back to L.A."
we're friendly now
but to forget's
a mistake I don't make
wise to remember
who's filled with hate;


Ronald's hidden, 
cringes when seen,
in June had a stroke
no longer could
solo cope 
seeks out safe nooks 
where to sleep,
store stuff
"not there, over here"
and a powder keg became clear 
about details,
patience was frail;
later showed up
with another cart filled up;
I prayed; we spoke 
"I know its wrong but I don't
want to help you."
He's on the front stoop
waiting on his next move,
he said, "thank you, hear?"
And that's when I felt the tears;


barking loud and clear; 
hear Thurman's hounds ​
​of hate, deception, fear
present now from yesteryear;

the city's past is dark and deep
these men have no promises to keep
just miles to go before they sleep,
miles to go before they sleep.


​

"What, then, is the word of the religion of Jesus to those who stand with their backs against the wall?
There must be the clearest possible understanding of the anatomy of the issues facing them.
They must recognize fear, deception, hatred, each for what it is.
Once having done this, they must learn how to destroy these or render themselves immune to their domination.
In so great an undertaking it will become increasingly clear that the contradictions of life are not ultimate.
The disinherited will know for themselves that there is a Spirit at work in life and in the hearts of men
which is committed to overcoming the world.
It is universal, knowing no age, no race, no culture, and no condition of men.
For the privileged and underprivileged alike, if the individual puts at the disposal of the Spirit the needful dedication and discipline,
​he can live effectively in the chaos of the present the high destiny of a son of God."

Howard Thurman "Jesus and the Disinherited" pgs, 98-99


***



Picture
​Calmed and Quieted

child at breast 
heals us all
sheds our "look at me"
worldly mechanisms
as a woman's body proceeds
naturally
to nourish, channel
goodness into bones,
brain, inner domain;

when coming in
a most magical
up-the-back 

tingling
response to need
the body heeds
the child;
​

God smiled
to see

mother and babe
well weaned
from intimate enclave

with inner peace
from gradual release
or at a moment 
when faith is strong
senses
mama will never be gone;
Love's deep down within
a whole life long.


"But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me."

Psalm 131:1-2

We found the Great Reality deep down within us.
Big Book page 55

God is love.
1 John 6:6




***


Picture


The Least of These

Sleeps
​with broken down
boxes

under bright 
turquoise
blanket
brown boot feet 
stick up
white wooly hair,
deep dark
earth-furrowed face
to the sky, 
as when a child;

Is it your will, Lord
to assert
"my porch"
that belongs to You?

when it's time
to leave 
you'll grace me
to ask him
politely;
he senses space,
 apartment vacancy
​knows it's free;

my peace
blocked only
by delusion
that he'll move in
to that door
forevermore,
groundless fear;
I have all
the "power" here
God enlarge my heart
to let him be
for this now
though my neighbor scowls
when popping out
to receive
whisky-wine delivery;
ease 
my inner-nag 
who rags,
"isn't this the same issue
you've had with 
another "him"
who got the
wrong impression
that kindness
meant to move in?"
at early morn
went out 

to open shutters
as blue light 
shone through oaks
shotgun roofs;
my under-blanket brother
gone,
vanished
some time before dawn.


"And the King will answer them,
'Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these 
brothers,
​you did it to me.'"

Matthew 25:40


***


​

Picture
Sowing Space

welcome!
yes, you,

to our abler soul 
who knows
more than we
and
led us here
to grow
in this garden
of live oaks
holy
fountains of life
border road
entangled limbs
overhead
electric charged
filaments
protect 
1603 
from over-visibility;
enter to share,
share to enter
the larger entity 
created by "we"
a body
of shared humanity
on a path
stead fast
steps release
us to pass
through our days
sharing
to reveal
as we journey
as we heal

sober and clean;

at times 
seeds fall
on disabled ears,
can't hear,
or on rocky soil
where roots 
without depth
instantly forget;
at other times
growth's sustained
but chained
choked, claimed 
weeds,
money, prestige,
better "spirituality..."

yet many remain
to claim 
their identity 
and blossom 
sage, rosemary,
honesty, humility,
faith, integrity,
as Sowers
planting:
sponsoring, giving,
sharing good news 
of freedom 
from hopeless 
self-centeredness
into unity,
service, recovery;
here, you're invited
to step from desperation
​into new space,
​inner Grace
into Thee
whatever your concept

of "Thee" may be.

A Parable 
"That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. 
And great crowds gathered about him, 
​so that he got into a boat and sat down.
And the whole crowd stood on the beach.
 
And he told them many things in parables, saying: 
“A sower went out to sow.
 
And as he sowed, some seeds fell along the path,
and the birds came and devoured them.
 
Other seeds fell on rocky ground,
where they did not have much soil,
and immediately they sprang up,
since they had no depth of soil,
 
but when the sun rose they were scorched.
And since they had no root, they withered away.

 Other seeds fell among thorns,
and the thorns grew up and choked them.

Other seeds fell on good soil and produced grain,
some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.
 
He who has ears, let him hear.”...
Matthew 13:1-9



***


​

Picture

​​​Sofa Moment

shimmer rain arrives
old cat's breath too much to bear
pierced heart woman sees


​***

Picture


​Songbird

the trees said "thank you" 
yesterday
after I soul-sang 
"you know my name"
to no one 
in deep woods;
a sense of connection 

caught my attention;

did voice 

raise energy
into presence,
their essence?
"no," said an old friend,
their message was,
""we are glad you are here"
and shared truth
that somehow
​I'd been spooked

by the woods
not understood
their sentience,
​secrets,

 need for community
their desire to speak with me;

many years ago,
I locked up shop
to walk home;
already dark,
L. A. trees 
were pure energy
unbearably alive
electrically charged;
humbled, I froze
til the Power
broke
tragically
by an uncontrolled
inner drive
to shut it down
return to "normal" ground;

years later
in New Orleans
after a heart-burst
sacred talk
oaks 
went into expansion
fourth dimension
magic
living fabric
of elongating
ivied limbs
intertwining,
trunks spiraling
twisting in present time;

yesterday
a cathedral of love
transmuted 
transported,
reached 
a caged songbird
maybe finally
​getting free

of whatever spooked
this bold
​soul-singer

from hearing trees.


***

Picture


​St. Francis 

eight feet

of black,
Saint Francis
prays
under Spanish moss 
canopy;
open-to-birds
arms embrace
leafy stage
face
clay road
bordered
by ancient oaks
leading
to ruins
of oyster shell 
walls, windows,
the remains
of plantation's
stables
kitchen,
owner's plush home,
slave abodes...

six centuries
before
cotton kings
reigned,
Francis' father
sold silk
to French society;
dad raged
at son's choice
of poverty,
inner voice 
over paternal authority,
and tried,
frequently,
to beat
humility
out of his progeny
who fled
to escape
persist on a path
to his destiny
to "seek to understand."

this statue stands
on a gated
island;
embedded

round ruins'
 a new creation
of gentle mowed flats,
curves,
gradations,
sand traps,
greens unfurl
for eighteen
fair ways
where the pastel-capped
practice resistance
to temptation
to divert, distract
from the goal,
a tiny flagged hole
beckoning
masters
to sink
white balls
in fewest shots,
winner takes all;
"seek to console,
rather than be consoled..."

tabby walls stand,
remembrances 
of prior inhumanity
to fellow man
those deemed
three fifths human
with full hearts,
minds
gathered the white bolls
of yesteryear 
to fuel finance;
a stone's throw away
stands today
lunch room,
patios, fancy baths,
leather arm chairs
for cocktails;
whites
pay to play
and partake
in the game
while blacks,
beloved by all, 
serve in the kitchen
in linen napkin
dining hall;
"seek to love 
rather than to be loved;"

black Francis
came to be 
in nineteen seventy
as a father
grieved;
his beloved child
fell
lost her horse
to never show, tell
or breathe again;
did this stricken man
suspect
ghosts of harvests past
had reaped from him
at last
to hoe his heart
that he might feel
part of pain
sustained 
by those millions stolen
​from homes
kidnapped,
​called 
to tend, maintain 
white cotton
or golf balls?


Prayer of St. Francis

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me bring love.
Where there is offence, let me bring pardon.
Where there is discord, let me bring union.
Where there is error, let me bring truth.
Where there is doubt, let me bring faith.
Where there is despair, let me bring hope.
Where there is darkness, let me bring your light.
Where there is sadness, let me bring joy.
O Master, let me not seek as much
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love,
for it is in giving that one receives,
it is in self-forgetting that one finds,
it is in pardoning that one is pardoned,
it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life."




​

Picture
***


​

Picture
Photo taken at The Peace and Justice Memorial in Montgomery Alabama
 Commandment 3

six foot six father
cussed and fussed,

"Gee-sus!"
when he
smacked
that lofty head;


heard at church 
"don't take 
the LORD's
name in vain" 
"did dad break
commandment
three
ranked ahead
of murder, adultery?
Mama told me
'sticks and stones'
so God should
be big enough
to take a hit without 
returning a big fat lip..."

Montgomery,
where once
Alabamu
indigenous thrived, 
before the genocide,

"cradle
of confederacy"
rock-a-bye wicked babe
till something
burst on buses,
crossed a Selma bridge;
rocked bye bye
one tiny but bold
step at a time

to nasty old
Jimmy Crow's hold;

in memory,
on a ridge
one coffin
per county
documents deaths
"James Walker"
"Sam Bailey;"
​"Fred Johnson"
more than four thousand
four hundred

"names"
engraved
in burnt sienna metal,
suspended coffins

not Nausey, age 7,
Quingee, age 28,
​Dungo, age 56

denominations fixed
by owner men;
their sacred
"hallowed be thy" 
drowned
in passage
over Atlantic, 
stolen people
with names
kept in the heart
of the Almighty,
essential elements 
written
in the book of life,

immutable
eternal
One with 
"the name above all names;"
money grubbers took
 in vain
and sin-fouled
themselves

rather than
liberate
what's behind
DNA
that survives and ultimately
thrives
"Yahweh"
"Allah"
"Maker"
"Creator"
unfathomable
irrefutable,
changeless
but ever-changing,
essence within
but un-contained;

is this the "name"
of "hallowed be thy?"
beloveds, 
let's claim  
our shared sacredness
and thereby,
never take the Lord's name
in vain.


"Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy  God in vain."
Exodus 20:7

"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name."
Matthew 6:9


***



Picture

​For Late Night Bingers

leave
the emptiness 
of day's end
alone
breathe gently 
into 
its hazy
invitation
to self-harm,
barely visible
under
threadbare
justifications
to
fill
.
.
.
in
.
.
.
out
.
.
.

listen to the child's
breath
(your own);
.
.
.
in
.
.
.
out
.
.
.
pray softly
or 
cry out
​or
talk to her
stuck
"I-don't-give-a-fuck"
attitude;
embrace
good-mama style,
whisper love 
no matter how
she flees,
disappears
til
fear
shifts
or
drifts
into some kind
of calm;
.
.
.
Creator God,
you are our refuge, 
a shelter
of stillness

wherein
to dwell,

unlearn
a sense
of
 empty
as bad, lonely,
broken;

judge not
​the guitar 
after a gig
leaning at wall,
table 
post-dinner
cleared, 
wiped down;
a silent Zoom room,
.
.
.
a virgin's womb,
.
.
​.
an empty tomb;
.
.
.

leave the sacred 
emptiness
alone

and watch
what happens.


​***



Picture

And the Church Said

Faith

Her son
stood
party-happy
punch-in-hand
passing car pumped
volley into
brain matter
splattered
college proud
to wheelchair bound,
from verbal
to mute;

mama went
from proud glow
to nurse role;
and the church said, 
"Be grateful
he's alive!"

and she summoned
love
from deep inside,

bore witness
to faith in calamity,
​forgiveness,
God's presence 
in adversity,
led the charge
opposing gun violence,

spoke to power
with heart;
and the church praised,
worshipped, 
and said,

"see the testimony of this life,
what blessings

have come from strife!" 
and mama arose
and fiercely whispered,
two inches
from the pastor's nose, 
"Fuck you."




Deliver us From

from what?
"evil" 

church, say it out loud
"evil" 

name it LOUD
"evil" ​

its greatest weapon
is to go unnamed
be denied
allowed to hide
slide 
between us
undermine love 
exacerbate hate
ever present
within skin 
throughout our nation,
home,
celestial dome;
drives 
fittest to survive
baptizes
lies

thrives
on division
creates schisms;
the battle's
one

I, we, can not
win;

so name the slippery serpent 
the cunning, baffling, 
man-woman-child 
enslaver
depraver

who CAN be named
and

pray from your soul
to the LORD 
for the Holy Spirit 

to heal and restore,
win the war
and
"go and sin no more."


​​

Picture
Fill Up at Valero

early morning 
learned
scripture by heart

- but forgot it -
so when filling up
re-construct,
re-member
lines, words, to sustain 
through the day;

on auto-pilot swiped to pay,
chose grade, 

lifted grimy nozzle
thinking about how Alabama's
fancy spanky handles
have fuel-shield pads

not Louisiana,
not New Orleans...

and went back to scripture before
that commentary bore
into my brain

"The Lord bless you and keep you..."
pump in,
gas flowin';

felt a breeze,
​ lift my chin,

"The Lord make his face to shine upon you,"
and that very second the sun came
from behind a cloud, 
"and be gracious to you;"
gas flowed
eyes closed,

relaxed, red luminous lids
"The Lord lift his countenance upon you
and give you peace." 
and our sun shone warm-hot into my face
peace like joy-soul-honey flowed, 
.
.
.

handle clicked, pump hung,
 filled up.


"The LORD bless you and keep you:
the LORD make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the LORD lift his countenance upon you and give you peace," 

​Numbers 6:24-26




***

Saturday Afternoon

New Orleans:
moved here
since 3 years
not to imbibe
or find second lines
eat fried food, 
come unglued,
renovate, agitate,
or save the state;
immigrated
from the city of angels
inner compelled
to be near my child
but couldn't catch her
as she fell
into hell;

people are good
in my neighborhood,
though I dilute
its identity,
another outsider
unwitting gentrifier,
now sitting in City Park

sun warmed,
watching what goes:
wedding white chairs
in alcove
long corn rows,
pedicured toes,

Cafe buzz,
beignet bags, 
powder sugar dust,
 soft gust,
tussles 
fedora man,

stone bridge spans
duck's water way,
Spanish moss sways;

masks come down
so coffee, cokes
can quench,
texted a friend
I'd like to see 
whether she 
is ready to shed 
the fear of Covid;
​cell call 

with sister i n law
back in L.A.
spoke of babes
here, on the way
retirement day;
​

love this perch 
a warm ledge
where I  acknowledge
wafts of loneliness
can't be self-will shed
as rings exchange
Anita sings
"you bring me joy,"
witnessing their moment
missing you
wondering who, 
if anyone,
might be brought
into view; 
met with a friend
next morning
who's feeling it, too,
Meanwhile Lord,
and forever more,
it's me and you
Saturday afternoons. 


​***




Picture
Election Day Haiku
​
Voted 6am
Long line of silent purpose;
Holiness is here.




***


​Ronald

snores
at the other door
of "my" porch


smokes
hoodied low
black plastic
 crate pillow


scrapes
butts to leave

charred stripe streaks

shuns 
eyes, energy, 
visibility

limps
to cokes, coffee
at dawn, 5 thirty 


holds
takeout 
styrofoam
food to go


rolls
trash to curb
Tuesdays, Fridays, 

(his way to pay)
removes
shoes
to snooze
most of the day
says, "Thank you;"

offers
soda to me
from Tastee

they treat him fine
with donuts,
are kind
hence a long line;
know in their bones
what smote
this aged black man;
know he loved
hoped,

has history;
unseen family see
he's clean:
​white socks, bleached T's.


recently, I asked him 
to leave
when needing to rent
sixteen oh three,
his temporary dormitory;

stings
to be a white woman
with money
no matter what affection
connection
seemed to have been,
will do what's 
right for me;

but he 
never expected
differently;
moved on
to the next stage
of his journey. 
​


***



Picture
Lessons from a Crutch

Leans 
against wall
on call
waits to be used 
not confused: 
still, silent, 
a master of how
to remain sane
as prior lame
strengthen, regain
autonomy
freedom to be;
a crutch doesn't cry, 
sigh, or wish 
otherwise,
doesn't writhe,
criticize itself
when left behind,
wave its hand
to volunteer, 
have fear,

doesn't get tense,
go on the defense
bemoan its
obsolescence!


***



Picture


​Coffee Addict

swollen ankes
kidney pain
racing mind
body ache
hands shake
violently
can't type 
or swipe
or use keys!
what does it take
to forsake 
this brew?
prayed for it 
to be removed;
and
.
.
.
was cut lose!
been a few months
feel cool 
but seek
that bounce,
lovely buzz;
"just a sip" 
because
"​I can handle it" 

which
led to larger hit;

yesterday's dose
not enough
so off
I go

at first it's slow
then

 "fuck it"
and let go!


***


Picture
Unkind Inventories

Me! Me!

What's the least I can do
and still get through?

What's the most I can take
and claim a big stake?

What's the hardest I can suck
and not be called out?

What's the dimmest I can shine
and not snuff out?


+

Spiritual Maintenance

come to get 
though constructed to give

want to remember
but mind's a sieve.

pick up that broom 
and sweep the floor

move your feet
open the damn door!

*

Trusted Servants

Spiritual life gave an identity;
​"I'm somebody!"
babe leans at car door, tits invite; 
justifies with "just one bite"

she's ready to take his come in her mouth; 
can't hold back now
mule's running the plow.

*

Visual Proof

lies sometimes hide behind clear straight eyes
truth can appear in messy tears

trust can't be earned in just one day
time tells who'll go, who will stay


all matter is made of moving quarks
be it rain, fingers, a stone arc

 
think you're standing on a rock?
turns out it's of human stock. 
​

Picture


Upon Awakening

monkey-mind
myriad emotion

surrenders
to morning presence

here
with You
bouncing in the back seat
of this bumpy ride
to attain
a divine emptiness
,
embrace,
each morning; ​
listen to her
,
release  

varied manifestations
of fear
to You,
to clear 
and stand  before the day
readied 
to seek the way


​When We Retire At Night

by candlelight
​close eyes;
enter
in the cathedral, 
ribs spread
to let breath
cleanse
the day's
​doctrine, sin;
widen - warm
the inner room
to rejoin 
the womb;
calmly
dissolve into empty
without fear;
release,
sleep
my child,
breathe,
let go into deep
this heart-soul 
of varied roles
with singleness 
​of intent:
dwell in You,
​be present.

​

Picture
Treasure

first grade
gold
shoe untied
knocked on my door

to say hello;
​
two ponies
real hair
two braids
fall in front
of sparkle
brown eyes
seven pink
beads
on each;
shy smile
giggles 
as we write 
on a blue sky day
people cutting grass
with Zora
on the sofa 
​sharing a chair
school uniform
pressed and clean
clearly loved.

​
Return to 2020 Index
Poems 2021
  • Alma Turner
    • Alma Turner
    • Site Overview
    • Alma's Blessings
  • 12 Steps
    • Step 1: Humility >
      • Step One Questions
    • Step 2: Hope
    • Step 3: Faith
    • Step 4: Honesty
    • Step 5: Trust
    • Step 6: Willingness
    • Step 7: Surrender
    • Step 8: Forgiveness
    • Step 9: Justice >
      • Amend White to Black
    • Step 10: Perseverance >
      • Fear Watch
    • Step 11: Contact
    • Step 12: Service
  • Poems, Prayers, Music
    • Beloved Poems by Others >
      • I Stand at the Door by Sam Shoemaker
      • The Guest House by Rumi
      • The Invitation by Oriah
      • Invictus
      • Elohai Neshama
    • Poems by Alma >
      • Poems 2017-2020
      • Poems 2021 >
        • Prayer Poems
        • Poems Early 2021
        • Poems September 2021
        • Poems October 2021
        • Parables and Songs
        • Clay Haiku
      • Poems 2022
      • Injustice Poems
      • Poems 2023
    • Big Book Prayers
    • Music >
      • Roberta Flack
      • Marvin Gaye
  • more
    • Rowdy Beauties >
      • Rowdy Beauties Bible Study New Orleans
      • Rowdy Beauties Resouces >
        • Resources for Chapters 1-4
    • Disciplines >
      • Fasting
      • Lectio Divina and Centering Prayer
      • Reading!
      • 12 White Steps
    • The Gospel of Thomas
    • Psalms >
      • Psalms 23, 46, 91, 139
      • Psalms 121, 1, and 32
    • Bible Thoughts >
      • Genesis >
        • High Priest
        • Jacob is Israel.
      • Prophets >
        • Isaiah 30
        • Isaiah 54
        • Jeremiah 31:31-35
      • Frederick Douglas
      • Jesus >
        • Brown or Black
        • Teacher
        • Son of Man
        • Activist
        • High Priest
        • Innocent
        • Lynched
        • Alive
        • Sayings >
          • Sayings 1-3
          • Sayings 4-6
          • Sayings 7-9
          • Sayings 10-12
          • Sayings 13-15
          • Sayings 16-18
          • Sayings 19-21
          • Sayings 22-24
          • Sayings 25-27
          • Sayings 28-30
          • Sayings 31-33
          • Sayings 34-36
          • Sayings 37, 38, 39
          • Sayings 40, 41, 42
          • Sayings 43, 44, 45
          • Sayings 46, 47, 48
          • Sayings 49, 50, 51
          • Sayings 52, 53, 54
          • Sayings 55, 56, 57
          • Sayings 58, 59, 60
          • Sayings 61, 62, 63
          • Sayings 64, 65, 66
          • Sayings 73, 74, 75
          • Sayings 76, 77, 78
          • Sayings 100, 101, 102
          • Sayings 103, 104, 105
          • Sayings 106, 107, 108
          • Sayings 109, 110, 111
          • Sayings 112, 113, 114
    • The Symbol >
      • The Circle and Triangle
    • Blog
    • Preparations
    • MMS, CD, CDS