Best Dorsey Poems
I am black and I have the ability to glorify the King
I am great and in believing in him, I have authority over all things
I am the Father and Mother of past, present and future
Peacemakers, Educators, Scientists, Musicians, Scholars, Kings and Queens
I am John Love the sharpener inventor
I am Mae C. Jemison the astronaut
I am Martin Luther King the peacemaker
I am Toni Morrison a contemporary novelist.
I am Muhammad Ali the boxer
I am Wilma Rudolph the Olympic track and field champion
I am Tiger woods the golfer
I am Lucy Laney the educator.
I am Jack Johnson the heavyweight
I am Rosa Parks the segregation leader
I am Jesse Wilkins the physicist and mathematician
I am Serena Williams a tennis player.
I am Isaac Murphy the great through-bred jockey
I am Bessie Coleman the first licensed African American pilot
I am Chester Burnett the blues singer
I am Eleanor Holmes a politician and civil rights activist.
I am Thomas Dorsey the father of gospel music
I am Chadwick Boseman the famous Black Panther actor
I am Barack Obama the forty-four first
Black Afro-American president, we are the future.
We are the hope for the lost and forgotten generation.
Inspired by the Gospel song, “Precious Lord, Take My hand,”
by Thomas A. Dorsey
Prerequisite to Peter’s leadership
On the boat, on the sea,
Jesus walks next to me.
It was calm on rough seas as Christ’s feet
tests our faith, opens eyes.
Not a ghost, no disguise.
Refrain: This your rock, O my Lord, you lead me
“Can I come, can we talk,”
I ask Him as He walks.
He says, “Come,” walk to me; wow my feet
on surface, I receive,
still the wind does perceive.
Refrain: This your rock, O my Lord, you lead me
The persist of pied waves
scared me straight, I’m not brave.
As I sink, I cry out to the Lord.
“Help me, please!” A strong grasp.
“Thank you, Lord,” as I gasp.
Refrain: This your rock, O my Lord, you lead me
Safe and sound, as we rock
in the boat; we’re His flock.
Our shepherd brought our boat straight to shore.
We’re in awe of His works.
There’s no doubt, there are perks.
Refrain: This your rock, O my Lord, you lead me
Still warm hands, unsettling.
Christ’s whipping, deafening.
Deny Him? How could I! How I weep.
He forgives readily,
As Christ loves steadily.
Refrain: This your rock, O my Lord, you lead me
HOG KILLING TIME
There's a chill in the air
And holidays are near,
Thanksgiving's just 'round the bend;
There's a feeling amongst country folks
That's absolute prime,
Everyone senses it's hog killing time.
Oh what a spectacle!
Oh what a show!
You'll find nothing like it,
If you look high and low.
From sunup to sundown,
It lasts the whole day;
And once it gets started,
Horses couldn't pull you away.
Everyone has his own part to do,
With all the commotion,
It feels like a zoo.
The poor victim for this occasion
Has long been picked out,
And soon will become food,
From his tail to his snout.
There's a shot and a squeal
And he's out for the count;
A cut of the throat,
And blood spews like a fount.
In a barrel of hot water,
He's cleaned and de-haired;
Amongst all the men,
This giant task is shared.
A skillful knife separates all parts of meat,
Including pig ears, pig tail, land pig feet.
The women's task is always chittlin's to make.
There's a boatload of goo and muck
They must rake.
When night time falls,
All surround the black pot;
Where the oil is bubbling,
And boy is it hot!
Pieces of skin are stirred with a surge,
And after some time,
Crisp cracklings emerge.
Sweet potatoes are roasted,
Right in the fire;
And of these simple treats,
No one ever does tire.
When it's all finally over ,
And the day is all done;
The grown-ups are weary,
But the kids just had fun.
Copyright 2008 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
from Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia
#southern #southernlife #southernfood #southernculture #southernfoodpoems #countrylife
(STEEL) MAGNOLIA
Breathtaking,
Delicate beauty
Of Creamy Perfection
With Roots Running Deep
In Southern Soil,
A history almost
As old as time,
And endurance
As tough as
Steel;
She defies description
And explanation
But...
Beauty is its own excuse
2012 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
from My Magnolia Memories and Musings -In Poems
#southern #southernpoems #steelmagnolia
SOUTHERN LIFE
If you want a glimpse of Southern life,
Come close and walk with me;
I'll tell you all the simple things,
That you are sure to see.
You'll see mockingbirds and bumblebees,
Magnolia blossoms and dogwood trees,
Caterpillars on the step,
Wooden porches cleanly swept;
Watermelons on the vine,
Strong majestic Georgia pines;
Rocking chairs and front yard swings,
June bugs flying on a string;
Turnip greens and hot cornbread,
Coleslaw and barbecue;
Fried okra, fried corn, fried green tomatoes,
Fried pies and pickles, too.
There's ice cold tea that's syrupy sweet,
And cool, green grass beneath your feet;
Catfish nipping in the lake,
And fresh young boys on the make.
You'll see all these things
And much, much more,
In a way of life, that I adore.
Copyright 2008 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
from Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia - A Life in Poems
#southern #southernpoems
there was a time
i remember it well
when one could go away for a
while &
not be noticed.
there was a time
i remember it well
when one could turn off everything &
not be contacted,
not be sought after,
not be checked up on,
not be held to a response,
not be interrupted &
not be harmed.
there was a time
when two lovers could
pack themselves away,
far from prying eyes,
far from curious conspirators,
far from the rest of the
vultures
who prey upon fleeting bits of
happiness, like they hadn’t had a
bite of carcass to eat in
days.
there was a time
when the youth of the world,
didn’t voluntarily offer up all the details of
their lives
to those very same agencies of government
who will come to their house &
tear them from their families,
who will lock them up & throw away the
key,
who will keep them incarcerated for the better part
of their known existence,
just because zuckerberg, dorsey & the rest of the
opportunists,
said so.
but when privacy died
everything changed,
lighting the fuse for the slavery to come.
lighting the fuse for the slavery to come.
lighting
the
fuse
for
the
slavery
to
come.
BACKROADS
Rocky,
Dusty,
Bumpy,
Curving,
Twisting,
Turning
Tree-Canopied pathways;
The Short cut
The Scenic Route
Or the long way home.
2012 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
from My Magnolia Memories and Musings in Poems
#country #countrylife #countrylifepoems #southernpoems
Was just a young'un in the big band era
But it seems just like yesterday
Listening to Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey
Still love it right to this day
Miller's Modernaires, and Dorsey's Pied Pipers
With their smooth harmonic blend
Chattanooga Choo-Choo and The Trolley Song
Brought me so much pleasure no end
Guess I was influenced by my older sisters
Was not even ten at the time
It just goes to show the impact they had made
For those long ago days I still pine
It wasn't until Elvis debuted in fifty-six
When Rock'n Roll took over
The Big Band era came quickly to a halt
And ended it's popular exposure
Don't even know what is popular today
Or even if they've given it a name
Guess I'm just an old guy living in the past
Progress is the name of the game
MEET MY MISSISSIPPI
Faulkner's Sanctuary
Eudora's home state
Elvis' birthplace
The bulk of the Trace;
Sprawling beaches
Along the Gulf Coast shore
One blues man's crossroads
And inspiration for more;
An abundance of history
Tradition and folklore
Warm front porch welcomes
With a wide open door;
A ride down the mighty river
On the American Queen
And some of the most
Beautiful countryside
That you've ever seen
She's music and melodies
And the mockingbird's songs,
By valor and arms
And faith ever strong;
She's magnolias blooming
Around Jackson's capitol dome
And the sweet scent of honeysuckle
That forever says "home"
She's My Mississippi
She's hospitality's face
Roll On Mississippi
You're a true State of Grace
2013 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
#Mississippi #mississippipoems
YOU AIN'T COUNTRY
If you've never...
Swept the front yard (No, not the porch but the yard),
Played under the porch (Yes, under)
Intentionally eaten dirt
(Not just any dirt, mind you, that good ole
red clay kind)
Gone barefoot outside...all day
And seen old car tires used as
Flower planters and yard decorations and swings...
You ain't country.
If you’ve never...
“Sopped” syrup or gravy with a biscuit
Shelled the peas for your supper or
Drank coffee from the saucer
You ain’t country
If you don't know what a truck patch is
Or about the grease can on top of the stove
Or that canning vegetables does NOT involve a can...
You ain't country.
If you've never used a mason jar as a drinking glass
Or to eat milk and bread from
Or to catch fireflies in..
Or to cut out homemade biscuits with
You ain't country.
And, if you're not shaking your head in agreement
And smiling a bit as you remember....
I know for sure
You ain't country
2012 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
#country #countrylife
(Mickey D's, Winter Haven FL)
Fanciest McD's you ever saw!
Life sized statues caught in motion,
Marilyn, her skirts flying, Elvis,
thrusting out his guitar in a musical
******, both Blues Brothers in
black suits, ties awry --a real
Juke Box playing, not Tommy Dorsey,
but disco: "YMCA," "I Will survive,"
shades of my 70's sabbatical
from marriage, reprieve from
serial commitment. Huge, black
workingman sits down with
his senior coffee, singing along
that he will survive, before
heaving himself out the door
to his real life. A man, his back
to me at the napkins dispenser,
wears a Christian t-shirt, which
reads" A Blood Donor Saved
My Life. The mop lady, mopping
under tables, stops to jive
to the music, and then, there's
me, waiting in line for an
Egg McMuff, standing galvanized
under circular nightclub
fixtures, illuminating the ceiling,
brighter than the early Mid-
Florida morning sun: glittering
electric bands overhead of
black/red/black/yellow/black.
Life repeats.
MISSISSIPPI
In the heart of Dixie,
Perfumed by
The sweet, fragrant smell of magnolias
and serenaded with
The melodious songs of the mockingbird,
Lies a true Queen of the South.
Her name is Mississippi .
I don’t know how to explain this place,
Except to say that she “speaks” to me.
The rocks, the flowers, the birds and trees
Speak to me.
They sometimes whisper,
And sometimes they shout;
But always they say,
“This is where you belong.”
2012 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
from My Magnolia Memories and musings - In Poems
#Mississippi #mississippipoems
BAPTISMAL SUNDAY
Sometimes in the country church,
When they had no baptismal pool,
Baptizing in a neighbor's pond,
Was oftentimes the rule.
They'd gather all the candidates,
From all the months gone by,
Those who'd made the sacred vow,
To their old lives they would die.
The ones who were to be submerged
Wore white robes and white caps,
They'd march up to the water's edge,
Some quite afraid , perhaps.
Prayers were said and hymns were sung,
And the preacher waded deep,
He'd call them in, one by one,
To take that faithful leap.
He'd raise his hand and say the words
"Father, Son and Holy Ghost "
Then dipped them in and raised them up,
Witnessed by the crowded host.
There'd be someone who would send up praise,
And someone who would shout,
And ,almost ,predictably,
Someone would fall out.
They'd fan the ones who'd "felt the touch"
And greet the new converts,
Then make their way back up the road ,
To the country church .
2008 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
from Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia-A Life In Poems
#country #countrylife #countrypoems #bapstismpoem #countrychurch
#southernlife
#southernpoems
SOUTHERNERS REMEMBER
Southern folks remember when
All of the stores in town
(except maybe a few gas stations )
Closed on Sundays...
Everyone went to church
And the preacher was always invited
To someone's house to eat after services.
We remember when
Cars pulled off to the side of the road
As a funeral procession passed...
And when the whole "village"
Really DID help raise the child .
2012 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
from My Magnolia Memories and Musings
#southern #southernpoems #southernculture
SOUL FOOD RESTAURANT
When you visit your favorite soul food spot,
Along with your faithful friends,
What you'll eat any given day,
On your tastes it all depends.
The selections are quite varied
And the menu might read like this:
For breakfast Country Ham and Eggs,
With biscuits and cheese grits,
For Lunch : Neckbones, Catfish,
Smothered Chicken,
Pork Chops and Pigs Feet.
Everything looks so delicious,
And these are just the meats.
The vegetables you might enjoy,
include greens, squash, and black-eyed peas;
Or you might want fried corn and pinto beans,
Along with macaroni and cheese.
What ever it is that you decide,
It's sure to hit the spot,
It'll come to your booth,
Fresh and piping hot.
Be prepared to sit a spell,
Cause you won't want to move;
For you will have dined most sumptuously,
As your clean plate will prove.
2008 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
from Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia- A Life in Poems
#southern #southernlife #southernfood #southernfoodpoem #soulfoodpoem