This is a little haiku-in-3-parts for my husband’s experience this past week:
Fire ants pierce the skin
Put their venom in his veins
Leave permanent scars,
Tiny but deadly
They sense in him a danger
and attack en masse,
He breaks out in hives
Delirious with burning,
then convulsions start,
with son on the phone,
and violent vomiting,
friends come to rescue!
Bendryl comforts,
medication takes effect,
the storm is over.
I had a lovely, short walk just before darkness fell. It is unusually cool & I wore a jacket. It is perfect perfect weather, reminds me of camping & the coolness of night time sleeping in a tent, snuggling down into the sleeping bag to get warm. Took one picture which I really like. My crappy phone camera sometimes does artistic things.
Nightfall
The last brilliance of the Sun
Glows a circle of rose-colored light
Trees in silhouette reach fingers upward,
Blue sky fades to darker hue,
The Sun descends to other worlds,
sinks below horizon,
Dusk, these moments just before dark,
A time of transition,
a time of calm,
When Day becomes Night
But is neither one,
Children quiet and are tucked into bed,
Night creatures rise up from their graves
Frogs gather to sing mating calls,
Birds tuck heads beneath their wing,
Shameless mocking birds sing a song,
their voices fade from many to one,
Peace descends upon the earth
Telling us this day is done.
CF Black 6-05-12
The things that stay with you
These are the things that stay with you,
The Door locking tight behind you,
C.O.’s walking us two-by-two
Holding the hand of our partner,
Women, together, serving time,
Sitting in their cell block,
Training retired greyhound dogs
Who share their cell at night,
Others sit at sewing machines
Making prison clothes,
Busting into laughter, they joke about
the size of men’s boxer shorts
coming off their machines,
These are the things that stay with you,
A woman put her baby girl
In her car, at 3am,
Headed out to find the man
To sell her more cocaine,
Ran her car off the road and hit a tree,
Her baby girl flying through the front windshield
Never had a chance.
Another woman’s partner gave her HIV,
The father to her children,
She met him at the door,
Split his head wide open,
with her own two hands,
Got picked up on her 3rd charge for selling crack,
She didn’t care anymore,
Because what was there to live for?
Prison time gave her a chance
To decide to live again,
Their faces ever stay with me
As do those peering out of Lock Up
Where they sit 23 hours a day,
Eating meals in their cells
And reading the Bible,
While we peer back at them.
These are the things that stay with you,
Correctional officers with walkie talkies
Wait for the buzz that opens you once again
To the outside world,
To freedom,
To being able to sit, alone, in your car
And decide where you want to go,
While they go back within the walls,
Watch TV, if their bill is paid,
Lie down in their army cot,
Say a prayer for their loved ones at home,
And dream of doing
What we just did,
Walk straight out of hell.
CF Black 4-23-2012
I just wanna be Jennifer Hudson
I just wanna be Jennifer Hudson
Everyone looking at my FINE body,
50 lbs. less than I used to be
Prancing all around in a peacock strut,
I wanna go out for a 2-mile run
Feeling healthy and full of life,
Feel my lungs take in more and more air,
and Sprint all the way to the end,
In reality, I know how old I am,
I wouldn’t give up the wisdom I’ve gained,
We are always where we are for a reason,
Life is long, with many a season,
But sometimes you wonder,
How did I get here?
And who exactly is that, in the mirror?
You realize life is a precious gift,
You look back wistfully at days gone past,
The question is not,
How much time do I have?
But more,
How to make each day better — than the last.
CF Black 04-13-2012
New Orleans
We watch him make a coin disappear
Into thin air,
The magician entertains us
Not in a fancy nightclub
Or at a show we bought a ticket for,
But on the street in Nawlins,
Where he earns his living
Collecting money in a hat,
A cop on motorcycle
Interrupts the show
Beeping his siren, clearing us away,
The magician, irritated,
Quickly wraps up,
reminds us to contribute,
he steps to the curb,
Where now appears
On the street where he was standing
A parade! – for no other reason than to celebrate Spring,
Strutters strut their stuff
While playing ragtime music
Marching past with drums and trumpets,
They wink as we catch the beat
start moving to the music,
while Kings and Queens and children
Hand out flowers to the crowd,
I collect my own colorful bouquet,
Some real, some imitation,
Then the band goes by, and we join the end of the line,
Climbing into the street,
we strut our own stuff
on the streets of New Orleans,
dancing, strutting,
we join the grand parade.
Cfblack 3-27-2012
Dr. Martin Luther King holiday
You got no mail today.
Did you notice? Do you know why?
Because this is a National Holiday,
a day set aside
to honor someone
who made a difference.
He was not some rabble-rouser
Tryin’ to stir up folks for no good reason,
He was a preacher of the Word of God,
which is where he found his strength to go on,
Because when God gets behind you,
It doesn’t matter who is in front of you
Calling you names,
Spreading hate like wildfire,
Bombing your homes
threatening your family,
Because that is what he faced,
Not in ancient times –
though it may feel that way
If you are 21,
But 50 years ago,
in my childhood,
In the days of MY lifetime.
He was a gifted speaker,
who could inspire crowds
And uplift hearts,
like no one you’ve ever heard,
He inspired collective ACTION
through non-violent means,
inspired those who had no hope left
inspired politicians to change their laws
to DO SOME WALKING to go along with their TALKING
about equal opportunity.
He wrote a letter from the Birmingham jail,
to his fellow ministers, and asked,
Was this not America – home of the brave, land of the FREE?
What would it take to bring about EQUALITY?
But 50 years later,
A man looks at me,
In a business in the rural south,
and asks me, “What was the attraction?”
When I spoke of the service today,
when I joked about spending 3 ½ hours in CHURCH,
listening to speakers and choirs sing,
celebrating this man.
“What was the attraction?”
And I don’t know what to say, except,
“This is a NATIONAL HOLIDAY!”
This was a man courageous enough
to stand up for justice
In the face of death,
To face hatred
With never ending love,
To face bombings of churches and his home,
With a dream of a better America,
And I want to say, “Where were you?”
Because there were hundreds in that church today,
and where ARE we today – exactly?
Because today was a NATIONAL holiday,
And we have much work left to do,
because … “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.
Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence . . . in a descending spiral of destruction…
The chain reaction of evil . . . must be broken, or we will shall plunge into the dark abyss of annihilation…” 1
and “When I speak of love I am not speaking of some sentimental and weak response . . . I am speaking of that force which all of the great religions have seen as the supreme unifying principle of life . . .” 2
and “Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy.” 3
1,2,3 quotes of Dr. Martin Luther King
Day Before the First Day of the Semester
Beginnings.
The day before the first day of the semester,
All is possibility.
There are no late assignments,
No one has failed a test,
Or made an excuse for missing class.
Your relationship with each and every student
Is solid.
All there is, is the role play, of student vs. professor.
The goal for today is to copy the syllabus,
The contract of promises to be kept.
There are no questions as to when the assignment is due,
Whether or not you provide a review,
Or take papers via e-mail.
You have a list with names on it,
Everyone’s grade is equally resplendent.
Their main concern for tomorrow
Is to find the right room,
And to take a seat — next to someone they know.
15 weeks of struggle and promise lie pristine before them,
No one knows how to tell their story,
Or how it will come to an end,
Today is all possibility,
Lift your pencil, now, begin!
Halloween
Memories of so many Halloweens,
With four children wanting to have some fun,
Four children wanting a costume
And no money to buy them one,
The oldest was 8
When the youngest was born,
They grew up together,
While I was home,
A stay-at-home mom for 11 years,
In the 1980s recession,
Each year we canvassed the store shelves,
where costumes were for sale,
We’d have some fun,
Try on hats,
Chase each other with a scary mask,
Just before the witching hour,
We’d throw together some old clothes,
Paint little faces with make-up,
Make our own costume,
Some were ghosts,
some were witches,
the boys might carry a sword,
we usually bought a special prop,
and made up all the rest,
The girls might be a princess
With a cheap, toy princess crown,
Occasionally one would be their dad,
Wearing his old clothes,
A pirate with an eye patch,
a Raggedy Ann doll,
Someone in their PJs,
Carrying a pillow,
If I could, I would time travel
Back to those nights,
With my four little goblins,
And walk the neighborhood,
Today we live hundreds of miles apart,
Each of us in a different state,
Grandma gets pictures on Facebook
of grandchild pirates and power rangers,
Create memories while you can,
These days are gone in a minute,
And hope that these good times make up
For all your mistakes, as a parent!
CFBlack 10-30-2011
Crickets in denial:
Singing summer love songs, while
Winter closes in.
I come from the land of Winters,
Relatives, stone-faced, pose for the camera,
Mother, Father,
their children before them,
All standing proud,
not a trace of smile,
the Dutch sailed from Amsterdam to New York harbor,
from there to the great lakes and Chicago,
down to Indiana,
the Dakotas in the west,
This is the land of winters,
Where tulip bulbs snuggle deep into the earth,
While blizzard winds blow above them,
Piling drifts against doors of houses,
and children hope for schools to close,
Children learn to dress for cold,
their fingers, in gloves, still go numb,
Thick socks and boots cover little toes,
Scarves wrap noses and
tie behind the head,
and they go out to play,
Snow suits are part of a child’s wardrobe,
Underwear is long and insulated,
Papers delivered on below-zero mornings,
Hot chocolate awaits icy fingers at home,
A fireplace adds to the warmth of a room,
Leaves turn in September,
fall in October,
Ice covers pond through April or May,
Spring comes late in June,
Tulips rise from their graves,
Summer is HOT
But short-lived,
Where loss of power, means loss of life,
“Snow blindness” is a known disease,
People grit their teeth to face the cold,
And walk into the wind,
Gray clouds form a blanket
for weeks at a time,
like some long and lingering depression,
Survival here brings strength of spirit
Not understood in other lands,
in truth it takes a certain skill,
passed down for generations,
Being from the land of winters,
I have learned,
You can ignore the Cold that surrounds you,
And go about your day,
You can survive the harshness,
And just go out to play,
Lay down in the freezing snow,
Make a Snow Angel. 
C.Black 10-19-2011
Doctor Grandma 