He'd rise every morning and put on his overalls.
Kiss the cook,sit at the table, and look at all there was to offer.
Then he'd break the biscuit pour the gravy have some bacon and some eggs,
pour the coffee that was so hot and sip it from his saucer.
And when the meal was over he'd head out to the shed
to make something with his hands from a pattern in his head.
Then he'd take a break have a chew and spit it in an can. All the while humming a song with a hammer in his hand. - Papaws day.
Categories:
papaws, grandfather,
Form: Ode
Even before birth, she was bedeviled with claws,
Her dark skin still dry even when it rains and pours,
Leaning forward she tries to cut the African papaws;
Through it all, under the full moon she was.
It was sad when they beheaded the outlaws,
Their culture never stood on a pause.
Obeying the elders, her heart misses the one she loves;
Through it all, under the full moon she was.
The nights silence let her know that a bee can buzz,
the moon drifts, inevitable was the cause.
She regretted the day tradition labelled her family outlaws;
Through it all, under the full moon she was.
Categories:
papaws, black african american, sad,
Form: Narrative
To know me, know that my name is mine.
accept me as I am, please be kind.
Don't try to change, my way of thinking.
who I love, or anything linking.
Don't rant and rave, or yell at me.
I used to sit on papaw's knee.
I used to go with daddy to fish.
Seeing Grandma and Papaws my only wish.
But don't change my name, or love me less.
I don't need the added stress.
I'am somebody, I'm Christopher.
I want things back, the way they were.
Categories:
papaws, childhood, me,
Form: Dramatic Monologue