Eileen Martinez

UNTITLED

Life is what it’s meant to be I say,

We emerge from the womb of our dear mothers

Put out and tested in this world of dreams

To make our way and try to survive the realities of what we awake to each day

Trying to catch a glimpse of the sunrises, the sunsets and all the creations that were made for us to value

Do we value them, do we value ourselves I say,

We make up our lives as we go along and we are to blame for whatever we encounter

There are no promises of the day, of tomorrow, of the future

Cherish and value what is present and offered to you

And abolish all things unnecessary and enjoy the gift of your life.

Lori Wall-Holloway

WIND THROUGH THE EYES OF A TWO YEAR OLD

(For Robert)

Puffs of air blow
on my face,
my arms
and my legs,
but I still want to stay
outside and play.
The puffs get
stronger and stronger,
until suddenly the trees
become giant monsters
waving their huge tree arms.

Afraid, I run into the house
with the wind chasing me,
pushing me from behind.
A loud sound makes me stop
and turn in the doorway.
The monsters are shaking
their large green hands
at each other and look
like they’re fighting.
They make loud noises,
and their big brown bodies
bend so far to the ground,
they look like they will break.

I hurry inside and slam
the door against the wind
so I can watch the fight
from the window.
The monster trees scare me.
They can’t get me inside the house.

Lori Wall-Holloway

WORD DANCE

Lord, please let my words
dance off the tip of my tongue
and leap across the ears
of my listeners, as I speak.

Let the music of my idioms
skip over the stage of the psyche
while phrases chassé each other
and do pirouettes in the imagination.

Ending with an arabesque pose
before the final bow, I pray
my words grace the listeners’
minds with beauty.

CaLokie

GOD-IN-THE-BOX

Turn on tap
Pour oceans, seas, lakes, rivers, etc.
into plastic bottles

With scissors cut out continents
Fold and put into envelopes
Moist glue and seal letters

Collect planets
Paste on 3x5 blank cards
Paperclip together

Gather Milky Way stars
Staple to 8x10 college ruled notebook sheets
Leave every other line blank

Use rubber bands to connect remaining
galaxies to each other
Then bind together with super strings

Try to get all items in one box to save shipping costs
Wad newspapers and stuff between plastic bottles
and materials stapled or paper clipped

Wrap and duct tape brown paper on box
On top, bottom and sides stamp
“HANDLE WITH CARE”

Call Fed-Ex
Return contents to manufacturer for needed repairs
before warranty expires

Michelle Angelini

SHE: EXPRESSIONAL EXHIBITION

she
does things according to self-desires
moves furniture before eating breakfast
leaves dishes to wash until the next morning
has no one to order (or at least mostly so)
what is allowed in her private space

once she heard a poet perform
her work in third person singular
a style that makes this author comfortable
now courage to compose poems
in this voice arises moves forward

she
is a child of the planet identifying
with all its elements
fire in her heart
air beneath her wings
earth in her heart
water-flowed words

she
befriends animals
tells them secret desires
they will keep to themselves
returning unconditional love unreservedly
has no intention of gratifying people
as she once did for friendship’s sake
or to back down from things they’ve said
in lessons learned that concern herself and others
she’s becoming more astute

she
believes in a Saviour who walks
with her through the day
guards sleep as the moon slips
across the dark sky
He is radiance
these beliefs keep her steady
and she understands no matter what happens
He’s always there so
trust is intrinsic
intimacy grows

she
plays with words as on a palette of paints
creates pictures with them
makes language into a shape she desires
in her hands they have learned
to become striking artwork
an expressional exhibition
which tells about harvests gathered
showers nourished
a life fully alive
with each nimble movement
her fingers make on keyboard
or holding a pen

Michelle Angelini

BLINDSPOT

In that moment
when going from light
to dark where
no vision exists
back into sun again
when sight returns
it’s too late
for defensive moves
to avoid the inevitable

CaLokie

WAR DANCE


1923

Mom was 12 when her father abandoned her mother
three sisters and three brothers
They moved to a town where some oil rich Osages lived
in the best houses in town

Some Osage classmates were attracted to Mom’s red hair
They laughed when she said she had some Cherokee blood
But when some of them met her dark haired, brown eyed, dark
complected mama they believed her

They invited her to a pow wow on the nearby Osage reservation
She was awed by ceremonial dancers in resplendent regalia
Then white haired elder arose to speak
He addressed assembly in native tongue
interpreted in English

He exhorted them
to go back to the blanket for warmth
to moccasins instead of boots and high heels
to the horse instead of stinking, noisy cars
He begged them not to take white mates in marriage
but to wed each other and rear their children in Osage ways

After speech, war dance begins
Some dancers brandish swords
some wave tomahawks over heads

Mom was never so terrified
She was relieved to walk away
with red haired scalp intact


1966

One year after the riots or rebellion
depending on your point of view
I attend the Watts Jazz festival
In the afternoon under the junk sculpted tower of Simon Rodia
The drumbeat was like a flower power fiesta at a love-in
and deep in my heart
I do believe
that one day
WE
black and white together
SHALL OVERCOME

But as Hugh Masekela trumpet fanfares
West Coast sun down
majority of minority European Americans
leave festival
I was left with a few whites lost in the immensity
of an African night

A Black Power beat takes over drums
Flash backs to year ago unrest follow
“BURN, BABY, BURN.”
“GET WHITEY!”

Suddenly blonde Euro in bare midriff
stands up in spotlight and shakes blue jean booty
to roar and laughter of crowd

A jazz brother needs ride
and in my ’53 Chevy I drive him to his ghetto home
My fading blue clunker could have broken down there
but it didn’t

And even if it did
as Miles Davis might have “kind of blued”
with muted horn
“SO WHAT”