I woke up from my slumber,
I even wear a cucumber,
I heard a timber,
What is simmer,
I don't have a glitter,
I know how to make it better,
With enough of sluther,
I am not a chatter,
My mind is not cluttered,
I admired a butler,
I am not honoured to be sudder,
A sudden beat to my heart,
I want to make it last,
A friend by the hand,
I know there is a land,
For me to spend,
I don't know what to lend,
I need to mend,
Is there a way to be kind,
I need to grind,
The local produce into a hind,
In my mind,
There is a line,
Which makes me a shine,
I do have to rhyme,
For that, I put on a thyme,
I could make it on time,
By then, it will be mine.
red meat that is so sweet
and yellow that's quite mellow
but before you imbibe, make sure black seeds are inside
from verdant fields to homely tables
to big juicers and smooth blenders
waste not, want not
how about a nice jolt of citrulline?
a flow of rind divine to the bloodstream
a marvelous gift to man
pulling the pressure down and pushing the energy up
three or four generous pieces down the chute
now it's time to drink up
BLACK RIND
The scorching sun can’t dilute it’s tone
The tears neither can wash the dark away
No cream does the blackening, it’s indigenous
Insects and flies pose no harm to the tar.
The colour that defines majesty and endurance
The complexion that holds the magic
The magic that pans deleterious effulgence
Being in forests, deserts, ice grounds……….,
The magic still remains
by Mashallo Samilo
We breathe the same air
and split the same bed
We share a last name
in silent lament
The children are out
new grandchildren named
But frozen emotion
has left us both lame
The sins of the one
to the other are death
In terminal sorrow
we take our last breaths
Time has no answer
and not often kind
Our inner fruit rotten
—just leaving the rind
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
A bitter rind of sorrow encapsulates my heart:
it insulates;
it separates.
Insensitive the laughing throng
regurgitates their song,
unknowing and uncaring,
blindly shoving me along.
A bitter rind of sorrow encapsulates my heart.
Copyright, 4/28/2014
Faye Gibson
Blocked in my bonded mind
I am trying to get away
Trying to peel away this rind
Left in nothing but dismay
I am thickened in the skull
My shell is very thick
And quite a nut to hull
You may need to use a stick
My mind is a loose cannon
Like a bomb set to blow
Just like that Roy O’Bannon
From Jackies movie show
You see I’m so blocked in
I bury all my emotion
How can I ever win
I’ve lost all my devotion
Just need to get it back
To fix all my emotion
Before these feelings stack
If I locate my mind
I’ll never let it go
It will be quite a find
But how will I know