Long Peanut Poems
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You came home from Quebec,
you were never alone;
your shadow chased you around town
like a dog in love or out of love.
They told me you have been to places
where flies sat conveniently on the ledges of your lips,
you've eaten ugali with your fingers, someone else's fingers,
soaked in saliva and the red juices of greens and beef liver
I remember you leaving Scott County to drive along the roads
of summer with green trees waving at you. You were famous.
You sent a picture of Niagara. Before a mirror,
I saw my eyes in the falls that should've lectured you,
then you sent Alberta dressed in flora and sunshine,
but before a mirror, I saw where sorrow dug trenches in my brow.
At sunsets, I watched the tired lights walked slowly westward like an old lady on quad cane ... and I forgot the sound of my name on your lips
When July entered our town with loud children, you were in Whistler. His mother is continuing in Paris,
and poor James, God rested his bones somewhere in London.
You killed me with Yellowknife when you spoke of the northern lights,
but not once questioned my lonesome nights in White Sulphur
where fresh winds licked the skirt of a White horse to ignite a horseplay
You say Saint John spoke proudly of Como,
so I searched the map to find you where you would sit to sip something
that spoke proudly of Campari Spritz.
I found Whistle Pig Stout.
Some nights, I'd search for you when my finger was tired of scooping peanut butter from a jar. I traced from Revelstoke to Squamish, then to Halifax,
but I found no lobsters big enough to keep you there.
You called about Ottawa, and I found Rideau Canal, a lazy river that still works for the people. You told me Tofino spoke proudly of Costa Del Sol,
so I searched the map to find you where you would drive along something that spoke proudly of Ruta del Sol y del Aguacate.
I found Chesterman Beach Road.
December drove you home, pulling down your dress
to cover the spots where the cold winds were touching you.
I am getting used to being single.
Written 03\28\20
43 American presidents since our founding. Living history, alive and well in 5 living ex-presidents. If individually good enough to become a US president, what could they accomplish as collective and unified minds?
Are they not a treasure house of history, wisdom, and experience?
***********************************************************
*Mr. Carter(1976-80) He was a successful peanut farmer, and a Governor. Now, a brief condensed version of his 4 year presidency: Change the heart; Being born again; Tell no lies; Surprised at The Soviet Union for invading Afghanistan; Fought hard for peace in the Middle East and won the Noble Peace Prize, but lost the Peace; Iran: Could not bring the hostages home.
**********************************************************
Five ex presidents, still alive to shape, to show, and to tell their own story. And their own history of 4 to 8 years is part of the same history of America. Are they not also a collective institution, a museum, as well as a library? Away from the Oval Office, are they being utilized for the cause of peace?
********************************************************* **Mr. Bush 1(1988-92) And now, a brief condensed version of his 4 year Presidency: New World Order; Read my lips; No New Taxes; Manuel Noriega; Panama; Saddam Hussein; Iraq And Desert Storm.
*************************************************************
09222017 PS
*The listing order of Presidents is purely chronological
**Mr. Reagan followed Mr. Carter, but he is not a living ex-president
my right
respect my right
if you want to be my friend
except you don't care
but be sure my right
I will never ever gave up
for you
your intimidation
your torture
your disrespect
may be your own opinion
is obvious that is your way
yet my right can't be taken away
by those pains you inflict on my body
at the end my right is
my right
my right
respect my right
if you want to be my friend
is obvious we live in a selfish world
where care is lesser than before
each sunset
on broad day light
atrocities are committed
like is normal
our usual life are so sow
in a tinkle of an eye
who is to blame
when our right are no more
a reality
when our destines are sold
for peanut on daily bases
so when I fight don't judge
me in a hurry
cos if you can see
the realities in our third world
you will understand
why I must fight for
my right
my right
respect my right
if you want to be my friend
but who cares in a wild world
a world were babies are left
to grow in hunger and starvation
a world were our mothers bleeds in poverty
a world were our resources are
only for the corrupt cabals
a world were crimes are a way
of life like a normal basic job
a world were the innocent are
killed to keep criminals in power
what a world
I wonder how could my right
be respected in this kind of world
I don't need to be told to stand for my
right cos is obvious
in this part of the world
my right must be so hard
yet my right is
my right
my right
respect my right
if you want to be my friend
cos this fire burning in
our dear homes communities
countries
needs a water of peace
is sad that people will
always be who they are
but what is good is good
our demands are simple
yet our realities are hard
confusion are always common
on our common sense
cos the illusion of truth
has stolen our right
devalued our dignity
no wonder our last hope
are always prayers
even when dying slowly
in lies and manipulation
is hard to know the truth
cos too many truths in lies
has taken away our truth
denying us our right
teaching us to accept lesser
than our value
when you disagree
you become a victim
who always must fight
for his right
so in this quest I
am not exceptional
so as every human
cos my right must always be
my right
24 hours to live…I need to hurry and come up with a plan
It’s only right to “worry” because I haven’t been half the man
23 hours to live…An hour gone by, I wanna break down and cry;
Because I know with twenty-three hours to go, and I will die!
22 hours to live…I sat down to make amends with my Mother
While I was there, although he didn’t care, I asked forgiveness from my brother.
I forgave my Mother and she forgave me;
18 hours to live…I called my uncle and aunts to tell them I hate what we have gone through.
16 hours to live…I visited my sister and we reminisced about growing up together
The fights, the fun; the tears and laughter will be cherished forever!
18 hours to live…I visited my Momma’s grave, and told her I’d be seeing her soon.
I then placed a white rose I chose, on her headstone and cried that afternoon
13 hours to live…I called up each one of my baby girls and asked them to come see me
I told them they were my world and asked them to accept my apology
I spent five hours with my daughters ‘because I had so much to say
I told them about life and the birds and the bees; about the importance of an
Education, sacrifice and family.
I kissed and held Jasmine, Brianna and Lillian, then told them they had to go;
I reminded them to always pray, ‘cause there will come a day, when I’ll see
Them again, beyond the rainbow!
8 hours to live…My Peanut Butter came over and we made passionate love like never Before.
I told her she was my best friend and her love I’ll always adore.
We held one another, kissed, touched, laughed as the hours ticked by.
I got out of bed, kissed her forehead and for once I was the one to cry!
She then left the house knowing I needed to be alone
I couldn’t help but notice the time and my racing heart beneath my breastbone!
3 hours to live…Alone in my room, I fell to my knees
I prayed to my God to heal me my spiritual disease
I asked for forgiveness for all the sins I’ve ever done
I even asked God if he would make it his business to accept me as his son
I prayed, I talked to Him well into the final hour
0 hours to live…No more pain. I felt my life force drain
And then awoke in Heaven surrounded by white flowers!!!
Note: Entry for Waylayee Whitlock's "If I had One Last Day To Live" Contest
While looking for Elvis
Met Nessie in Loch Ness
Hoarding a leprechauns pot of gold
While getting ready to depart
I tripped over the Lost Ark
In the baggage of a hitchhiking Pharaoh
Thought I had got lost in flight
Stumble into Camelot at night
King Arthur shooting Robin Hood's arrows
Little green men from Mars
Battling a dragon with bumper cars
Jumping on my unicorn I rode
Diving into the Ocean
The mermaids gave me notions
My search for Elvis was getting cold
Swam down to Atlantis in the Atlantic
Dine at Poseidon's banquet
He had a big Roman nose
Cruising the Devil's Triangle
Being careful for any angle
I try to assassinate Castro
No money for the Florida toll booth
I wander into the Flountain of Youth
I look much younger so I'm told
On my way to Colorado
I kiss the Indian Princess of El Dorado
They can keep their entire treasure load
I saw Jimmy Hoffa eating a hot dog
While sitting with Big Foot on a redwood log
They were both getting pretty old
Went over to Memphis
Back through Las Vegas
My search for Elvis was about to fold
Than an angel named Gabriel
Told me about the new guy down at the stable
So I flew off to Shangri-la with pilot Joe
Our wings iced without warning
Damn this damn Global warming
Flying over Santa and a Chinese Viking Eskimo
We crashed landed in Xanadu
Met a few people we both knew
But Elvis left so I was told
With my new friend Yeti
We shared a big bowl of spaghetti
Amelia Earhart cooked and sold
Round the Garden of Eden
I traded an apple for freedom
From the lost tribes of Isreal though
On Mount Olympus I heard singing
The voice of Elvis reigning
I found the King of Rock and Roll
We ate a fried banana peanut butter sandwich
Elvis offer me the last bite of his sandwich
I politely refused I couldn't be so bold
Before I could ask Elvis as such
He rose and said "Thank you very much"
The answers I needed were put on hold
"Beam me up Scottie" he quipped
Than in a flash he was on the Mother Ship
And I turn and saw my friend little Moe
Area 51 is where that saucer came from
In Noah's Ark we drank wine and hard rum
Finding Elvis I am no hero
Looking for Elvis is half the fun
Its the trip that ends where it begun
Down in Dallas on a grassy knoll
Day one out of the womb – had a full crop of hair,
black like my daddy’s (it later went more fair).
Early childhood – Mom kept my brown hair short
because I’d twist it into knots. What a silly sport.
Peanut butter and some gum in my hair might stick.
Never a long hair style could I ever pick.
Pre-teen years – at last I saw my dark hair grow.
Pony tails and pig tails were ways my hair might show.
Junior High, late 60’s, hair piled high like a hive.
A wonder that no bumble bees were seen in there alive.
My hair was also parted always on one side.
I’d wear curlers in a store. Did I have no pride?
High school days – hair longer. In boring math at school,
I sat there pulling off split ends. Must have looked a fool!
College days – used a cheap product from the store.
“Sun-In” gave me reddish-blonde. I used it four times more.
The 80’s – got a perm. The curls were tight. Had oodles.
Now I can have sympathy for cockapoos and poodles.
90’s – used extensions. A lot of folks I fooled.
Strawberry blonde seemed to be the color then that ruled.
New century. New color. My hair was very blonde.
There were two guys in a tram in Rio that I conned.
My friend who looked American knew every word they stated.
About my natural color those guys in Portugese debated.
They finally decided my blonde was natural.
I got a kick out of those young fellows’ folderol.
Later on, my hair got over-bleached. I showered, and
lots of strands of it crumbled right into my hand.
After that, while growing out dark roots about two years,
I wore a wig until uncolored hair went past my ears.
A co-worker , not knowing I wore a wig at school,
told me that my hair had never looked so cool!
By 2010, my hair was in a rut.
Only one side of it grew, so I’d always get it cut.
Turned 60 and got cancer. Ate better to be stronger.
Miraculously my hair AND nails grew a whole lot longer.
Since then till now, my daughter’s been my dear beautician.
She keeps the gray away and my hair in good condition.
Were my hair not dyed, salt and pepper it would be.
I love my gold-like hair, thick, and long and wavy.
Some people think a woman of my age should wear a shorter “do.”
Decades it took to get this look, so NO (and I’ll keep my cute bangs too!)
It amazes me
They say all men were created equally
But that’s denied throughout history
Theirs starts with constitutions revolutions and bravery
They tell us ours is gangs chains and slavery
It’s pretentious
And I’m offended
You started the race just so you could win it
And they did…well they did
Until we realized that an eagle can’t be judge by its ability to be a pig
False metrics
A ruler being held by media outlets rendering our image helpless
They narrate that our great minds are bipolar, out of order or just selfish
Encourage us to swallow your dreams
Beat our women , eat our young and wash it down with the tiniest sips from their revenue stream
And we say nah
Trick no good
Ms Maya Angelo knew
Sojourner too cause Rosa didn’t move so Mlk can spread the truth
I’m not the smartest man on earth but if I wanna change how history looks
The first thing ima change is what’s explained in our history…books
Long live Babylon America the great its the M night Shyamalan planet of the Apes
Long live Babylon America the great its the M night Shyamalan planet of the Apes
Here’s the plan it’s no secret raise your hand and give the answer I agree with
Concentration of Indoctrination now we consider him a genius
Don’t let him look into why Malcolm X wanted to separate
Keep him chasing his tail in circles as we continue to legislate
Tell the only ones that’s special are the ones that did something first
Ignore the names of those that change what was broke but now works
You know what’ll really knock ‘em out of competition?!
Tell ‘em their role models are ball players and musicians
Let’s assassinate all they’re leaders and complain they’re all directionless
Police Kill off they’re strong men n women even though they are weaponless
But keep the freaks in the sheets cuz they women are the sexiest
Add dope to their communities break down the family structure
So it’s really sister Vs sister and brother Vs brother
Father out the home is more pressure for the mother
Strong and independent makes her think a pb and j can be jelly without peanut butter
So what makes you think I want a calendar with 28 days
With 28 names
Of 28 slaves
Lead to 28 graves? I think …..We’d rather have our 40 acres…
Homeward Bound
Land of mango and avocado
Sweet , mild and refreshing
Cassava bread with tea, coffee and hot cocoa
Fresh meaty young coconut
It’s water crisp and refreshing
Glazed peanut, cashew and coconut for a quick snack or dessert
Spaghetti with herring or hot dog for breakfast
Large tart grapefruit topped with sugar crystals and eaten with a metal spoon
Killed a butterfly
Folded it in half
Pressed against its wings
It fell apart
Grandma chased me with a bowl of medicine
A liquified leafy concussion
To clean my insides out
Stepped on a ball of thorn
My foot slowed me down
And the neighborhood kids caught me for grandma
Was stung by a bee in the belly button
Crossed rivers barefoot
Watched black crab crawl across a small body of water
And tiny fish swam in a little pond
Skinny and gray were they
My cousins and I rolled handkerchiefs into figures
We got in trouble together, too
A long walk on foot
Left us late for school
Once late , on our knees we were preyed Hot and sticky was our whip
Lashed were our backs
At bath time , mama saw my back
red and black with strikes
Left furious ,
Angry and out of breath ,she advised my teacher and school masters
That I am but a child
And not an animal in the wild
Another time, I was struck by a bull on my way to school
A big, black bull tied to a tree , loosened itself free and charged at me
With its horns it grabbed my frail little frame in between mama and great uncle
I was tossed
I opened my eyes and was at the hospital
My great uncle rode a motorcycle and dined with me and grandma
He gave me a large slice of avocado to eat with my plantain and sauce
The blacked out city
Was lost in the dark
On the countryside moon is streetlight
On roof tops made of aluminum
Boys flew kites
Plastic bags and spare tree branches
they combined
Spun tops are made with lime and pick
A bucket of rain to bathe
A black hole in the ground
For feces
Clothes washed in the river
Line dried outside the house
Some bathe
Some bring donkey to graze
Its dung fall in between the waves
Some to wash their tresses
Like my godmother did to mine
Marckincia Jean
Narrative
07/13/19
(Mimic the song..."If I Only Had A Brain" by the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz)
I could be so independent
So lavish and resplendent
Just a player in the game
I would wield mighty powers
And be mesmerized for hours
If I only knew my name
Oh nothing's getting clearer
This stranger in the mirror
Every day it's just the same
I don't think I'm Richard Nixon
It's my brain that needs a fixin'
If I only knew my name
I must have washed up on the shore
I'm not in Kansas anymore
Tell me who am I to blame
Am I a winner or a loser
Am I sober or a boozer
If I only knew my name
Who's my father and my mother
Have I sister and a brother
To remember is the aim
Was I born just an orphan
Or was I metamorphin'
If I only knew my name
Were there starlets I was meetin'
Or did I take a beatin'
A sad history or fame
Did I grow up in the gutter
Only eating peanut butter
If I only knew my name
It would be an inspiration
If I got an invitation
By the Queen or Royal Dame
All my senses would be tinglin'
When they crowned me King of England
If I only knew my name
Would I do it all for spite
Is it wrong or is it right
Let me tell you it's a shame
Do I love 'em or I hate 'em
Is that my one ultimatum
If I only knew my name
I would wave my country's banners
And practice proper manners
Not to do so is so lame
I would call no gal a heifer
Or a guy a mother effer
If I only knew my name
Am I a true brainiac
Or a total maniac
This confusion I must tame
I may need some absolution
In a mental institution
If I only knew my name
From the summer through the fall
I kept trying to recall
But the memory never came
Am I coming am I going
There's just no way of knowing
If I only knew my name
When I stand I'm dizzy still
There has got to be a pill
Guess I may go down in flame
This must be some strange disease
Won't somebody help me please
If I only knew my name
Well I feel so out of place
I want to join the human race
So now I'm here to stake my claim
And I'm hopin' and believin'
That one day this fog is leavin'
If I only knew my name
This revolutionary fella followed by
Adams family patriarch,giving rise
twin heir (plain lee gifted "Renaissance
Man") Jeff force'n without hemming
and hawing, subsequently conceding
nexus (nor horse drawn Lexus) of Colonial
power to Madison, thence Monroe
buttoned up as suitable candidate after
which younger Adams elected.
Thirty four followed Jackson's club
trumpeting (some Obama nib bully)
bushwhacking their way predicated
on faulty Algorithm, charming
charismatically with hint of Clint
like glint in eyes, blinding populace,
sans ray gun (Reagan), Car Tour ring
with peanut gallery in tow, affording
(unpopularly pardoning unfashionably),
a Jerry rigged nixed son, followed
by John's son tainted by stain of Vietnam,
but with said Southeast Asian debacle,
one ken heady (sporting thick styled hair)
inherited an internecine conflict, essentially
precipitated, when Eisenhower hardened
political stance against any allies of the
Soviet Union, (sans The Viet Cong), and
pledged his firm support to Diem
and South Vietnam.
Now with preceding administration, one
harried true man unleashed advent of atomic
spectra upon Hiroshima, and Nagasaki, this
purported preemptive measure scary ruse
felt to thwart exaggerated Japanese government
threat (military intelligence) scheming to
wreak untold havoc upon American troops
within the Pacific theater of World War II.
The former horrific decision controversial,
then and to this day Hoover expert historian,
diverge, asper corroborating the necessity
to usher in the Cold War, yet majority foreign
policy wonks might grudgingly attest that
said thirty first commander in chief did maintain
a Cool Edge throughout onset when doomsday
clock began countdown to Armageddon,
an unimaginably blaring, deafening, earsplitting...
cacophony distant rumbles heard, nonetheless,
no Hard dinning ghoulish nightmare (potentially
obliterating all life on planet Earth) haunted
Wilson, nor Taft, only gunboat diplomacy
mere child's play exhorted, less catastrophic
comparison, when Teddy Roosevelt wielded
"big stick schtick" namesake corollary to the
Monroe Doctrine in 1904...ad nauseum.