Every day so lovely, shining,
up and down, the Sultan’s daughter
walked at evening by the water,
where the white fountain splashes.
Every day the young slave stood
by the water, in the evening,
where the white fountain splashes,
each day growing pale and paler.
......
The porter in the Pullman car
Was charming, as they sometimes are.
He scanned my baggage tags: "Are you
The man who wrote of Lady Lou?"
When I said "yes" he made a fuss -
Oh, he was most assiduous;
And I was pleased to think that he
Enjoyed my brand of poetry.
He was forever at my call,
......
Mama, come back.
Why did you leave
now that I am learning you?
The landlady next door
how she apologizes
for my rough brown skin
to her tenant from Hong Kong
as if I were her daughter,
as if she were you.
......
Why is the world at peace.
This may astonish you a little but when you realise how
easily Mrs. Charles Bianco sells the work of American
painters to American millionaires you will recognize that
authorities are constrained to be relieved. Let me tell you a
story. A painter loved a woman. A musician did not sing.
A South African loved books. An American was a woman
and needed help. Are Americans the same as incubators.
But this is the rest of the story. He became an authority.
He started this whole mess,
Whe he met your mom.
Then as we all know-you can guess,
These two fell in love. He became a saint to a lot of folks,
Especially his sons and daughters.
Everybody knew him for his jokes,
His family admired him to no end. Dad was a clown and full of fun.
He tries hard to please us kids.
When he's always on the run.
He does eveything he can, to accept our bids. He was and is mom's favorite,
......
Gratitude knots in my throat.
I am surrounded by the bounty of her sacrifices, yet I let it slip through my fingers.
My heart aches with the weight of her expectations, each one a burden I fail to shoulder.
I am the idle child in the garden of plenty, the squanderer of every gift bestowed upon me.
It's a September morning
Everything inside me is breaking
Everything seems okay yet I am not fine
Can't control this mind of mine
It's easy for you to point at my defect
But I already know I am not perfect
No matter how much I do
It's never enough for you
I wanna do more just so you'll be happy
But they are not cooperating, my mind and body
......
Peaches heated by my sun
A dress so simple and so cotton
Would that child ever come
Back home
Where she is forgotten
Would the wind caress the ankles
Like it did so many times before
Would that land eventually remember
That her daughter is left outdoors?
......
She walks with grace and elegance,
Her every step a dance of joy,
A woman of strength and resilience,
Her spirit free, her heart pure as gold.
Her eyes are deep pools of mystery,
Reflecting the depths of her soul,
Her smile a ray of warm sunshine,
That lights up even the darkest of days.
......
I smelled a perfume
and it smelled like her
Mami
and no she is not gone but the version of me that loved her when she wore the perfume is