Posts for June 7, 2020 (page 5)

Cooked every recipe I ever knew
And some I knew never to be
Read every cookbook I ever had
Hoping to find the right key
A food that would help find 
Just the right spot
So ‘self’ doesn’t feel so alone
A place that they say
You can never return
That long ago place called home.

I cooked curries and chowders
Grilled cheese with ham
Lamb shank and pork chops
With lots of mint jam

Polish Kielbasa
With beet/horseradish sauce
It was a strange color
Looked like purple moss

Oysters with fresh lemon
Juice squeezed right in
Tuna and sardines 
Right from the tin…

Rock Cornish game hen
With small sweet green peas
Pizza with mushrooms
And of course, lots of cheese

Crock potted stews
And spaghetti with sauce
Homemade of course
And salads you toss

Brown beans with hot dogs
Slaw and some chips
Fried fish in a box
With sauces you dip

Then I remembered 
A long time ago
Mother making a sandwich
As Dad turned to go

It slid in his pocket 
Waxed paper to fresh
Bologna on pumpernickel
And wouldn’t you guess

That was the ‘dish’
I was hoping to find
To help still the lonely
And give peace of mind

Not very nutritious
But I won’t eat much
I just needed a time
I could reach back and touch.

I got little
bug and flower-
shaped studs
to go with
my bandanas
because
anything else
could break
off into
the garnish bar
and now I never
wear them
and I cut up 
my bandanas
and hairbands
and pin them
just right
like I used to
restrain my hair
and feed them
to the sewing machine
chompchompchomp
to make a pocket
for the droplets

We have always had a basement since
we started living together,
a place to store and stash items
we aren’t sure what to do with,
pants that don’t fit now but
might again someday, 
enough Raisin Bran for the apocalypse,
toys and bikes our daughter no longer
plays with or likely remembers,
photos and artwork we had hung in prior houses but
don’t go in this one.
I fantasize about a life where
we only have within reach
what we use and love,
and we burn the rest. 

•My name is your favorite place

•I am not really interested in seeing
what a great person would be doing
but i will be a wonderful time for you

•My age is the perfect day

•I live with a different perspective and
it is worth a bit more
than the most important part of the story

•I was born in an epic game of this world we got

•My body is a mood

•I enjoy
playing the rainbow

•My ideal partner is the best way for me

•I’m attracted to y’all
but it’s not too hard to get a hold on my head

Wind tumbling through 
knocking over all 
in its path. Temperatures
spiraling down,

there’s a storm brewing.

As the small drops
merge into ginormous clumps,
the scooter you left 
in the lawn 
begins to rot. 

The pitch black
only illuminated
by those jagged
white arrows
paired with clashing
so loud
dogs are howling 
back. 

Feeling the house 
begin to shake,
the screen-door cries
out for help.

Small chirps emerge 
from the back porch.
The dozen or so
wind chimes your grandmother 
insisted on hanging
sing to the storm.
—

Sun beams beating heavily 
creating a perfect 
ring, like an umbrella,
inhibiting any rogue pellets 
from striking 
your grandmother

displaying your favorite chime 
decorated with cherry red
cardinals.

When you say #AllLivesMatter
I hear that only lives like yours matter

Begging the question…weren’t you once
A young child like Aiyana Jones or Tamir Rice
With parents like Pamela Turner or Keith Scott?

When you say #AllLivesMatter
I hear that only lives like yours matter

Begging the question…don’t you have
Dreams like Breonna Taylor and Jordan Davis
Lives like Atatiana Jefferson and Botham Jean?

When you say #AllLivesMatter
I hear that only lives like yours matter

Begging the question…don’t you know
Neighbors like Sandra Bland and Philando Castile
People like Yvette Smith and Jonathan Ferrell

When you say #AllLivesMatter
That should include all the lives like yours and so much more

Alchemy is sifting dry ingredients into,
The mush of wet, to stir and stir,
And hope to dissolve, mix, combine,
Sending complex particles to heat,
And rise, or hope to rise,
To create and wait,
Then create some more,
Then wait some more,
Nearly ad infinitum.
The cakes cooling on plates,
Because we have no racks,
No proper tools,
Doing the best we are able,
Because this work is important. 
(Tribal, ancient hands building the fire,
Boiling the cauldrons, waving the smoke,
In signals for gathering and feast.)
Reductions simmering,
Making paste from solids,
Turning almost nothing into a fully,
Complete something.
Hopefully something.
(A ritualistic dance being done from,
Counter to counter,
The timer the beat of a drum.)
Oh, please turn out like magic,
That will entice the company of others.

Alchemy has nothing to do with gold,
But everything to do with curing the pit,
Of loneliness that we host in,
Each of our concaving stomachs and,
Subsequently,
Our concaving, hungry hearts.

When I was eight, Grandma Clara initiated me
in her wild side yard garden, a raised bed eye-level,

fronted by a composite wall embedded with shells
and colored pebbles the sun gleamed. A tangle of small

shrubs, annuals, biennials, perennials, bulbs, some in pots
on top of the wall, others in hanging baskets that swayed

above me. Amazed by all the shades and shapes of stems
and leaves, textures, and colors of petals. The sequence of bud

to bloom to seed. She’d say their names, some gifts from friends
who traveled—Mrs. Wong she did seamstress work for, who gave

her a parakeet. In the front yard she grew leaf lettuces near boxwoods,
pulled off a leaf for me to taste the tender-crisp, the sweet liquid pulp.

as of today, august 21, 2003,
i would like to state that
I am absolutely out of blood! Empty!

theres is no more blood!
Its all gone! just seeped right out
from my pores and into the sky

if you cut me you see meat. 
either god could not find room
Or he’s taking me up bit by bit

I hate writing
I hate the thought
I hate sitting here
I hate staring at a blank screen
I hate the sound of keys clicking
I hate the typos
I hate prose
I hate the rhymes
I hate it all
I hate that I love it all