Don’t know what was wrong with Aunt Jenina
Though her face bore a dull green patina
Her pancakes sure tasted good
Like buttermilk pancakes should
We rued the day she switched to farina
I waited and I waited just in case she’d been delayed
I stood there feeling foolish, though I acted undismayed
A movie and some popcorn might have won her pretty smile
And I was very keen and so I waited quite a while
Perhaps she didn’t like the fact I had a missing tooth
I’d heard another one would grow and hoped that was the truth
I hoped to tell Jemima of the money that I’d found…
“Hid my tooth under my pillow and it turned into a pound.”
Jemima, as my girlfriend wasn’t stretching much belief
I didn’t have much money, but I had a lot teeth
Losing one seemed scary, but the outcome could be great
Because, you see, the tooth fairy was paying for our date
But then I felt a flutter as Jemima said “Hello.”
She covered up her mouth and said, “There’s something you should know,
I’ve also lost a tooth and now I’m ugly as a witch.”
I said, “And I’m a warlock but, with all these teeth, we’re rich.”
I used to have Alka-Seltzer stomachs
spitting Excedrin headaches
Had a lot to like in a Marlboro
even ate Aunt Jemima pancakes
I admit -- I thought Coke was xxxtt
was a member of the Pepsi Generation
Used to expect more from Standard
~ Did I ever get it?
Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben
Got the boot because of their skin
For those who take fright
Try PhotoShop white
Taste's the same since I don't know when!
J-oyful
E-xpression's
M-essage
I-n
M-y
A-nnual
A-crostic
B-eautifully
A-dvances
R-ight
R-emembrance's
A-im
Topic: Birthday of Jemima M. Abarra (January 23)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
If you find my lifeless body hanging from a tree,
Know that I have too much to live for,
I am not a fruit that easily grows on trees,
Yet too many trees have fruit that looks like me,
and too many Mamas sobbing hard on their knees,
Knowing that their baby had so much to live for,
Jemima is not my aunt,
Ben is not my uncle,
If you are too busy fighting to keep your belly full
That you have no time to fight to keep my lungs full
I have to let you go
because I have too much to live for,
There is nothing about my blackness that I need to hide,
So you best believe if I’m hanging it was not suicide,
So hear what I’m saying
cause I say it with pride
I have too much to live for.
Annie Lander
I never took notice of
Aunt Jemima photo as exploitation
Nothing racial or stereo types (did you)?
All I remember was the sticky bottle
on our kitchen table, next to a stack
a sack of pancakes or bakes :
I wonder who going to take her place
Would it be Rachel Ray, or the pioneer woman?
Black lives matters movement
is cleaning house of justice
and the rats behind the walls is surfacing:
Would poems about Negros race be erasing?
The things we fear most will come upon ya!
Are we making appointment with another riots-- plus death?
Have we any ideas who is attacking our souls
It's like what the Spanish proverb says –
**"Drink nothing without seeing it; Sign nothing without reading it." Quote :**
When words go blind
Tracing one ideas
Would be so hard to recalled
Through darkness one will fumble
Leaving a life of consequences
Visionless:
we cannot save them from the angry wind
The rice I use is Uncle Ben’s
Or was until today,
For just like Aunt Jemima,
Uncle Ben will go away.
He’s leaving with a friend of his
Named Mrs. Butterworth.
Like Aunt Jemima, she is known,
By many, for her girth.
To think of all that packaging
About to go to waste!
I hope that their replacements
Have, in both ways, better taste.
J-ust
E-njoy
M-eaning
I-n
M-arvelous
A-crostic
A-s
B-irthday
A-pplies
R-ighteous
R-egards
A-nnually
Topic: Birthday of Jemima M. Abarra (January 23)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
I’m facing a challenge and I’m taking bets
That I can remember the names of my pets
There’s Tommy and Jonnie and Sally and Barry
The one over there I believe might be Harry
Tiddles and Wriggles and Bruno and Gerry
Never stray far from their bestest mate Terry
But Sue, Lou and Nancy, Alberto And Drew
Appear to be loners, a bit like Baloo
That crowd to one side hang around in a gang
But seem to be led by Mei Ling and Chang
Now, can I recall who the rest of them are
I’ll try but they all look the same from afar
Lee, James, Amanda, Frank, Annie and Les
Annabelle, Gilbert, Wilbert and Dez
Sonya, Sam, Lesley-Anne, Mary-Lou, Bess
Stephanie, Bethany, Cuthbert and Jess
Edward and Jedward, Samson and Ben
Zebedee, Gerry-Lee, Timothy, Jen
Josh, Tod and Spartacus, Abbie and Sid
Oliver, Gulliver, Billy the Kid
There’s Tyson and Dyson, and Eric and Jim
And Betty and Hetty, Jemima and Kim
I got them from someone who lives down the road
And carried them all to my humble abode
I needed no crate cos the breeder had bowls
He told me that’s how one should carry tadpoles
Parad(em)ise
Dangling from a stolid chandelier of empty shadows
Her threadbare strings attached to vacant promises
Jemima has tried every angle of escape and refuge
Her make up faded and the jester’s façade burrowed
Deep into macabre deluded weather worn charades
She tries to gloss her lips but all she draws is blood
The empty bottle of juniper spirits by her naked thigh
A cannula of channelled happiness on desiccated skin
She powders her limp face in the vapour of a light bulb
Wired on Tungsten filament’s flushed out enlightenment
Beyond reproach and one line closer to a final curtain
She smells the fetid dungeon’s stench within and gags
Draped in the puke’s perfume and sickly acid bilious scent
She walks no further than the seedy river’s edge’s contempt
Offers herself free to the highest bidder and bids farewell
Just as the fairy tale fails to fall on prowling taste’s demise
One lonely taker strikes her bust in one fell swoop at last
Takes her dearest ink pumped skin that spelt ‘Only For You’
06th February 2019
Alabaster body of truth
got buried beneath
a dung-key pile of swastika lies
SWAT teams of fascist oppression
swarm the polling places
like hieroglyphic Dead Sea flies
Democracy is locked in a closet,
and minority tears are sorrow overflowing
from a false premise reel faucet
For a few rubles more,
Balaam poli sighs bite their tongue
and don’t say a word
As voting rights get trashed,
Uncle Ben and Aunt Jemima voices
never lever get heard
Tongue suppressor is an 'ol ancient Pharaoh trick;
dental floss over the facts,
say freedom diabetes tis how the patient got sick
Sugar coat the ballot Cain process,
put a chocolate high poll tax
to gain pure vanilla power access
Play the cerulean bugle blueberry call of the wild,
tap out the bank accounts in gangsta gutter style
While the cherry cheeks smile ...
knowing that the empty elector jingle reign sound,
from the tongue suppressor vice techniques,
will keep the mute prisoners of hope tightly bound
The smell of green grass after rain
A silky texture was added to the moisturized air gently touching my skin
Listening to a Bossa Nova and the calming waves
Espresso with a little whipped cream
Cinnamon is sprinkled on top
My dear cat Jemima, meowed
That was her reply to my sneeze
“That music isn't your taste!
What’s the matter with you?”
Someone said over there
“Is that right? Thank you for telling me.”
He might know who I am more than me.
AIN'T YA MAMA
I MAY NURTURE YOU NOW AND THEN
WE MAY OR MAY NOT BE NEXT OF KIN
BUT I FIND IT SO MAZING
I AIN'T YA MAMA
NOT YOUR MAMAM
nO, AUNT JEMIMA
NOT TRYING TO BE DONMINATION
COARSE AND DIRECTIVE, COVERT DRECTIONS
DOESN'T MEAN IT'S MY INTENTIION
I AIN'T YA MAMA
nOT YOUR MAMA
nO AUNT JEMIMA
I MAY TIE YOUR SHOES AND OMB YOUR HAIR
COOK YOU BREAKFAST, LUNCH AND DINNER
I AIN'T YA MAMA
NOT YOUR MAMA
NOT TRYING TO BE DONMINATION
COARSE AND DIRECTIVE, COVERT DIRECTIONS
I AM NOT YOUR MAMA
BUT I FIND IT SO MAZING
I MAY NURTURE YOU THEN AND NOW
AS A CHILD HOLD YOUR HAND
PROTECT YOU FROM THE ELEMENTS AND MAN
EVIL TREATS, SPIRITS THIS WORLD LIFE'S SPAN
IN YOUR HEART ON YOUR MIND, CARE FOR YOU LIKE A MOTHER
BUT ALAS IT I'M NOT YOUR MAMA I AM WHO...
WHO AM I? I AIN'T YA MAMA
NOT YOUR MAMA
NO AUNT JEMIMA
WHO AM I
I AM GOD
06/08/15 ©2015
09/7/17 edited
Light is awaking,
New dawn is breaking,
A breathtaking morning,
Now faces scream warning!
Spreading lava!
Getting faster!
Eruption!
Destruction!
Shaking!
Taking!
Dark.
(by Jemima Faith Childress)
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.