Poet's Corner

[sky dancer]

Dacoits

When the teacher said:
I'll get you married off
if you don't recite the lesson
I was afraid.

When my brother said:
My 'husband' is my boss
who never grants me leave
even when I need it most
I grew suspicious.

When the neighbours said:
But, he's a man, a 'maharaja'
so what could he be missing?
I understood.

That marriage is a huge punishment,
that a husband gobbles up your freedom,
and that half the population
that we nourished at the breast
divides
and rules.

By Saavitri

 

[sky dancer]

God I Hate Christmas



God I hate Christmas
with all it's good cheer
I hearing people laughin'
but I shed a tear

Folks they just love ya'
one day of the year
The rest of the time
they wouldn't come near ya'

They send you a card
full of love and best wishes
Then in the New Year
they run off with ya' misses

They're stuffin' their gobs
as fast as they can
Bugger them starving,
in Afghanistan

Then Santa Clause comes
with a full sack
A new doll for Betty
a bike for our Jack

'Eat, drink and be merry
tomorrow we die'
Forget about Jesus
'let sleeping dogs lie'

You think I'm a cynic
a miserable bastard
Come Christmas day
I just wanta get plastered.




Copyright; Elaine Hamlet

 

[sky dancer]

The Perfect Gift



'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck.
How to live in a world so politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "elves" -
"vertically challenged" they now called themselves.

And labour conditions up at the North pole
Were alleged by the Union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Freed to the wilds by the humane society

And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced by four pigs, of all the things stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh:
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A
And people had started to call for the cops
Upon hearing sleds run across their rooftops.

Second hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened;
His fur-trimmed suit was dubbed "unenlightened".
Then to prove the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolph was suing for unauthorised use of his nose...

And had gone on TV in front of the nation
Demanding six mill, overdue compensation.
So half the reindeer were gone, and his wife,
Who suddenly decided she's had enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause such commotion!

Nothing of leather, nothing of fur
Which meant nothing for him, and nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute,
Nothing to aim, nothing to shoot,

Nothing that clamoured and made lots of noise,
Nothing for girls and nothing for boys,
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific,
Nothing warlike or non-pacific.

No candy or sweets, they are bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden
Were like Ken and Barbie, (better off hidden)

For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No basketball, no football, someone could get hurt -
Besides, playing sport exposed childrent to dirt.

Dolls were said to be sexist and oh so passé,
and Nintendo would rot their brains away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He couldn't figure out what he should do next.

He tried to be merry, he tried to be gay
(Though you must be so careful with that word today).
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground -
Nothing acceptable to be found.

Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering left or right.
A gift that would satisfy with no indecision
Each group of people from every religion.

Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere, even you.
So here is that gift, its price beyond worth:
"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."




Author Unknown

 

[sky dancer]

An Eighties Christmas Flashback




'Twas the night before Friday
and all through the town,
no cops were cruising,
no narks were around.

As we all rolled our joints
to be put in our sacks,
we knew that soon
we'd be stoned to the max.

We drank Jack Daniel's
And smoked Panama Red,
a hit of tea
and man I felt dead.

We were all up that midnight
all of the day, when
there was a knock at the door
that gave us away.

There stood a man
wearing a smile,
so we invited him in
to party a while.

What to our red,
glassy eyes should appear,
two pounds of Columbia
and a case of beer.

So we sat down
and he started to roll,
filled up a glass
and lit up a bowl.

We ask the man
what was his name,
he said Saint Nichol
and drugs is my fame.

So as the man
strutted out of sight,
he said mari-ju-ana to all
and to all a good night.




Copyright; Flower Child

 

[Valerie]

My poetry contribution in honor of my friend Skydancer!


I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you -- Nobody -- Too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Don't tell! they'd advertise -- you know!

How dreary -- to be -- Somebody!
How public -- like a Frog --
To tell one's name -- the livelong June --
To an admiring Bog!

~ Emily Dickinson ~

 

[sky dancer]

Thanks Valerie!

I love it.

 

[Sidestreamer]

And a verdict
And the sentence
and the one left making repentance
You just predict
You had spent it
You forget you just can't renege it.
Never spoken
Never needed
Never thought your mind would just bleed it.
Knew you're broken
Knew to feed it
Knew it left you right here, defeated.

Another horrible spur-of-the-moment prose by Vermin.

 

[sky dancer]

A Funeral: Plainsong From a Younger Woman to an Older Woman
by Judy Grahn

i will be your mouth now, to do your singing
breath belongs to those who do the breathing.
warm life, as it passes through your fingers
flares up in the very hands you will be leaving

you have left, what is left
for the bond between women is a circle
we are together within it.

i am your best, i am your kind
kind of my kind, i am your wish
wish of my wish, i am your breast
breast of my breast, i am your mind
mind of my mind, i am your flesh
i am your kind, i am your wish
kind of my kind, i am your best

now you have left you can be
wherever the fire is when it blows itself out.
now you are a voice in any wind
i am a single wind
now you are any source of a fire
i am a single fire

wherever you go to, i will arrive
whatever i have been, you will come back to
wherever you leave off, i will inherit
whatever i resurrect, you shall have it

you have right, what is right
for the bond between women is returning
we are endlessly within it
and endlessly apart within it.
it is not finished
it will not be finished

i will be your heart now, to do your loving
love belongs to those who do the feeling.

life, as it stands so still along your fingers
beats in my hands, the hands i will, believing
that you have become she, who is not, any longer
somewhere in paticular

we are together in your stillness
you have wished us a bonded life
love of my love, i am your breast
arm of my arm, i am your strength
breath of my breath, i am your foot
thigh of my thigh, back of my back
eye of my eye, beat of my beat
kind of my kind, i am your best

when you were dead i said you had gone to the mountain

the trees do not yet speak of you

a mountain when it is no longer
a mountain, goes to the sea
when the sea dies it goes to the rain
when the rain dies it goes to the grain
when the grain dies it goes to the flesh
when the flesh dies it goes to the mountain

now you have left, you can wander
will you tell whoever could listen
tell all the voices who speak to younger women
tell all the voices who speak to us when we need it
that the love between women is a circle
and is not finished

wherever i go to, you will arrive
whatever you have been, i will come back to
wherever i leave off, you will inherit
whatever we resurrect, we shall have it
we shall have it, we have right

and you have left, what is left

i will take your part now, to do your daring
lots belong to those who do the sharing.
i will be your fight now, to do your winning
as the bond between women is beginning
in the middle at the end
my first beloved, present friend
if i could die like the next rain
i'd call you by your mountain name
and rain on you
want of my want, i am your lust
wave of my wave, i am your crest
earth of my earth, i am your crust
may of my may, i am your must
kind of my kind, i am your best

tallest mountain least mouse
least mountain tallest mouse

you have put your very breath upon mine
i shall wrap my entire fist around you
i can touch any woman's lip to remember

we are together in my motion
you have wished us a bonded life

 

[sky dancer]

I'm not a girl
I'm a hatchet
I'm not a hole
I'm a whole mountain
I'm not a fool
I'm a survivor
I'm not a pearl
I'm the Atlantic Ocean
I'm not a good lay
I'm a straight razor
look at me as if you had never seen a woman before
I have red, red hands and much bitterness.

~Judy Grahn~

 

[sky dancer]

wishes for sons


i wish them cramps.
i wish them a strange town
and the last tampon.
I wish them no 7-11.

i wish them one week early
and wearing a white skirt.
i wish them one week late.

later i wish them hot flashes
and clots like you
wouldn't believe. let the
flashes come when they
meet someone special.
let the clots come
when they want to.

let them think they have accepted
arrogance in the universe,
then bring them to gynecologists
not unlike themselves.

Lucille Clifton

 

[sky dancer]

Homage to My Hips


these hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top

Lucille Clifton

 

[midcan5]

Among Children

"I walk among the rows of bowed heads--
the children are sleeping through fourth grade
so as to be ready for what is ahead,
the monumental boredom of junior high
and the rush forward tearing their wings
loose and turning their eyes forever inward.
These are the children of Flint, their fathers
work at the spark plug factory or truck
bottled water in 5 gallon sea-blue jugs
to the widows of the suburbs. You can see
already how their backs have thickened,
how their small hands, soiled by pig iron,
leap and stutter even in dreams. I would like
to sit down among them and read slowly
from The Book of Job until the windows
pale and the teacher rises out of a milky sea
of industrial scum, her gowns streaming
with light, her foolish words transformed
into song, I would like to arm each one
with a quiver of arrows so that they might
rush like wind there where no battle rages
shouting among the trumpets, Hal Ha!
How dear the gift of laughter in the face
of the 8 hour day, the cold winter mornings
without coffee and oranges, the long lines
of mothers in old coats waiting silently
where the gates have closed. Ten years ago
I went among these same children, just born,
in the bright ward of the Sacred Heart and leaned
down to hear their breaths delivered that day,
burning with joy. There was such wonder
in their sleep, such purpose in their eyes
dosed against autumn, in their damp heads
blurred with the hair of ponds, and not one
turned against me or the light, not one
said, I am sick, I am tired, I will go home,
not one complained or drifted alone,
unloved, on the hardest day of their lives.
Eleven years from now they will become
the men and women of Flint or Paradise,
the majors of a minor town, and I
will be gone into smoke or memory,
so I bow to them here and whisper
all I know, all I will never know."

by Philip Levine

 

[sky dancer]

Looking for Each Other


I have been looking for you, World Honored One,
since I was a little child.
With my first breath, I heard your call,
and began to look for you, Blessed One.
I've walked so many perilous paths,
confronted so many dangers,
endured despair, fear, hopes, and memories.
I've trekked to the farthest regions, immense and wild,
sailed the vast oceans,
traversed the highest summits, lost among the clouds.
I've lain dead, utterly alone,
on the sands of ancient deserts.
I've held in my heart so many tears of stone.

Blessed One, I've dreamed of drinking dewdrops
that sparkle with the light of far-off galaxies.
I've left footprints on celestial mountains
and screamed from the depths of Avici Hell, exhausted, crazed with despair
because I was so hungry, so thirsty.
For millions of lifetimes,
I've longed to see you,
but didn't know where to look.
Yet, I've always felt your presence with a mysterious certainty.

I know that for thousands of lifetimes,
you and I have been one,
and the distance between us is only a flash of thought.
Just yesterday while walking alone,
I saw the old path strewn with Autumn leaves,
and the brilliant moon, hanging over the gate,
suddenly appeared like the image of an old friend.
And all the stars confirmed that you were there!
All night, the rain of compassion continued to fall,
while lightning flashed through my window
and a great storm arose,
as if Earth and Sky were in battle.
Finally in me the rain stopped, the clouds parted.
The moon returned,
shining peacefully, calming Earth and Sky.
Looking into the mirror of the moon, suddenly
I saw myself,
and I saw you smiling, Blessed One.
How strange!

The moon of freedom has returned to me,
everything I thought I had lost.
From that moment on,
and in each moment that followed,
I saw that nothing had gone.
There is nothing that should be restored.
Every flower, every stone, and every leaf recognize me.
Wherever I turn, I see you smiling
the smile of no-birth and no-death.
The smile I received while looking at the mirror of the moon.
I see you sitting there, solid as Mount Meru,
calm as my own breath,
sitting as though no raging fire storm ever occurred,
sitting in complete peace and freedom.
At last I have found you, Blessed One,
and I have found myself.
There I sit.

The deep blue sky,
the snow-capped mountains painted against the horizon,
and the shining red sun sing with joy.
You, Blessed One, are my first love.
The love that is always present, always pure, and freshly new.
And I shall never need a love that will be called “last.”
You are the source of well-being flowing through numberless troubled lives,
the water from your spiritual stream always pure, as it was in the beginning.
You are the source of peace,
solidity, and inner freedom.
You are the Buddha, the Tathagata.
With my one-pointed mind
I vow to nourish your solidity and freedom in myself
so I can offer solidity and freedom to countless others,
now and forever.

Thich Nhat Hanh

 

[chloe]

The Passionate Freudian to his Love

Only name the day, and we'll fly away
In the face of old traditions,
To a sheltered spot, by the world forgot,
Where we'll park our inhibitions.
Come and gaze in eyes where the love-light lies
As it psychoanalyses,
And when once you glean what your fantasies mean
Life will hold no more surprises.
When you've told your love what you're thinking of
Things will be much more informal;
Through a sunlit land we'll go hand-in-hand,
Drifting gently back to normal.

While the pale moon gleams, we will dream sweet dreams,
And I'll win your admiration,
For it's only fair to admit I'm there
With a mean interpretation.
In the sunrise glow we will whisper low
Of the scenes our dreams have painted,
And when you're advised what they symbolized
We'll begin to feel acquainted.
So we'll gaily float in a slumber boat
Where subconscious waves dash wildly;
In the stars' soft light, we will say good night
And good-night!' will put it mildly.

Our desires shall be from repressions free--
As it's only right to treat them.
To your ego's whims I will sing sweet hymns,
And ad libido repeat them.
With your hand in mine, idly we'll recline
Amid bowers of neuroses,
While the sun seeks rest in the great red west
We will sit and match psychoses.
So come dwell a while on that distant isle
In the brilliant tropic weather;
Where a Freud in need is a Freud indeed,
We'll be always Jung together.

Dorothy Parker

 

[sky dancer]

the photograph: a lynching


is it the cut glass
of their eyes
looking up toward
the new gnarled branch
of the black man
hanging from a tree?

is it the white milk pleated
collar of the woman
smiling toward the camera,
her fingers loose around
a christian cross drooping
against her breast?

is it all of us
captured by history into an
accurate album? will we be
required to view it together
under a gathering sky?

Lucille Clifton

 

[sky dancer]

There is a girl inside


There is a girl inside.
She is randy as a wolf.
She will not walk away and leave these bones
to an old woman.

She is a green tree in a forest of kindling.
She is a green girl in a used poet.

She has waited patient as a nun
for the second coming,
when she can break through gray hairs
into blossom

and her lovers will harvest
honey and thyme
and the woods will be wild
with the damn wonder of it.

Lucille Clifton

 

[chloe]

There is a girl inside


There is a girl inside.
She is randy as a wolf.
She will not walk away and leave these bones
to an old woman.

She is a green tree in a forest of kindling.
She is a green girl in a used poet.

She has waited patient as a nun
for the second coming,
when she can break through gray hairs
into blossom

and her lovers will harvest
honey and thyme
and the woods will be wild
with the damn wonder of it.

Lucille Clifton

I like this one

 

[sky dancer]

I like this one

Lucille Clifton is gifted. I just discovered her recently.

 

[chloe]

Lucille Clifton is gifted. I just discovered her recently.

never heard of her I will have to check some of her books out from the library.

 

[sky dancer]

To A Dark Moses


you are the one
i am lit for.
Come with your rod
that twists
and is a serpent.
i am the bush.
i am burning
i am not consumed.

Lucille Clifton