Among the mad?
some of us
do go
mad
even after
the booze
& the laughs
the music
& the lights
the prayers
& the meds
all in a world
that seems
to condemn
anything
real
it surprises me
many more
of us
don’t admit
we are
mad
too
some of us
do go
mad
even after
the booze
& the laughs
the music
& the lights
the prayers
& the meds
all in a world
that seems
to condemn
anything
real
it surprises me
many more
of us
don’t admit
we are
mad
too
Rising from the earth
Moving through trees
A thousand flickering
Stars that we can hold
In our hands
Maybe I should’ve listened at the bee sting
between my toes yesterday evening
before bats were summoned to fly
low rings around my head
while I duck in fear and shame.
Before I crouch down,
then belly crawl across the hardwood floor.
Before I stare in awe on the other
side of the glass watching their wing
beats while they circle like a mobile
looking for a way out.
Before I begin to wonder if
I know anything at all.
there are illusive monsters in
the gloom, nails and teeth,
lurking, menacing, tracing
the curve of my hip,
I don’t give in vain
I hope God understands that
Includes tithes and dues
Because when I see
The house the Lord built turn folks
Away at the doors
You will have to prove
That this rock is a safe place
For all who seek rest
I am from a parochial school background, 9 years in elementary and 4 years in high school,
I am from living in small places and spaces that forced us to be close; going out to dinner every Saturday night for no special reason and seeing a double feature at San Francisco’s famed Fox Theatre,
I am from saving spare change in a large jug so we could shake hands with Mickey and Minnie Mouse,
I am from garlic and basicilica, raviolis and pasta and homegrown pomodoros with handmade meatballs every Thursday night,
I am from Hail Marys and Our Fathers, Good Acts of Contrition and Stations of the Cross,
I am from gotta go to work, get two jobs if you hav’ta, we all had to do it, remember tell the truth, do your best and keep your nose clean,
I am from a tiny island of olives and lemons in the Mediterranean; and German dairy farmers and mason carpenters from the Emerald Isle,
I am from deep family roots with a sangue mio credo never to be severed no matter what!
I am from a gift of gab, garrulous laughter, a fightin’ spirit and why don’t you eat’a sumpathin’!
I am from a world of Peggy Lee’s Fever and Dean Martin’s When the Moon hits your eye likea Big Pizza Pie that’s AMORE!
I am from football pools, flying wingtips, white socks to fight athlete’s feet and pink boxes full of hot cross buns,
I am from blue ribbon elephant garlic, eggplant parmigana, frittata and sweet French smoothered in Challenge butter,
I am from are you going to write fiction or non-fiction?
I am from simple folks, post toasties and milk in MJB coffee and boxes of red vine licorice,
I am from you can do anything you put your mind to and remember we’ll always love you no matter what!
The ink of a cheap gel pen smears across the
page as I furiously attempt to capture what
those before me have. The words they wrote
captivated me into believing that I also could
create literary beauty in minutes. The letters
from two lines ago continue to smear into
complete nonsense, yet the story flows into
my brain and onto the page too fast to stop.
What starts off as a seed, becomes a seedling, with little starter leaves. Then, it gets it’s true leaves. With fruit-bearing plants, such as tomatoes, okra and cucumbers, once they begin to flower, the blooms become fruit.
As a mother, it reminds me of my children, my seedlings, which became flowers and bloomed and are HEAVY with fruit. From the flower, which is me, I bear GOOD FRUIT! If I CONTINUE to consistently water and tend to MYSELF like I do these plants, I will CONTINUE to produce GOOD, LIFE-SUSTAINING fruit!
Clouds of dark memory threaten to storm, with each new drop, long-gone rain.
I feel better
‘Cause we’re together
Talking about our days,
Sharing stories
Is never boring
When I’m here with you.
