Tag Archives: truth

Again

Posted on by The Read-e-ologist

Today’s prompt was to write about “beginning again.” the extra challenge was to write it in the form of an etheree, which is a syllable pattern. The first line is 1 syllable, the second line gets 2 syllables. The pattern continues, ending with the tenth line which has 10 syllables.

Pain—
It’s not
Something that
I allow when
You’re an acquaintance,
Or someone who’s not close.
If I let you in my heart—
Into places I care about—
There’s a big chance that you might hurt me.
Will I ever let you get close again?

Love

Posted on by The Read-e-ologist

I love your dark brown eyes. I have loved them since the first day that they looked up at me 30 years, 8 months, and one day ago.

I love the way that your face lights up when you recognize joy on someone else’s face.

I love how you speak up for people who are not able to speak up for themselves.

I love your passion for learning and that you always have an interest you are pursuing.

I love the linguistic part of your brain—both how languages work and how to work a language.

I love your sense of humor. 

I love that you are humble and kind, and I love when you know that you are worth speaking up for.

I love when you spend time with me, when you call me, and when you send me letters.

I love you and I always will, Son. No matter what. 

It Was Really Nice To See You

Posted on by The Read-e-ologist

In English we say, It was nice to see you.
In Poetry we say,

As soon as I noticed you, my heart
Raced a little faster. I could feel
The warmth spread across my face.

My cheeks still ache from the smiling
Even though we only had a few minutes
To chat and catch up, I feel a connection
With you
And I want more.

It was really nice to see you. 
I mean it.

Forgiveness

Posted on by The Read-e-ologist

 I went to this website, and found a poetry form called the dizain. Here are the basic rules of the dizain:

  • One 10-line stanza
  • 10 syllables per line
  • Employs the following rhyme scheme: ababbccdcd

Some have said that to forgive is divine— 
That each and every human makes mistakes.
Seventy times seven, or maybe nine
Is the amount to overlook the aches,
No matter what caused each of the heartbreaks.
You have caused several and I’ve caused a few.
We argued, talked, and tried to see it through,
But forgiveness doesn’t work by itself.
It’s not too difficult to forgive you;
The hardest one to forgive is myself. 

What’s the Difference Between Gray and Grey?

Posted on by The Read-e-ologist

He stands at the pulpit to preach the word
Schooling us on Greek and Hebrew phrase
His self-esteem and status both undeterred
While he leads, and he pleads, and he prays.

He holds his head up high, to look upon his flock
Speaking of the Lord, with his truth and his ways
Scoping and scanning and taking stock
Of the folks in the pews, while he prays.

A perceptive shepherd he’s got his eyes on the sheep
Monitoring the singing the needs and the praise
Especially the young women, who are prone to weep
He notices. He nurtures. He preys.

In spirit he’s Peter; in the flesh Cosby, Bill.
His desires bigger than his Christian ways.
He lures her and offers her a drink, laced with pill.
He plans to take her and make sure she stays. He preys.

Response to “Waiting”

Posted on by The Read-e-ologist

The beautiful and brilliant Nikki Grimes wrote the following poem today:

Screen Shot 2018-04-09 at 10.17.51 PM

While I know it was not about me, it hit home so hard.  Hard.  After crying, I put my warrior pen in hand and wrote this response:

Julie no longer plays into the big hand,
     The heavy hand, the upper hand,
The hand that silences, shames, smacks.

She used to plead, “Pick me! Pick Me!”
     In a rush, she’d cast her heart into pools of abandonment—
Pearls to swine, like clockwork.

They could count on her to bear the secrets,
     The stains, the scarlet paragraphs and
Chapters that chronicled cries and crises.

But in the hour of need, past half the darkness
     The second hand clicked into place. . .
Safe hands and second chances surfaced.

This is her day in the sun. Love won.
     Flourishing, fostering freedom and hope,
Counting on truth—not time—to heal her wounds.

Dr. King Reminder

Posted on by The Read-e-ologist

On this fourth day of NaPoWriMo I felt compelled to nod to Maya Angelou (it would have been her 90th birthday) and to acknowledge the atrocious assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (50 years ago).  I decided to write a Golden Shovel poem using three lines from Maya Angelou’s poem “Abundant Faith.”

These times of born again fear
Remind us that justice is not
Yet available for all.  We’ve
Witnessed brutality as our brothers come
Under fire—happens to our sisters too.
Hasn’t this gone too far?
Fifty years ago Dr. King reminded us to
Persevere, “We aren’t going to let dogs or water hoses turn
Us around.”  We shall not wallow in despair.  We must go back
To that Dream. We
Must go back to the truths that are
Self-evident. It is time for equity. We shall walk together, not
Alone. Free and empowered—no longer afraid.
Brothers and sisters, your lives matter and
It is time to join hands as we
Sing together, work together, pray together. We shall
hear freedom ring and see love overcome.