Long Cousins Poems
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We were cousins and had grown up
Close friends, living not far apart.
When I was nine and he was eight,
(His sister and my brothers were younger)
We were going to get married
Some day and have ten children,
Ten dogs, ten cats, and ten horses.
We played on the park playground
(He broke his arm falling from a swing).
We climbed trees, played card games
And board games and soldiers, and
In summer our mothers and we
Cousins took the long trek by train
And boat to swim at Nantasket Beach
One day my father found a new job,
And we moved away, far from home
As we had always known it.
My cousins also moved away,
To another, farther place, so
For years we saw each other only
On holidays or special occasions.
Although we weren’t strangers,
We were never really that close again.
We grew older, married new sweethearts,
And started families of our own.
Of course we always made promises
On Christmas cards, “We really MUST
Get our families together this year!”
But it seemed only funerals or weddings,
A 90th birthday, or a 50th anniversary
Would find us once again together,
Reminiscing about the “good old days”
When we were all children, and
We were oblivious, and time
Seemed to stretch ahead into infinity.
We have lived nearer to each other
In the last few decades, but days
And years have drifted by. Often we’ve
Put off visiting ’til “tomorrow”.
Now we are grandparents, even great
Grandparents, we and our spouses
Suddenly surprised with health issues.
And so we wake to find tomorrow
Is not always a possible option!
Finally, next week, I WILL travel -
It’s not so far - to visit with my cousin,
His sister passed on, wife in the hospital.
He is not well, and she will not,
He tells me, leave the hospital.
Why, as years go by, do we always
Assume an endless supply of time?
We toss off, “See you next week”,
Or “We’ll get together next summer!”
But can we ever be sure of that?
Forget the excuses! Do it now!
We most regret the things we didn’t do!
CODA
We had finally made new plans to travel,
At last, to see my cousin Don
And, possibly, even his wife, Ginny.
We had bought the ferry tickets.
But the night before, a storm came up
And forced us to cancel our trip.
---------------------------
Tomorrow I will go to his funeral.
If cleanliness
thrives next to godliness,
could wealthy White Houses,
slick and in their capital-sucking groove,
survive when paired with homelessness?
This question presupposes
perhaps a radical view
that divine powers are more homeless
than secured behind military-industrialized,
greed capitalized,
plutocratic White Houses.
Is your god's aspirations
toward Earth's homeless sustainable revolution,
where outside is benign inside
and inside out vice-versa?
Or leaning more toward supplanting human nature's industrial needs
with politically self-empowering greeds--
gates closed against the rabble?
I suppose your god
could remain both egocentric
and become more ecocentric,
just as the White House
could remain a temporary shelter
for those empowered by co-empathic wisdom
of our humane species' ultimate homelessness
without a healthy Earth.
But, in White Houses of this sort,
the gates, if needed,
open from both sides.
The perimeter fence grows lower slower
which is not higher faster self-absorption.
The lawns North and South and East and West
extend toward all our homeless cousins,
Elders not yet burned and buried from healthy memory,
and those yet to become born from matriarchal wombs
into a more sustainable revolution
of shared homelessness.
Where Earth is home
sufficient for all,
or we all continue toward climates of homelessness
in gated Only White Houses Matter
of nationalistic greed
far surpassing Earth's need
for vulnerability and integrity
of a multiculturally homeless
co-messianic
co-redemptive
recreative bodhisattva warrior;
a reweaving god
of and for omnipotently co-operative love.
Black, white, asian and chinese,
are so called terms to describe people correct politically,
The N word and all other terms for degrading ethnicities,
are used to define people others hate in a manner most offensively.
All are offensive terms to use to describe anybody,
whether they are racial slurs or terms correct politically,
because all those terms do is re enforce the differences of everybody,
and does not re enforce the scientific fact that we are all the same genetically.
We are not only all the very same specie,
we are all related to one another genetically globally.
We are all for the most part cousins removed for generations directly,
making all of us one literal worldwide dysfunctional family.
You need not be a KKK member or even a white supremacist,
to qualify today to be a bonified racist,
all you need to be is someone who still believes in the "race" concept,
which science has proved does not exist among any of us.
If you look at others as being different, you are contributing to racism,
but I believe that harmony will occur when people start realizing,
that we are all just a bunch of the same homos, *****sapiens,
the only specie recorded with a direct connected genetic family strain.
As long as people continue to see each other differently and not the same,
we will always be living on some level, great or small, of practicing racism.
The first chirp of the robin near my shut window pleaded
The blackbird, song thrush, chiffchaff, and pheasant pleaded as well.
The sunflowers, cornflowers, and marigolds that needed
Prayed for his help; he was as silent as a silent spell.
Fishes, amphibians, reptiles, and weak invertebrates
Hares, squirrels, owls, puffins, swans, geese, and willow ptarmigan
Lions, leopards, tigers, elephants, and monkeys with rude traits
Prayed; the cosmos seemed as though curled. The sun's silence went on.
As playgrounds were snow-covered, in gloomy moods, children prayed.
Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, and cousins called. He said:
When I was shining, your minds seemed seismically swayed.
Can't you, when I am cool, with your inner warmth, march ahead?
Winter's whimsies play vehement games on the sun, so sure
Which element of nature, without him, can their wounds cure?
Star
Shiny Tinsel
Laughter sounds
Nirvana of Christmas
Grandma's house with cousins
Chasing and frolicking, glad to laugh
Gingerbread and cinnamon wafting around
Nirvana pure and simple, Christmas of my childhood
Amazingly beautiful bubble lights at Grandma’s are magical.
Drawing me like a Luna moth as their bubbles gurgled and floated.
Seeming to be brand new each Christmas, magical, mystical, and fresh.
sweet
lovely
pure
delight
in Jesus's
honor
The brothers are competitors
but they can be rivals
cousins are almost friends
But they could be the enemy...
relatives are the acquaintances
or they may be unknown
It truly depends on the occasion...
And from occasion the thief becomes!
Well, it all depends brother,
nothing in the world is flawless
but don't lose your control....
Family is always an arrangement
so have this in mind:
there is a normal, honorable family
and there is the rag family, sick...
And out of any breakdown
mother, always holy, father is an angel... !
Lamentable, the family gathering
on the other side of sunshine,
with possessions no longer bothering,
sans loving cups, draining of wine.
Great-grands, grands, aunts, uncles, cousins and unborn,
one mom, a nephew, memories
their perspectives (only they carry). Torn,
yellowed pages of treasuries.
Climbing steps, silver dollars, and finger gloves,
savory chicken and dumplings,
boat on the lake, seashells on velvet (these loves)
tricks and treats, some were just ducklings.
Soft hands, warmer heart; silver in corner chair;
the teaser (he died way too young)
To each I lift my thoughts - they are laid bare.
Kindly, ancestors, I’m among.
All, go the byway, to our destination.
What will our progeny recall?
What bouquet of ours sets forth sensation?
Together we’ll be, blessings fall.
Lacrimal vessels are filled - our love, fearsome.
Eyes salty and brightened.
Peace comes after tears, reveling in wisdom.
Capacity to care, heightened.
I don't need to remember what it was like to be a kid
I don' t need to memorize where all the fun had been .
It was in the unique moment of a first-born spirit
without obligations and responsibilities .
A Brief moment recalled and lived in a dream.
Immersed in the body of a little brown-eyed girl
How I danced with the flutter of a butterfly ,over and over again.
Dressed up neatly in a white collar shirt ,and a navy blue pinafore dress,
How I ran , breathlessly , in evergreen fields
full of yellow buttercups, dandelion buds, and almond trees
which barely blossomed through the eyes of women , and men .
How I jumped like a frog earning its freedom , doing my utmost to catch the sky,
to reach the soaring hand-made kite ,which kept moving far and high.
My left -hand never letting go of that special red balloon ,
Mama's reward , on a windy afternoon.
Each following morning, feet too tired to get out of bed
but that lasted only till' I saw Uncle Frans'hat.
How happy I was to sit on his lap ,, and listen to bible stories He read.
How happy I was , to lick early fresh raindrops running down
my cheeks,so different from the ones
I feel when I'm out of my sleep.
Moments to preserve. ..
There on the back seat of papa's olive- green car ,
Our Chitty -Chitty Bang- Bang , travelled so far.
Mum,dad, my brother and I ,face 'gainst the wind,
Open mouths , Indian sounds , humming along ,
waiting for birds'wings to flutter as they sing.
What a moment , of hide and seek,musical chairs ,
Of midnight mass and Christmas prayers .
I lived them all ....
Splashes of waves, shovel and buckets on sands ,
Autumn's foliage , picnics with cousins
uncles,aunties ,and friends.
Immersed in the body of a little girl
with long noichettes french -braids swaying in the breeze ,
Playing hopscotch,running wild in vacant cobbled streets.
I do not need to remember what it was like to be a kid
I am there, in the dream , I had lived .
I tasted pure honey before I'd been kissed
Before years took their toll , wiped off
sugar -frosted pink from my innocent lips .
We are all essentially African. That's where humanity first took birth.
Some then left Africa to populate every land mass on planet earth.
Those of us who remained in equatorial Africa kept our very dark protective skin.
It served as a natural sun block,
preventing harmful ultra violet rays from contaminating our bodies from within.
As we migrated closer to the poles we began to slowly depigmentize.
It was an evolutionary trade off, one might call evolutionarily wise.
The rays of the sun when closer to the poles
are not as harsh as in sub tropical Africa and the pole's climate is cold.
Where as in Africa we walked naked with our protective dark skin,
The poles were colder. We wore clothing over our slowly depigmentizing skin.
Depigmentizing all the quicker because of very little exposure to the sun at all.
Because we differ in skin color doesn't mean anything good or bad at all.
We were and still are all the same human specie, unlike our cousins, the extinct Neanderthal.
We are all *****sapiens. We are all the one and only Human Race.
In a nutshell, that says it all.
To All Hate Groups Out There and hate individuals too.
Be forewarned. Be aware. Your over due extinction is about to come true.
I speak for all with knowledge who have truly evolved too,
"We All Welcome The Extinction Of All The Ignorance Created By All Of You."
You should all welcome it too, so that all of you can truly, for the common good,
intellectually evolve too.
I’m fresh
Pristine.
Eager to Please
Fresh out of the grocery store shelves.
My beauty is sound.
My lines are crisp.
The prettiest of blues.
I am symmetrical and smart.
I feel pride as a hand picks up a pen.
Scribble scribble scribble scribble
It tickles, but I do not mind.
The face looks satisfied.
SCRATCH. SCRATCH. SCRATCH!
Ouch! That hurts.
I get ripped from my spine.
Hand crumples me into a wrinkled ball.
I am now being thrown onto the floor.
One of my prissy cousins arrives next.
She is also a crumpled ball.
What is going on? I ask Uncle Wilbur
As he comes flying down from the desk.
Things are not going well for this poet, he says.
No problem. We can be recycled again.
My brother Jed sails past us, in airplane form, making us laugh.