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Ricky Muse Poem
waiting
with diaper on
for this woman to get up
off the kitchen floor and
stop bleeding while a man
hovers over her with grimace
and clinched fist
waiting
for our first-grade teacher
to stop crying
over the P.A. announcement
that the president
has just been assassinated
in Dallas
waiting
on the spirit of Christmas
to return days after the news
that mother's favorite song "You Send Me"
had just been shot and killed
a few blocks from our home
waiting
in the backseat of a Packard
for the policeman to stop screaming
at my father as urban soldiers
toss fire from their hands
in our neighborhood just outside of Watts
waiting
at LAX for Wilt the Stilt
to come back and finish
signing autographs after
some idiot just called him a freak
waiting
for the bowtie and scowl
to let go of my arm so I
can shake the hand of
the Greatest of All Time
as he starts his comeback
with an exhibition bout
in East Los Angeles
waiting
with eighteen-year-old trembling knees
for that sheriff deputy
to remove his pump action shotgun
from my temple
waiting
in the delivery room
for the wrong woman
to have my child
waiting
at a motel
for the right woman
to find the time
to slip away
waiting
on the side of
the ninety-one freeway
for a motorcade to pass
shortly after the funeral
of a former president
shamed by the Watergate scandal
waiting
and looking
while holding onto
the entry gate at 875 S. Bundy Dr.
for some sign of what really
happened that night
waiting
along with F.E.M.A. and the Red Cross
for the distraught woman
to come with us to safety
days after the Northridge earthquake
leveled her million-dollar home
waiting
at the hospital
for my first grandchild
to be born while her father
who's been convicted of battery
is nowhere to be found
waiting, waiting
seems like I'm always
waiting
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2017
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Ricky Muse Poem
I wondered what she was about to do
this image slowly hardened like cement
she sat erect upon the wooden stool
I gazed as if she were a monument
she placed her hands on the piano keys
a melody declared yes she could play
my daughter beckoned, "again 'nanna please"
mother smiled then continued to amaze
a bit of rust did show, but did not last
her Amazing Grace made us sing along
she played gospel with flair, a die was cast
this well-kept secret erupted in song
though sad for not hearing her play before
I silenced my grief then begged her for more
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2017
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Ricky Muse Poem
whether bound and dragged
behind a pick-up
‘til limbs slowly dismember
or shackled hand and foot
then tossed unsecured
into the back of a rolling
makeshift coffin
whether judge, jury or executioner
all don the same hat
and fancy themselves a God
and your only crime was to exist
in pigmentation unlike their own
let us not forget our tears
our laughter, our blood
our date with mortality
these common threads
that bind us
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2018
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Ricky Muse Poem
why is it easier to look at you
through one eye as opposed to two
when we should be totally
enamored with the thought
we have come this far
we of kin, but enemies of spirit
cannot go on this way
a desert of parched emotions
cherry wood furniture atop marble floors
transformed our home into
an oasis of tears and coffee
this trivial mirage under scathing sun light
left us grappling for sustenance
be it water or be it love
empathy should be our cry
but with grey hair for a crown
these life stories on our face
we joust over flashbacks
and weakened rungs
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2018
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Ricky Muse Poem
the skin that tingles when lips meet
will probably demand forever
but this heart that beats out of rhythm
from the touch of a dream
must say no to a blush and promises
instead I'm beholding to sacrifice
what cannot be laid down
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2017
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Ricky Muse Poem
morality
sits on the nose
of a bitter young man
she
picks up the phone
and dials
that call, that lure
from a feral hunter
to a wounded prey
soliciting capture
as I reach
for the ignoble
the knees, the elbows
the betwixt, the between
a door
to an orifice opens
revealing
our imminent doom
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2020
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Ricky Muse Poem
a knee, a neck, a symbol, a tool
the segregationist would be proud
fighting to breathe is a fight where
Vegas is covering all odds
let's lay our money and him down
the spittle, the pool on the ground
does not need to be explained, cleaned or vilified
this is America dammit where change
is not always the objective
where the unwritten far outweighs
the written rule of law
families bleed albeit slowly
that merciful hemorrhage
some swear isn't normal
let's riot shall we
let's set ablaze the constitution
that Letter from a Birmingham Jail
our Holy Bible
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2020
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Ricky Muse Poem
she enters the room gracefully
belying the heartache inside
her tale of loss floats through the air
like a windblown kite
a mother, child, and death
reduced to silhouettes
her vision rips a hole
where there should be love
from this pulpit
with its congregation of one
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2018
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Ricky Muse Poem
I the lonely poet whose words
spill out onto the page
like blood spatter at a crime scene
will knock at your door
books in my eyes hoping
you'll want to critique them
while others partake of tradition
I will bring cheese
summer sausage, and wine
quote Auden, Ginsberg, and Dove
'til the aurora strums the horizon
this rhythm inspires the wren
that melody signaling the dawn
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2020
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Ricky Muse Poem
outside the fire
you go left
not from fear, but roots
that stretch far beyond
the reach of family ties
inside the fire
I go right
and pray our heirs
find the wisdom of savants
much more to their liking
these sides have risen
a gap has been formed
the wedge between us
cries out for breast milk
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2023
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