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Betty Robinson Poem
He was skipping along, swinging his arms and laughing
At what I don't know.
His grandmother, lagging a few steps behind, was laughing at him I suppose.
And I thought to myself, she loves him, she does,
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
He stopped when he got to the corner and waited for me to turn right.
A smile crossed his lips,
As he waved at me - at me and my shabby old car.
And when I had passed him, he started to prance quite merrily on his way.
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
The confidence of youth flowed joyfully through him,
Just looking at him made me smile.
And you know what I did? I pulled to the curb and parked my silly old car.
I watched for a while as he started to run and then charge on out of sight.
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
How old he was then, I'm really not sure, Maybe five, maybe six,
Not yet Seven.
But ageless his quest to embrace this life whatever might come his way.
A sadness crept into my heart just then for I knew life would never be fair to
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
It will be harder for him to be special. The color of his skin will not help.
I wish I could be there
To tell him be careful, stay safe in this white man's domain.
But maybe the people he'll meet in his life will let him be just who he is
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2021
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Betty Robinson Poem
There must be a place to find a smiling face,
To share some joy each day just in being.
Never, though I search, through this scary place
Is there just one smile I'm seeing.
Will I ever find a place where I belong,
Where faces smile 'stead of frowning?
Is it really me who's always in the wrong?
Oh why, oh why don't I belong?
Different I may be, but how are they to see
When never do they try to know me?
Can't they ever see, when they look at me,
Someone wanting to belong?
Silly tricks I play, are just to find a way
To show them I'm alive and breathing.
Deep within my heart, I live alone, apart.
Oh why, oh why don't I belong?
There must be somewhere
Someone who'd really care
And see beyond this mask I'm wearing.
Magic that I do, all my powers too
I would gladly give to you.
If you'd only love me,
If you'd only hold me,
Maybe just a smile would do it.
There must be a place to find a smiling face
And know at last that I belong.
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2021
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Betty Robinson Poem
A fog moved in as we floated on a raft in the middle of a licorice ocean
and friends began dropping off into the sea swimming towards land I could not see and I wanted to go with them but I was afraid and then I tried but something held me back and plunged me from the raft onto the bottom of the ocean were I stayed for awhile drowning until a molasses fog wrapped itself round me and we floated slowly to the surface huddled together mourning, waiting for morning to come.
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2021
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Betty Robinson Poem
What if we'd met at Jackson Memorial in the neonatal ward,
Placed ever so gently, side by side, facing the outside world?
And our parents and relatives and friends they had
Giggled thru an over sized window
And waved and pointed and cooed at us,
Two tiny babies in little pink blankets with silly hats on our heads.
The joy of our grandparents. The meaning to life.
Heirs to the family misfortunes.
We Separate-ly, Equal-ly, Together-ly went home to be loved by all.
And walking and talking and learning to trust
Were taught in our childhood years.
And you learned to sing, "Amazing Grace"
At the A.M.E Church on the corner
And I learned to sing, "Amazing Grace"
At the Baptist church on the square.
We gossiped together each morning and "double dutch-ed" at lunch.
You angled me through geometry class as I read you through English Lit.
I cheered when you made cheerleader and you cried when I didn't.
We laughed when I made Homecoming Queen,
Went to Macy's and picked out a dress.
Then the day finally came, with diplomas in hand,
Throwing caution to the wind,
We Separate-ly, Equal-ly, Together-ly plunged into the outside world.
And through the years, no matter what, we stayed friends to the bitter end.
As husbands came and husbands went and the world grew up around us.
We loved and prayed and raised our babies.
We shared our families' misfortunes.
Together we sang "Amazing Grace" when people we loved went Home.
And never once in all that time did we ever look askance
That you are a woman of color and I am some shade of white.
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2021
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Betty Robinson Poem
Let's do dinner tonight at the Covid 19, the hottest new restaurant in town.
We won't need a face mask, we'll sit with a crowd and dine on Pandemic Stew.
We'll start with a creamy White Supremacist Broth served with Storm Trooper
Croutons
And then there's a cocktail of rare Racial Strife heaped up on a bed of Brutality Ice.
For dessert, there's an End of Democracy Cake infused with Suppressions to Vote,
From the bar we can order a Vodka con Putin dumped into a large Diet Coke.
There's no entertainment, the band has left town but there's reruns of Trump Photo Ops.
There's a two for one special that's running this week, no need for cash on The Spot
'Cause the sign on the door makes it perfectly clear, "Your Soul of America card Welcomed here".
Shall we go there tonight to the Covid 19 and dine on Pandemic Stew
And not wear a face mask and sit with a crowd?
Depends on what life means to you - it's to die for!!
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2021
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Betty Robinson Poem
Wherever Your spirit Dwells My Mother
I'm sorry that in our time mental illness was so carefully hidden
a Christian's cross to bear - no cure under Heaven
Until it was too late.
Hell! Now days there's a bipolar milk shake to help you get out of bed.
I'm sorry no one heard your pain, that dad was too busy being a Preacher
that my sisters and I were too busy growing up.
You lived a sad life upon this planet.
You never really got to know your children
haunted by a childhood your could not forgive
you struggled to find meaning in a world of foster care.
You could not get beyond yourself and learn to trust.
Your last days were spent in anger
hitting out at any one still hanging in there with you.
I need you to know that your life was not wasted my Mother,
for you taught me how to live my life.
Those hours sitting at your side watching you smoke and drink coffee
hearing the stories over and over again of the sadness of your life
and the country western songs of woe you sang so beautifully
I learned to listen. I learned to be compassionate. I learned to care.
You took me to my first opera, my first Broadway musical
you made me beautiful clothes and taught me how to sew
you showed me how to decorate a home and love a dog.
You taught me the value of kind words, how to know when to be still.
You taught me that laughter heals almost all wounds and
to be thankful for every happy moment that comes along
no matter how short a time that might be.
So this Mother's Day, Wherever Your spirit Dwells My Mother
thank you for my life. I love you now and always. Happy Mother's Day.
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2021
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Betty Robinson Poem
Around the corner and down the block of the last street but one
in a dusty rose chair of faded glory on the lawn of a lemon hued home
regal in red plaid pajamas sits The Countess of Norwood Court.
Surveying her subjects each morning at 9:15 on the dot
she sips on a mug of coffee while a cigarette longs to be puffed
and she waves to me and Itzy the dog as we come strolling her way.
She turns her gaze upon Itzy and speaks of a dog she once loved
LuLu the miniature schnauzer whose bark it is said shattered glass
but now she's mistress to kitties they don't need her to go for a walk.
I'm convinced she's an ex Vegas show girl her boyfriend a mafia boss
a witness protection program has moved her here to be with us
driving a Ford instead of a Rolls to protect the life she once knew.
For she can not be just an old lady with cats and COPD
I'd love to hear her adventures the stories that colored her life
but I've conjured up her life's flow and a change will not work for me.
So we'll visit the countess each AM at 9:15 on the dot
she'll happily wave and give us a smile as she sends us on our way
regal in red plaid pajamas sipping coffee having a smoke
Long live my Countess, The Countess of Norwood Court
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2021
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Betty Robinson Poem
Did you come into my life for a Moment
When a veil of friendship drifted on a breeze?
With a soul's felt smile between us
Did we make each other's day?
Did you come into my life for a Season
To share the wonderment of Spring?
When the darkness comes and my sun goes out
Will you then be on your way?
Or, did you come into my life for a Lifetime
To forever laugh and cry with me?
'Cause I'm here for you in this Lifetime
And with you, my friend, I'll ever be.
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2021
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Betty Robinson Poem
How did this happen? Did someone ask me?
No they didn't. No warning. Not one!
They could have sent emails or maybe a tweet hinting,
"5o years young you are not."
Well, I guess there were warnings,
Ads sent in the mail like for hearing aids, stool softeners and such.
But nobody asked my permission, I'm sure.
It's not written down anywhere.
And you better believe my reply would have been,
"Forget it! Not ever!! Not ME!!!
'Cause you know what would happen? I know this is true,
I'd not stay the me that is ME.
And slowly and surely and sadly you'd hear,
"SHE WAS..." What? Forget it, SHE IS!
So don't you go looking at a place for this mom
Never call me, Miss Minnie, my friend!
Just laugh at my jokes and remember I'm wise.
You've not heard the best of me yet.
I'll keep my hair red and my nails a nice blue
'Cause my heart and my soul like it so.
Let me live out my life in the way I know best,
Never young. Never old. Ever ME!
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2021
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Betty Robinson Poem
When I was a kid and school was out, I'd rush home for milk and cookies.
And mom would give me a note and some money to run an errand for her.
But first I'd bike down this long steep ill behind the house where we lived,
down I'd go lickety split, free as a bird on the wing, faster, faster, faster still,
never thinking of using the brakes, a childhood thrill, I fearlessly plunged
down to the road below.
I'd fly through the streets to the grocery store to see what they had to offer,
sometimes flour, sometimes shortening and sometimes my favorite, SUGAR.
I'd hide them among the brooms and mops for no one would ever look there
and after work, with his ration book, dad would rescue my hidden treasures.
It was wartime, you see, in America. Everything worth having was rationed.
From the grocery store to the drug store, mom's note and money in hand,
imagine this, with a note to the druggist and no questions asked of me, I was handed a carton of Old Golds and matches concealed in a brown paper bag.
Then came my reward, at the soda fountain, I'd sip on a large cherry coke
and on the way out, with two pennies left, buy a pack of caramels to go.
Free as a breeze, I'd ride happily home just make it in time for our dinner.
Then out to hopscotch with neighborhood friends or roller skate down the
street. We'd play until dark and time to go home, no need to ever call us
cause the Lone Ranger was about to come on and we had to be there in time
to sit transfixed by the radio as our hero saved the West.
Copyright © Betty Robinson | Year Posted 2022
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