[Poet’s Note : this is a wry autobiographical memory written in traditional pirouette verse viz. 2 quintains, line 5 & 6 repeat, which is the toe turnaround. I wanted to write a narrative of a weird syncopated vignette, when I was knitting a pink mohair jersey at the time of my imprisonment. I reduced the narrative to a pirouette. When in prison, one of my interrogators was knitting the EXACT jersey in the exact colour & exact wool ! ie. in the final analysis, (in retrospect) everything in human life can be reduced to a pirouette, a turn-around dance ! ]
knitting a pink jersey
mohair with cables fine
to process flying thoughts
political activist
south africa turmoiled
south africa turmoiled
security police
came with casspirs and cuffs
interrogation chamber
police knit jersey pink
~~~~~~~~~
Who needs to be a rider
racing 'round a track
way back in the crowd
I'm going to lead the pack
who needs to be a loser
spinning on their wheels
or yield pole position
I'm going to lead the field
and wear the yellow jersey
the one who wins your heart
no longer in a supporting role
I'll have the starring part
and if you'll be my leading lady
and I'm your leading man
I'll always be upfront
always in the van
'twas at the country fair I spied her
outstanding in her field
(in many more ways than one)
beyond compare second to none
eyelashes long and lovely skin of velvety down
I insist who could resist those eyes so big so brown
(limpid pools?) 'twould make a fool of (almost) any man
but I'm her biggest fan and I won't lie I can't deny
a complexion creamy a gaze quite dreamy
took my breath away that day
and in her hair a ribbon a ribbon of bonny blue
lost my heart (and then my mind) what's a boy to do
'twere love instantly 'At first sight' one might even say
(could she be the one for me?)
I couldn't let her get away and so I took her home
it was a first for me but please don't think the worst
(there'll be no matrimony)
I've sailed the seven seas to the four corners of the earth
been to hell (without a handbasket) and for what it's worth
been around the whole wide world
but waiting there at the country fair
where ruminating I found my one and only
my Jersey Belle, my Jersey girl
It’s tattooed lightly on my upper arm
“I love my mom, and she loves me”, it reads.
A squad from Space Force dragged me in the weeds:
“We’ve nailed you, boy. You’ll do no further harm.”
I woke in Guatemala, feeling calm:
I knew that an American who pleads
such stuff as ‘habeas corpus’ oft succeeds,
and sought me out a lawyer, without qualm.
But asking for the consul caused alarm!
They deemed it, ‘most nefarious of deeds’.
The embassy said, “Out of all the breeds
of poison snakes, you lib’rals take the palm!”
“That mother-love thing brings no saving balm,
applying pressure to unanswered needs:
we’ve got your measure – tie-dye shirt and beads!
The type that once protested Vietnam!”
“You’re lucky that you didn’t buy the farm,
since MAGA’s down on surreptitious creeds.
Whoever hurts the orange leader, bleeds.
It’s anti-presidential, that there psalm.”
I didn't pull my weight
The boss was really sore
He said "you're second rate
and I won't take it anymore."
He continued raving
On how I was misbehaving
Said my job was not worth saving
And so I longed for Avon
Avon by the sea
I must go back to Avon
Avon by the sea
When my lifeboat needs a haven
When my problems need a maven
This is where I need to be
There's a ten-mile barrier island
It's not that far away:
Where ospreys touch down majestically
and beach forests gently sway.
But also on the Jersey shore
are the roots that once made me,
In the little town of Avon,
and when all the walls are caving
and hunger turns to craving
I retreat to Avon,
Avon by the sea
I took the train last September
Got off at Asbury Park
Strode the miles of boardwalk
Had to stop at coming dark.
I had regrets, I shed a tear
Then I saw a dolphin at setting light
At Ocean Grove I sat on a pier:
And on the shore it seemed alright.
I've paid my dues, I made my plea
They say I was guilty in the first degree
Let me lose the past in Avon,
I'll fly in like an escaping raven
Look! My friends are wildly wavin'
in Avon by the sea.
stars & stripes banner
over police transit desk -
railroad sparrow hides
I believed I saw you
at the top
of Carteret Street
Beloved*
But it wasn't you
Just the inspiration of you
I thought I saw you
at the end
of Ocean Avenue
Chinaski*
But it wasn't you
Just a whiff of you
I walked to Liberty Park
And I saw you
In a ray of sunlight
Bandini*
But it wasn't you
Just a shadow of you
I thought I saw you
On the boat
With your laughing eyes
Manolin*
But it wasn't you
Just the sea
that remembered you
And there at last
I saw you
My Little Prince*
on your cloud-tree
This time it's safe
I see you
Aby M.
P.S.*** :
Beloved is Toni Morrison's character in Beloved
Chinaski is Charles Bukowski's Character
Bandini is Arturo Bandini's character
Manolin is Ernest Hemingway's character in The old man and the sea
The Little Prince is Antoine de Saint Exupéry's character in The Little Prince
I met a young lady in Hoboken
Actually, her good leg was broken
She used her cane,
Mileage to gain
Went by bus with a Hoboken token.
written December 28, 2021
Number 42 Retire
Brooklyn Dodgers Number 42
Hang up your jersey, honey
No one can follow you after Jackie Robinson
Major League Baseball was uplifted into the outer sphere
When Jackie Robinson was brave enough
And brazen enough to try….
Major League Baseball had been closed to people of color
Jackie’s prowess, professionalism and success changed
The way people in the USA thought about all sports.
Thank goodness.
He paved the way for
black football players and basketball players too
I wonder if he ever knew?
Alarmed finally, after the Jersey bull
Placed its head against my belly
Started to press down the way I might
Try to push away some dread
Like the one that was heaving through
My chest, resembling acid reflux I guess
My fiancé saved me from the bull
Kicking him none too gently in the nose
As he pulled me away from his terse form
And toward his own more affectionate hug
Gratefully, I fell into his embrace
And sighed a hint of relief through
Clenched, panicked lips of dismay
She comes, Hail Gloria, growing in her approach,
wind and sea rising together, embracing.
She washes over me in her ardent desire, touching, tasting, loving.
The sand, her fingers, raking, biting,
dots of blood well where she touches me.
My hair entwined with Her,
she heaves her force against my body and I kneel,
submissive, gloriously in love and pain.
She brushes my cheek, water drips into my mouth,
the afterglow of Her teeth on my body.
With a gently blown kiss, She flies.
Winding lines of cars
Stop and go on black paved roads
Driving down the shore
Bright umbrellas pose
Sitting on a sandy beach
Lolling in the sun
The smell of hot dogs
salty air and creosote
Float in mid-day air
Little children play
building castles made of sand
near a deep blue sea
A delightful book
Floppy hat and Coppertone
Fill a summer day
A red setting sun
Sunburned skin and tires eyes
Tell it's time to leave
Tail lights glowing red
pinned against a blacked sky
Guide the way back home
Jersey Shore was where my family picnicked every year
Under the weeping willow with a spraying fountain near
Nineteen ninety-eight we saw a bald eagle fly west
Eagles always soar that time of year to their nest
Though it was a chilly June we swam in the reverie
Encompassed in frigid waters, we still enjoyed our family
Elated we ate sandwiches and drank fresh lemonade
Needing each other with laughter as in the sun we laid
This tradition became a yearly custom in early afternoon
Holding on the memories of the Jersey Shore in June
Juneteenth Contest
Edward Ibeh
July 7, 2018
You need some gas? We'll, step right up
And pump it 'til you've had your fill
Unless you're in New Jersey, where
You best make sure you know the drill.
For it's the last remaining state
Where pumping gas is not allowed
Except for paid attendants and
Of this New Jerseyans are proud.
So even if you're in a rush,
You must sit in your car and wait
Until a service station guy
Can bother to accommodate.
And if you try to speed him up,
You'd better learn to zip your lip,
For then he'll wash your windshield,
Slowly, hoping to procure a tip.
When questioned why this law exists,
Which out-of-towners do detest,
A local politician said,
And I can just assume in jest:
Perhaps our Jersey diet
Full of greasy food's to blame;
Therefore, if we pump the gas ourselves,
We'll burst right into flame!
The man planted and watered the garden,
like he did always in his weathered dungarees, as he told the girl
no,
no to a day down the shore...
The phlox and peonies thirsted for his touch, screaming for the tilt of the watering can.
The girl stood at the screen door, mid summer New Jersey heat sweltered at her bare feet,
she clutched a glass of whiskey while he whistled at his pink and yellow crop.
Raindrop tears rolled off her chin, dissolving with the trail of salt into the booze, her black lace nightgown glued to her thin body.
The bees circled his flowers, not caring for tears or indifference.
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