Life's Game

The channel of life is long and deep
Like the whispering wind, the impatient sea
Timeless as the years go by
Happiness, just a word
Sadness in its many faces
Hate, destruction in people’s minds
One by one, they come, they go
Two-faced as they are
People never learn, never feeling
Wrapped in self, one reflection
Too eager, such a pity
God save this world one more day
They lie, they cheat
Profit, money, greed too
Funny, life’s game.

Circa 1970

This Day

Laying on my back
In the grass
Gazing at the clouds
As they roll by
What do I seek
As the minutes drift
I look for the memories
That elude this day.

February 2009

Words of Wisdom

Come hither, come now
Take heed, to words of wisdom
Enjoy your youth, take each day as it falls
Relate to your friends and peers
Place your best foot forward and
See the world for what it is
Save the drama and hysterics
For old age -----
By then, you will have earned it!

October 2005

Christmas in July! "Santa Darling"

I sit on Santa’s lap
Waiting for him to ask
Old Lady, have you been
A good “little” girl...
I reply, yes Santa, I have....
What gifts do you want this year...
Old lady that I am, I reply
You, Santa Darling!

Dec 2009

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Gwendolyn's Blog

Willow Tree

If I close my eyes
I see the nucleus of my soul
Nurtured within my womb
A young sapling, little willow tree
Swaying with the breeze
I watch you develop day by day
Stretching your limbs upwards
Pride bursts through a haze, a rainbow
Your precious smile takes away the chill
On a cold rainy day, storms we have weathered
To remain true, willow tree
My son!

June 1998

I Am

A woman in a dream
Of knights, shiny armor
Gallant men of long ago
Cheerful, angry, sad
Too much sorrow, hate
As time goes
What tomorrow’s menu brings
Hope, despair, peace
Weary traveler of foreign lands
Settling neither shore
Forever moving
Black as night
Warm as the summer breeze
Shifting with the sands of time
Nature’s child of darkness
Clashing with human ills
Racing against fate
Woman of color
Heart filled with love and hope
I am me.

1970s

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Stuff It Momma

Lordy, lordy, good day Miz Glory
The sun’s a shinin, a rainbow of color
Momma’s in the kitchen fryin chicken
Cornbread’s a bakin in the oven
Poppa’s snoozin in the corner
Grandpa’s down by the water shed makin liquor
Grandma’s hips are twitchin
Down the garden path, chasin chickens
Pickin string beans and collard greens
Polk Salad Annie comin to supper
Parson Jethro two steps behind
Stir that bubbling black kettle
One more time
Stuff it Momma!

Spring 1996

Letting Go

I.
Kat and I sit inside her home
The air conditioner buzzes softly
It keeps us cool from the sweltering heat
Outside our sons race through the sprinklers
Their young laughter fills the air
We sip burgundy wine and compare notes on the price of food
The telephone rings, Kat drops her glass

II.
I wrote you a letter today
It was mom’s idea that I share my news
I do this before Kat drops the glass
In two months time, my life will take a turn
Motherhood lurks around the bend
I’m all alone in Houston

III.
Mom was on the line, call your father
Cheer him up, he’s in the hospital
A veteran of one war, two conflicts, I sense panic
We got the number to the hospital
Kat used her I’m Captain Richardson’s wife voice to inquire

IV.
I’ve waited for a response
It’s just like you to ignore me and my thoughts
Years of frustration need to be addressed
Do you remember, telling your cronies
Girls aren’t worth shit, why

V.
One-sided conversation, the doctor answers
You were improving, you had gone to the john
Back in bed, you began to read the paper,
A huge jack-hammer struck your chest
They tried to resuscitate you
Fifteen minutes later you were gone

VI.
Did you have any reaction to my letter
Or did you treat it like an ad from the newspaper
I don’t give a shit anymore

VII.
Dew blanketed the grass at night
We pulled up to the house in the early morn
Mom was at the breakfast bar, drinking lukewarm coffee
Kat and I console her for all our loss

VIII.
My son is nine months old
I’m coming home, back to my old job
I hope you will meet us at the airport

IX.
Your friends drop by to pay their respects
A crony from World War II spoke with me
‘He was proud of you girl, you always landed on your feet’
I stroked your chilled cheek, thinking back
When I was daddy’s little girl.

6 June 1998

Always

I love you always
With every breath I take
Rustling leaves in the meadow
Birds flying high in the sky
I love you always
Every moment we are apart
In my dreams, nestled close
Til we’re together once again
I love you always
Knowing you will never be mine
Fantasy keeps me alive
For dreams of you and time.

Date Unknown

Godmother

Time has passed, like the millennium
Farewells not to be spoken between us
Fifteen plus years, face to face
Just frequent calls


Memories often fade
A little girl remembers
Sunday church, country drives
Trips to the ice cream parlor, days gone by


Baths in a wooden tub
On top of the kitchen table
Watching the cows come down the hill
Spitting watermelon seeds on the grass
Fresh corn right off the cob
Fried with young tomatoes


A journey to Alameda to see my Dad disembark
A young soldier just back from Korea
Reunited with his young family whom you held safe


I still can picture you
Your red can of chewing tobacco
A piece to place inside your mouth
A virtual habit of days past


Hanging on to my comforter and pillow
Stored lovingly among your treasures
Singing the praises of the Lord for his creations
Now you rest in his loving arms
No more pain, no more suffering
Someday we will meet again, and I can say
I love you once, once again

30 January 1996

Color

Love, a four letter word

Knows no color

Picture, you and I

White, black

Color me love

Imperfect that I am

Erase your fears

Touch my heart

Bond, you, I

Across the divide

Picture me awake

Loving you,

An illusive dream!

December 1992

Last Visit

Stark, white walls in a antiseptic room

Computerized monitors of life, their silent beeping tones

It was the last time I saw, your black pain riddled body

You were not my grandmother, just a hallucinatory spirit, curled in a fetal posture

Anticipating father time

I gazed into a face lined with rough living

The cotton fields of Little Rock

To the hospital corridors of Wilmington, as a domestic

I stroked your callused hand, an angel in white

Administered medication, which you promptly spit out

Eyes closed, all the while, you, ready to die

With a smile

Four days later, in your shallow sleep, you passed away

Buried, to the hymn, of Amazing Grace.

4 April 1994

Once

Once in a while
Someone special comes

To touch our very soul

But never to linger

As life deals unjust blows

Alas, life goes on

Friendships are built
To withstand the fate of time
Thus shared between two people
Tears, sorrow, joy, laughter
Building a bridge of steel
For all the world to see.

November 1992

Firelight

Firelight, two people

Gaze into each other’s souls

Seeking, pulling back the memories

When two bodies meld as one

Caressing, whispering, loving

Your long tapered fingers play

Music upon my soul

Sweetly releasing the notes

Within my body

Bodies intertwined

Climaxing into a symphony

As the ashes play out.

February 2009

Gwendolyn’s Kaleidoscope

Visualize

As willow trees bend

A half-moon outhouse

Grandpa’s princess dancing in the dusty road

Queen of the May, decades ago

Daddy’s gone to Korea on a big ship

I’m too young to realize the graveness

Mother, me, and brother Butch

Living in Floyd Terrace, up on the hill

Alameda at night

Searching for Daddy

As soldiers disembark

In the night mist

Home again

Great adventure at six

Wilmington to Dover, corpman’s delight

Chasing a young girl in flight, too many shots in my arm

Coast to coast by train to board a great ship

U.S.S. O’Henry, leaving Seattle in the rain

Along the gang plank, one by one, off to see Daddy

In a faraway place, the land of the Rising Sun

Roses for me, a kiss for Mom

A handshake for Butch and Al

Cousin Moses came to say how do

From Yokohama to Gifu, three years

Laced with burdensome snow, torrential monsoons

The smell of cherry blossoms in the spring

A short stop to visit with grandpa and grandma

Brothers three, a sister at last

Lynford Hall, and English estate in the 50’s

A quaint village, Mildenhall is where I live

I meet a young English girl, Judy, oh, I have a new friend

Kings and Queens, museums galore

History abounds, the Tower of London

Anne Boleyn

Will I ever stay in one place long enough to

Keep my friends

5:00 a.m., to the mess hall for a gastronomical feast

London bound for a flight, Boeing 747

My 60’s treat, land of Adolf Hitler

An historical event

The Berlin Wall

A Rhine River cruise

Meanders through the German countryside

Dreams of castles, King Ludwig and Hitler’s Retreat

High in the mountains, covered with snow

Towering excitement generates the air

Summer 1963, a Wiesbaden cheer, J.F.K. at the Von Steubin

Months later, one fateful night

Across the airwaves, death of J.F.K., sombers the evening

A secured childhood passes away, civil rights

Exciting news, I’m going home

Five years, a long time

Along the way, one last sibling, foreign born

Eagerness dies as I return to country about to erupt

Poisonous venom from slithering vipers, riots

Harsh realities….

At sixteen

1 February 1994

Place the Shell to Your Ear

Place the shell to your ear

Listen to the voice from within

Calling your name in a whisper

A whisper of love, with affection

From deep within, across eternity

Though the nights are long, and lonely

Place the shell to your ear

Let joy rise to the surface

A burst of rainbow light

Collides within your soul

Place the shell to your ear

Respond across eternity

Let the dance of life begin

From me to you

Place the shell to your ear.

February 2009

Blue & Pink Rollers Atop My Head

I.

Saturday, somewhere, around 6:30 a.m.

A voice, familiar yet far away

Drifts into my slumber.

II.

Question, ‘where is’ begin

My uniform, batting gloves

Hat and mitt

The pitch is made, swing

Strike one, I pace

Strike two, I pace some more.

III.

Did you see my jock strap

(protects, the whisper of manhood)

Can we have breakfast at Garlands?

The batter steps out of the box

Takes a couple of deep breaths

Back in the box one last time.

IV.

Groaning, I roll over, whispering

‘My only day to sleep in’

Small hands shake my work weary body

Detonating blue and pink rollers from atop my head

The pitch is made, the batter swings

The ball whistles through the air

Between center and left field

V.

Shutters open, I ease out of bed

Resigned to Saturday fate, I shower

Thinking, how can a small person be so zealous

Runners fly around the bases, two runs scored

A runner on third, one at second

A spectators’ voice cries…’YES’.

VI.

I dress with a shadow hovering

Prodding me to make haste

Don’t want to be late

Mighty Mite…well he’s in the car!

June 1994

Fade

Fading light

Against the dark

Distance separates

Two halves

Of one.

March 1993