Savanna had the prettiest blue-black hair
Azure ebony, some call these fat ringlets
I watch her mesmerize the crowd
She is the quintessential fortune teller
Most want her attention – men and women
She has the best predictions,
Nothing gloomy or dire
No terrifying warnings
Her fortunes are given to the fairgoers lovingly
Her kindness is as prominent as her beauty
People feel her star power, wanting more
She gives all, and there is nothing better than that
I once met a man who said he was Santa
He was drinking a large strawberry Fanta,
He loved making a splash
In and out in a flash,
Last I heard he was moving to Savanna.
written December 20, 2021
Savanna was on this earth eight years.
She stood up for her friends, danced ballet,
Jumped out of an airplane with her dad.
Her laugh was excruciatingly wonderful
Almost everyone who met her enjoyed something
She was an artist, a painter, a cartoonist, a story teller.
She left twenty-one first cousins to mourn her.
Cancer took her away from them two weeks before she turned nine.
We tell her stories at every family event, remembering the joy she brought us.
The only person who does not join in on these stories is Aunt Vee.
Aunt Vee was never married, does not like people, and despises Christmas.
We invite her, and she came begrudgingly, adding a bit of dour.
In ninety-two years, I do not think she had ever done one thing for anyone else.
I skipped her funeral, even though I was in town.
She was despicable to me, and to others.
My sister attended. There were three of them. One of them was the priest.
There was a lady from Montana
Who fell in love with a banana,
Which had such an appeal
She felt urged to reveal
They planned to elope to Havana.
She rented a seaside cabana
Nested between beach and savanna.
At a party she threw
Came a Chiquita new
And the new two flew to Montana.
Have you heard?
The old bull elephant has left the herd
With a shuffling gait and weary eye
Underneath the savanna sky
Wandering off all alone
The Sun had spoken
It was time to come home
Can't you see?
The old bull elephant is finally free
His battle-scarred and furrowed hide
Concealed the pain that raged inside
Off he went so dignified
Tusks held high with royal pride
Vultures circling in the dawn
Signalled the herd it was time to move on
And the savanna sang a farewell song
The king is gone
The king is gone
The brave king is gone
I FEAST MY EYES UPON A HEARD.
I LAY AND WAIT WITHOUT A WORD.
SLOWLY, SLOWLY, I MADE MY WAY.
THE WILDEBEEST WILL BE MY PREY.
I SELECTED A FEW, AND THEN DOWN TO ONE.
LEAPED INTO ACTION AND STARTED TO RUN.
I SHORTENED MY DISTANCE WITH EVERY STRIDE.
IT TRIED TO ESCAPE BY GOING WIDE.
I ADJUSTED MY SPEED AND CHANGED MY DIRECTION.
I WOULD LIKE TO SAY, IT WAS A MOVE OF PERFECTION.
I COULD SENSE THE FEAR AS IT STARTED TO WEAK.
JUST A MATTER OF MINUTES BEFORE I CAN EAT.
FEELING FOCUSED READY TO POUNCE,
DOVE THROUGH THE AIR, FELT MYSELF BOUNCE.
LUCKY FOR ME MY TEETH WERE ATTACHED
TO THE WILDEBEEST NECK. MY DINNER AT LAST.
IT PUT UP A FIGHT,MAYBE MORE LIKE A STRUGGLE.
INCREASING MY APPETITE NEARLY BY DOUBLE.
ONE FINAL THING I'D LIKE TO SAY.
YOUNG WILDEBEEST MAKE A VERY FINE PREY.
I began to lose my mind
my friends I could not find
I was then taken by a man
who bought me another can
and promised me heaven
it was late after eleven
I was so drunk I could not see
he took me to his house free
I really got hammered
I got hammered very hard
In the morning I woke up
with scars like a make-up
a sign that I was raped
whole body was newly shaped
only to realize it was an unprotected
surely I am infected
I hate myself and I regret
and this I can never forget.
Drencho POET Loads
The air quivers
Scorching Savanna sunset
Lions seek their prey
From shore to shore coast to coast
We’re the nation with the most
The most of what well lets just see
We lead in infidelity
We lead in sin that is for sure
Pay on Sunday is the cure
I think about our Countries plight
Seems like we have lost all sight
We’re founded in the name of God
Best not be the lightening rod
When lightening strikes it is no joke
Some bears weren’t meant to poke
We poke God every single day
Have no doubt that we will pay
We can’t just mold and bend his word
Expect our prayers to be heard
Forgive me Lord for I have sinned
Words cast out unto the wind
It’s best to live the words you pray
Walking the walk as they say
The Lord gives he can take away
Listen to these words I say
Like monkeys swinging from the trees
We keep doing as we please
One day across our Savanna
Yes, we have no bananas
My punch line is, "Yes, we have no bananas."
All I can say is I tried.
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