Long Cautioned Poems
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It was 64ºf and overcast this morning when Lisa and I started our 5-mile jog to the Harbor and back. We always start our semesters this way. We’re emotionally ready for fall weather and hopefully, a long and cruel winter.
Sunny, Lisa, Leong and I were starting the morning with breakfast together. We have summer catching up to do.
Of course, Sunny never does the expected. Over a bowl of heart-shaped Cheerios in the cafeteria, she announced that she’s “really going to try this year.”
“That's a choice,” Leong admitted dryly.
“You mean academically?” Lisa asked, for clarification purposes.
“Wait,” Leong updogged, “Did your parents ask for proof that you were here?”
Sunny rolled her eyes, she knew she’d get trolled with a newfangled declaration like that, but she meant it and she wasn’t tempted to elaborate.
“You’re a phoenix, rising from the ashes,” I said encouragingly.
“It’s a 4th in a lifetime opportunity,” Lisa noted.
Handling university academics is largely a structural task.
All it requires is artfully arranging information and slices of time.
“You’ve got this,” I affirmed.
“Let’s not get excited,” Sunny cautioned, “One reason I’m so hot is that I’m emotionally unavailable.”
“It’s your best quality.” Leong observed.
Tick tock, we’re all still unpacking but things are taking shape. Senior year starts in 3 days.
.
.
Songs for this:
Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall
Don't You Worry 'Bout A Thing by Stevie Wonder
Our cast:
Sunny, (roommate) 21, is from Nebraska, she’s a cowgirl (seriously, she has a quarter horse and barrel races it), she’s an outspoken fem-facing ladies-lady whose life is an endless parade of ‘sleepovers.’ Sunny knows all the best gossip and she’s somehow befriended all the professors.
Lisa, (roommate) 21, A Manhattanite and reluctant ‘glamor girl.’ My bff. A fellow (pre-med) molecular biophysics and biochemistry major.
Leong, (roommate) 21, is from Macau, China - the Las Vegas of Asia and a proud communist (don’t knock it til you’ve tried it). She and Sunny are ‘molecular, cellular, and developmental biology majors.’ I speak Cantonese - I lived in Shenzhen China (about 30 miles from Macau) - maybe that’s why she was originally paired with us?
Me, Your writer is just a simple country girl from Athens Georgia.
Slushbo was called Pinkie back in the “day”
Boys who dated her said “hip, hip hooray!”
She was daring and dashing, and did many great things.
But never was offered a pretty diamond ring.
That’s okay, she said, when I am old I shall live with cats.
She had the best sense of humor in town of Monkey Flats.
Her family and friends laughed until they cried tears.
She jested and joked, amid all kinds of cheers.
You don’t even like cats, her bestie Matilda said.
I shall live with them all over my house ‘til I’m dead!
The friends both thought it was a clever joke and hilarious.
Fifty years later, Shushbo is a cat-lover-nefarious.
She is a real odd one the neighbors whisper to their kin.
Don’t go to her door, they cautioned, she will not let you in.
She’s a witch, a warlock, a crazy old cat-lady for sure.
They have no idea her heart is golden, incredibly pure.
Carol decided to be a doctor
but medical school was a bore
her family thought she should be a writer
she laughed at their enthusiasm
next she tried law school
her LSAT scores were high
she was surrounded by children of lawyers
and grandchildren of lawyers
I have nothing in common with them, she lamented
they speak a language I do not know
she decided to train to be a wedding planner
Her town has 145 residents; there were no weddings
her parents cautioned her to choose her next step wisely
We are not paying for any more college they told her
Sixteen colleges later, she has no degree
But she has put off working for twenty-two years
I think she is wiser than most of us
I was recklessly driven to such a BARREN place so much like myself, and this empty quest was just a fool-hearted venture. Always living on the edge, I was adventurous and wild with a high tolerance for risk. Everyone who heard of my plans, both friends and foe, cautioned me "No"! My best friend Stan, my girlfriend Ann, and my worst enemy, Van said "No"!!! But my mind was 'made up', my brains were 'shut down', and I was a clown. I had wandered here and wander there and just about everywhere. So I whispered to myself, "With the proper care and the proper gear, why not me"? I always knew that there was no place like home, but I had a THIRST to run and roam. I figured that if things got out of hand, I could always retrace my tracts and retreat. I had read about a German family who got lost and died in a desert. After thirteen years their vehicle and their bones were finally found. Their fate and misfortune brought tears to my eyes, and a vision of heavy heat waves and wind gusts of death flashed across my brains, but I quickly dismissed it saying, "Not I", and departed. I reached the desert and felt at home with a different kind of beauty in brush and sand. But before long, I saw mirages and realized I had made the last wrong turn of my life. My only OASIS was an unearthly one as I was ushered into heaven.
09242018PoSoupContest, I Wander The Desert Alone, Edward Ibeh *Fiction
The great spirits began to dance their thanksgiving song
Grandmother Forest watched with pride and thoughtfulness
Auntie Running Bear had formed Brother Fire, and was seeking
Truth from her nephews’ spirit animals.
Wise Owl was there, summoning his power animal.
Hooting in the trees verified he had reached his inner truths.
Sly Fox was trying his best to concentrate, but he was distracted.
Irritated that Wise Owl’s spirit guide was verifying his presence.
This is not a competition, Auntie Running Bear cautioned her charges.
Communing with your spirit guides is something we do individually.
They come in their own time; know they are here, to be summoned.
Creeping turtle felt her spirit animal’s presence, for she was clairsentient.
What if we feel she is here, but we cannot see her?
You have reached a Nirvana that the medicine woman cannot dispute.
Grandmother Forest watched and listened in fascination.
Thrilled she knew how to hoot like an owl. What sound does a turtle make?
Her shattered splattered heart landed at my feet
I was shocked when I heard the splat,
But even more concerned when her heart broke in half
What kind of monster would do this to her?
Her shattered splattered heart gave one final sigh
Was she dead then? I looked up to see her woman run toward it.
Be careful I cautioned her as she scooped it up
She was about to toss it into a brown sack with a McDonald’s logo
Please take this, I said, offering her my fur lined hat box
The pretty one with the rainbow cats on the outside.
She was startled. How long has it been since someone was kind to her?
She reached for the hatbox and our fingers touched.
If you need anything else, please let me know, I told her.
There were tears in her eyes; I knew I had reached her.
She was a beautiful woman, I saw her empathy in that moment.
What kind of monster did this to her?
The distinguished judge sat on the bench for many, many years.
He was highly esteemed and loved by his associates and his peers.
With great dignity he donned the robe of his honorable profession,
And with clarity and common sense made his rulings at each session.
The challenge of the law since a young attorney was his passion.
For those washed up on perilous shoals, he had great compassion.
Nervous young lawyers were blessed to have him hear their case.
He treated them with ego-boosting dignity and abundant grace.
An unpretentious county judge was all he ever aspired to be,
Upholding his solemn oath to serve the people of his community.
Dispensing justice fairly to the rich and penniless as well,
Interpreting the law as he saw it and in this he did excel!
He scrupulously observed the Constitution and the tenets it decreed,
And espoused The Golden Rule as a way to fully succeed.
He cautioned youngsters of the challenging life that lay ahead,
And to learn from mistakes and pursue productive lives instead.
His long-time and ever faithful Bailiff saw to his every need,
Taking care of all details no matter how small the deed.
Blind justice was a vision in his mind as he balanced the scale.
You see, the judge was legally blind, working with the aid of braille!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Mum used to cater
my every whim.
I was really spoilt
like a large catch of tuna
in the police station.
The local children were cautioned
against talking
to strangers about me.
That was why
I became celestial canopy
in the neighbourhood.
she pips in fear for lateness like her peers,
hauteur cloaked with reticence,
her-boo-boo-vague, though walled around and palpable
official Narcissist disguised in rude affronts
Bravado of naughtiness in candor yet tacit
“Free me free me”, rants in melancholy
as ignorance upsets sorts of sort
Insensibility of differentiate as angels often tastes the gall
By routines of cataract long glare
Sends nostalgia down their spines
Though forgetting the milk and candies of supposed rivals
Doubling as friends in conning angst beggarly in their nature
Nagging and ganging a gang of gossipers
Finding Mutual grounds for their victims
Causing higgledy where there exist no war
For a suspected compromise of morals
Or a hunting taint of a past paints on Z walls
Where decorum is not a schoolmaster
As official time wastes in visits to motels at un-break break time
With holy bible at desk view to mask hypocrisy
First venerable “Etis” Migrants tasted buds of vinegary as noised by witnessing chauffeur
And guilt cautioned not her thigh with avalanche of showy attire of a seductress
advertorials of “buried innocence”jagged in curved carbuncle front and back
Banging shoes in unending visits secreted in kitchen
double faced, loud calls to clients for managerial gratitude
as empty office fill vacuums of fast quickie (sharp-shap) appointments arranged or rearranged
Ill mannered, bad tempered not marriageable, never listen, never patient making enemies
Commandeering, verbose, self-conceited, presumptuous, stout and arrogant
Form:
The door was left ajar. He lay in bed, attired in my father’s wrapper. We wondered who he was. We have never seen someone lie in my father’s bed in the daytime. We were expecting to see the door locked. In our curiosity, we drew closer. He was fast asleep. He looked like our father but a lighter version. We have seen so many of his brothers – my father comes from a large family - but this one has a striking resemblance. They look like twins. We looked at each other startled.
“This must be Father’s brother,” my brother said. He continued, “The resemblance is just too much.”
I nodded.
“Where has he been?” I asked.
“I don’t know. How would I?” My brother replied.
“We have seen so many of his brothers but this I don’t think so,” I said.
My brother nodded.
He looked at us with keen interest. He cautioned us when we played beyond safety. He was indeed different. He acted like we were his children. It was later we knew that he was my father’s only sibling from the same parents. They haven’t been close since my father left his parental home. My father had told him that we were relocating to the state where he resides. My father had asked for his assistance in conveying our properties. He had gladly accepted the request. It was an opportunity to light up dying embers.
A few years later, my father departed. He had held my father’s hand through the troubled waters. He had journeyed with my father through the midnight holding the lamp. My father's hand was too feeble to hold onto his. The darkness was too dense for the lamp's light to shine through. They came to the end of the road. One transcended. The other was forlorn and distraught. He mourns his brother even to this day.
April 15, 2023.
A Visitor Poetry Contest,
Julia Ward.