CHAPTER 1

IT HURTS

To not see you again
To not hear your voice
To not feel your touch ever again
It hurts too much not to know where you are
What you're doing
Are you afraid, unhappy sad?
The finality of it all
Knowing you will never see them ever again
If we could just master this part ...
Death would not be so terrifying.


No woman has a monopoly on
this kind of man.

None of us women have a monopoly on this kind of
man.
He's out to get you and drive us insane.
The one who lies out the side of his mouth.
And winks at your very best girlfriend
As soon as you turn your head.
The one who cheats the same day you're married
Or the very next night
The buddy friend who needs a ride
Instead it's a woman by his side
The late hours of supposedly work
Just might turn out to be the night clerk.
The business trips you're never invited on.
None of us women have a monopoly on this kind of
man

We women need to stick together to keep our love
life better.
Abuse and pain we need not share
if for the married one we would not be there.
If the other woman would consider the wife
And think what if that was my life.
Say I don't need to help make her life more
miserable

I need to make this man be more
Considerable of his responsibilities,
None of us women have a monopoly on this kind of
man
Obligations and vows just don't be available
For him at another woman's expense.
Make it hard for him to be a whore
We women need to stick together.
relationships would be better.


FOR A BOTTLE OF
PERFUME AND SHIRT

Ladies we give our man away for a bottle of perfume
and a shirt
Now gather around and listen to what I say
It's going to take a strong woman to not hurt
She found the shirt in the bottom drawer tuck away
underneath some other stuff
She asked the question where did it come from
He said I thought that you bought it.
You know you didn't but what's a lie
It's told to you all the time you say I did not buy this
now where did you get it from
Oh I forgot I bought that one from Momeka she sells
that stuff now.
That's it I'm out of here Momeka can have you.
You leave file for a divorce.
Momeka bought him for a bottle perfume and a
shirt—
You caught him with Momeka more than once
And now you will give him to her
Listen to this if he works and takes care of home
Then I'll buy him for 2 bottles of perfume and 2
shirts—give him to me.
I say keep your man
Here's how you handle Momeka.
You know where she works. Go there and order a
sandwich and coffee
Say "Momeka look what my husband gave me"—
You cut the shirt sleeve off at elbow roll them up
Spray the perfume all on you.
This is the shirt I've wanted go with my jeans
And don't you just love this scent.
When I find out where he got it
I'll let you know—get you some.


WHO IS THIS MAN?

When love is gone what do you do?
Do you keep on hoping feelings will ease?
What happened to the love that was here?
Maybe there was only one love the other pretend.
Some seem to think everyone is blind
that they can't be seen.
You must just hear
The signs were there from the beginning the
Hidden agenda did slowly appear.
No communication just let things be that way
I'm clear to do ill deeds and call any discussions an
argument
I don't have to face up to hear your needs
Why I'm good at turning pebbles into stones
I can turn the situation around to your
exaggerations and stretched out facts
Will make you look like the enemy too.
I can undermine I've did it before you
Women are no match for me
I've got this closet agenda the real me is very hard
for you to see.


Not Willing to Give

I don't even like you girls
What love is gone there never was any
Just pinch me
and I'll really tell. My desires
will blow your mind. "Oh well"
If I don't talk I can hide the real person.
I'm ready to own a man without concern
of how you fell and the love you had that is gone
You helped me up I'll put you down
I want what I'm not willing to give,
not your name on what I have but my name


A SKETCH OF A MAN

Whatever you see on the outside
Is all there is to this man
Bling and a three piece.
suit.
Lots of talk with no substance
Not sincere just wants to score.
Nothing is there but a suit of clothing, chains and
earrings
No man ... not even an aging boy.
Just a sketch of a person
Taking up space and trying to perpetrate being a
man.


AND SUDDENLY YOU ...

I was surrounded by people all the time.
Alone, hungry for a special care.
And suddenly you.
We met, we touched, our hearts pounded.
We talked; you called.
And suddenly you.
We embraced, our eyes touched, we loved.
We smiled; we parted.
And suddenly we knew.


The Dozen

I have been living with about a dozen women.
Some are very pretty, clever, and fun to be with.
Some are vain, lazy and superficial.
One of them has three children and she tries
desperatly to be a mother to them.
One is kind hearted and practical.
One is gorgeous but cold selfish and grasping.
One is hungry for sex most of the time.
One is a total space case. And at least two of them
are prize
Bitches.
We all get along quite well actually
Considering what close space we have been forced
to occupy
The inside of my head


We Women need to stick
together

To keep our relationships from abuse and pain
We need not have to share.
If the married one would not be there.
If the other women would consider the wife
And think what if that was my life
Think I don't need to help make her life more
miserable
I need to make this man be more considerable.


Freedom from Him

Too much perhaps I think I loved him.
I was so completely dependent on him my breath
was drawn from him.
My strength was the off shoot of his vitality.
It was as if my whole personality was nothing more
than the sum total of my response to him.
He possessed a strange manipulative power over
me. At time I think he derived some sort of perverse
pleasure from making me suffer and jump like a
puppet on the end of a string.
Sleepless nights I have lain awake thinking of the
hurt he caused me. I remember how I cried about
the first women he cheated on me with; the second
one, the third one and with the tenth one ...
I did not cry.
I know now what the thing was that started to grow
within me.
Freedom from him. Perhaps I could have forgave
him
for the cheating that has haunted my life from the
beginning of our relationship
But will I ever forgive for the whipping he gave my
spirit. I will carry the scar on my soul for the rest of
my life.
God has help me heal. I am free from him


NEVER SAD

Woven loosely in my heart
Room for hurt and pain to enter
God help me to tighten
These places, that tender
Life for me is simple, Not things make me happy, a
smiles, a touch, a kind
Word makes me so glad.
A fish jumping, a butterfly, a flower smelling of
perfume and I'm never sad.
Hoping for peace and contentment.


THE HOUSE THAT
VICTORIA BUILT

The down payment had been made.
The house was completed, new from the ground up.
Victoria moved in. She was happy.
She soon discovered some exterior damages.
She had the repairs done. She was happy again.
Oh no, damage again. This time it was the interior.
Major Structural Damage. She called in the
Professionals. Each specialized in his field.
In spite of the repairs they made, they could not fix
everything.
The damage was too
Great and had spread. Victoria had to make a
Decision, whether to keep repairing or move.
The cost would be enormous either way. She
Loved this house and loved the people about
Her. It would be a painful decision to those
Who loved her. She moved. Perhaps the next
House would be in better shape and need less
Repairs.
Victoria died. She was 3 months old.


Excuse Me

I unlock the door.
I get there early enough so that the building is
accessible for use in the morning.
Lessons take the lead and young adults get ready
For a mass ball of skills thrown at them for
immediate mastering.
Ryan walks in lazily, looks around to see which
textbook is in use, grabs the book,
Sits next to Kyle.
Asks about the page and begin to talk on topics only
known to him and Kyle.
As I made my way threw the classroom chatter,
books thrown down,
Pencil sharpener making its fast spins. I enter
and say "Excuse Me !"quietness comes over the
classroom and pages start to turn.


Honey I have a degree
in this field

My first year I believed a few,
Hurry I'm late ... got a run to make
Time just slipped away baby
I'm sorry your birthday card is a day late
The second year I took white lies and smeared
lipstick,
Car trouble, coming into the door
I had four flat tires and I'm tired tonight.
My third year I took lying, wrong number calls.
Drive bys and named me Judy while making love
Forget our anniversary.
That's no place for you.
I don't like that movie,
I just don't have time.
My senior year I'd had enough
I took my clothes, my books,
My car, my self respect, and moved on.
I'm now working on my masters in my fate and on a
happier life.
I got a degree in that field


IKE ISON DOCK HENRY

But he was daddy to me.
Big strong a leaning statue of a man
Long arms a swaying back and a big hands.
Was this man working the land?
Hunting the woods and fishing the lakes taking care of
Things he grew and things he made was this man
call Ison
"Come here dock let me tell you about those
chillens" would call his Aunt Ella
"I'm not eating nothing till Dock come she told
daughter was the man called Dock
A man to deal with easy and giving never to argue,
Not to quick to anger but pushed in a corner this
man Henry was not to tangle.
But he was daddy to me.
Promising to let me put my new shoes on if I let him
remove a thorn from my foot.
A pat on my head.
A protective guy a big smile on his face bangs of hair
that stood up in the front, his left
Arm always slightly bent the right arm swinging,
A book that was far away a few words spoken to himself
From up the road or from the splashing of water in
the slew or a far of whistle coming toward
You. One could see or hear this man
Who was and will be daddy to me.


WHY?

How unfair it must seem.
why did it happen to my child,
Why did my child have to be in that place at that
exact time why?
The answer is not known
Take solace in that you were blessed with
Your child for however many years.
Did you ask why that particular child came through
you?
Did you ask who made the choice?
Look at you were chosen to be mother and father.
And take comfort there we aren't given a guarantee
on how long
we keep them.
Nor a warranty if there is a breakdown or
non-functioning part.
Remember the time you had with your child.
Look forward to the time you have left and think
I'm blessed.


I was tired of pain

It was driving me insane.
Perhaps death holds
Another page of life to unfold
Weep not.
For me worry neither for I may be in
A better place you see
Where I am or how things are I can't tell
All you can do is
Wish me well.


Life was beautiful while I lived it.

I had many experiences
I would not trade.
I shared my life with many.
Giving, taking, worrying, advising
those who came and went.
My time was well spent.
Life is like an air bubble.


My child was a child who acted
like a child

He played, laughed, joked,
And got in mischief as a child will do.
Never should we forget that children
are on loan as we all are.
Paying off the loan is the living
When that loan is paid death takes over.
He is mine said the Lord.


Life is energy.

Energy cannot destroy.
The body is a house where the energy lives
As comfortably as can
When the house is no longer livable
All must move to another house
Hopefully more stronger and comfortable than the first
Enjoy your new home mother.


DEATH?

The mystery of death is the fear
The fear we have of not knowing
No one will ever tell
Is there heaven or hell?
If someone would only return
And ease other minds
What is experienced in that mystery called death?


Barefeet

Barefeet for the first years of my life.
could only wear shoes on Sunday.
Only one pair lasted on burn soles of feet.
When I grow up I will own 365 pairs.
I owned up to 205 before I realized
They were just things
Did not make me who I was
I still had only one pair of feet


I'll Remember

You were here this morning
you awoke with sleep in your eyes, stretching
You smiled at me and
You talked and walked out.
I remember the way you stared.
But not this evening you're all stretched out now.
And sleep will remain in your eyes.
You're not smiling now but I remember it well.
You're not talking now
I'll remember how.


CUT WOUND

On right thigh was cut
with a jagged can
While playing in mud with cousin Catherine.
Soot and lard was put
on it until it healed—left a 3in keloed.


BOUT WITH POLIO

I was diagnosed with polio at the age of 5
I could not walk
Could not stand for long
I had been taken from my grandparents by my real
MOTHER.
I had always believed my grandparents were my
mama and daddy
I did not want to leave.
I thought I would die if I had to leave to live with a
stranger
But mama and daddy made me go anyway.
Soon after I got there in about three days
I could not walk so I was taken to the two doctors.
Each said I had symptoms of polio
I needed another doctor who I later discovered was
a specialist.
After he examined me and ran test after test
He found nothing wrong.
So he asked me where the pain was.
I told him I didn't have any.
Can you stand up: No.?
When did you first notice you could not stand,
Right after I came live with Bill.
Who is Bill?
Mama and Daddy said that was my real mama.
Do you like living with her: NO.?
Do you think if I were to let you go back and
Spend some time with mama and daddy
You could stand up! I said yes.
So I stood up.
If I let you go stay with them would you walk for me!
Yes. So I walked.
And daddy took me back home the only home I
knew.


POLITICAL LITERACY

Why do we as citizens expect more from the people
Who run our schools than we do from the people
who run our cities?
From these public servants (teachers, principals,
etc) we expect qualified and trained
Knowledgeable, accountable, responsive and
responsible people.
From our political public servants we expect and
accept
Nothing more than a citizen being a long-time
member of an organization or community.
They run our city and thousands of dollars in
budget.
They are not required to have any experience or
knowledge of handling large amounts.
No knowledge of the structure and function of
government and no political literacy.
Political literacy a phrase I've coined to mean
Understanding of terms and vocabulary relevant to
the political process.
And being able to analyze key issues, study new
political ideologies and demand responsive and
responsible leaders.
We are experinceing difficulty in selecting and
electing political leaders
because of the above situations.
It is ironic that our children and teachers go through
years of training to
Be governed by the untrained. They (teachers)
required to have knowledge in the subject areas.
They (political leader) should at least be required to
be educated, articulate and politically literate.