*if you can hear the screaming
no, no you must be dreaming
it's not me.....
God Sheba is not in the building
the color green
is stuck into my teeth
dripping down my throat
mixing in with my sighs
drowning in a pool of tears
fear chained to my ankles
numbers floating way
fathers called out to me
sing baby sing
fathers call down for me
to
dance baby dance
stop dreaming of wings!
yes baby it happen to me
but you ain't me
long line of green inside workers
long line of tree in full bloom workers
spring too workers
long line of people who flew
dat ain't you child
sing lungs love child
dance spine love child
write colors on skies child
read them numbers child
shade help them troubles go way baby
rain makes them troubles go way baby
keep flapping them gums child
make that green flat
lay like moss child
spring fragrance like purple
breathe in the sun
child and grow
how else you gon know?
plantation ain't stuck in soul
just at the bottom of soles
of people who can't fly
so dream red robin birds
sing yellow sparrow birds
dance brown eagle soar
glide silver dolphine child
and do you!!!
do you!!!
What a wonderful and creative work ..From the depths of the soul .. A beautiful poem of strong and soft imagery and passion which you do so well. Thank you for sharing this particular poem.
I've read this several times and thought I'd commented. Just noticed my name's not here so, I guess I imagined commenting. LOL. You have a unique aesthetic, Mitzi. A wonderfully compelling poetry voice that moves readers. ~~Nordette
Reviewed by ~ Holly Harbridge (Reader)
Reviewed on February 11, 2007
An excellent write Mitzi! Most powerful! love Holly
There is a peaceful conversation between back then and now, in the quiet of your words you take us the merging line...folk and now...always remembering your work.. Walt
Yankee Doodle Daddy is a historical Appalachian Family Saga. The story follows a mother's reckoning as she struggles to survive and keep her four daughters alive.
Yankee Doodle Daddy is a historical Appalachian Family Saga. The story follows a mother's reckoning as she struggles to survive and keep her four daughters alive.
Ron
Aberjhani
Love Tinka
I'm glad you're one of those who C A N fly, and show us how to do it in engaging, heartfelt verse; well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Blessings,
Joyce Bowling
I believe that anyone can soar. Your poem is total justification.
Fee