There is so much more to say about it, but that's for later. Right now, you can read some of the things I wrote.
The following are poems by Annemarie Jason. Please contact me for permission to copy them.
BEAUTIFUL GRIDLOCK
When fireworks bloomed in Delaware Park,
we sat in our cars
looking up at a profusion
of asters glowing,
chrysanthemums spreading,
starflowers zooming,
bright petals drifting.
We started smiling
with our baby teeth again.
Our tan hands,
white hands,
hands dark as sky’s loam
clapping,
waving,
honking our joy
as we sighed skyward
that night
in the garden
that belonged to us all.
FOR DONNA
If you give a woman cancer,
she’s going to grab hold of life and hang on tight.
When her hand starts shaking and losing its grip,
she’s going to need a hand from a friend
to strengthen it and keep it steady.
When her hand has steadied,
she’s going to need some of the smallest hands
to form a circle around her like a hug for her heart.
Once the circle is complete,
she’ll need still some Kleenex to hold her tears and fear.
Then she’ll have to practice throwing that Kleenex away,
over and over and over.
Once she has done that, she’ll have strong muscles
from all of that throwing.
And if she has muscles,
she’s going to want a mirror for some self reflection.
Then she’ll realize that she needs
a fabulous muscle rainbow shirt to show it all off.
Once people see that shirt, they’ll feel her strength
and they’ll walk with her, talk with her, find hope with her.
They will help keep her hand strong and steady,
for if you give a woman cancer,
she’s going to grab hold of life and hang on tight.
Marlon Tortola, British Virgin Islands Kelly Sinclair 2008
MARLON
There he kneels
in the sand,
spindle-legged child,
his long fingers
placing each shell
in its proper nest,
the sun rosing the tenderness
of his thin neck.
The gull’s screams,
the boat’s buzz,
the young men’s shouts
have flown past his ears,
so that only the wave’s lullaby
remains -
shoo-shah, shoo-shah, shoo.
Suddenly he is taken up
into the roughness of
muscled arms.
His brothers carry him,
their laughter like
so much glass shattering
his stillness.
Its shards pierce his soul.
His weakness
cannot bear their strength;
his struggle is brief
as he makes his own
cocoon.
For as they bury him,
as they pile sand
around his tears,
he knows that
there are cracks
in this mound,
and there will be places
where his cocoon
will begin to open.
Then he can soar
to where
there is a proper nest
for shells
and
beautiful boys.
PETER
So elegant,
he parades,
cigarette holder held like a scepter,
fingers and arms ringed with silver lapidary,
his head full of when he will spin
another tale of antiquity
for his enchanted audience.
Why did his story end
with his wasting away,
each of his charms disappearing
one by one,
his elegance swallowed
by a beast he could not see?
CHILDPOEMS
DELICIOUS WORDS
Let’s fill up this jar
with delicious words
that you can feed
to anyone
who wants to find out
how life can taste.
IMAGINARY FRIEND
Do you have
an imaginary friend?
I need to know,
so when you come over
I’ll know
how many
cups and saucers
to pretend.
WE ARE FIVE
We are five
and our stories
explode from us with joy.
Please listen,
so we can sparkle up your morning.
Sparkle dust sticks with you all day,
you know.
PLACE OF WONDER
When
small children are with us,
we can remember
how we once
looked upon the world
as a place full of wonder,
how its treasures
beckoned us
to
never,
ever
stop looking.
JANIE
How big is her heart?
She doesn’t know.
She just keeps it open
and people keep coming in.
No one wants to leave
because
it’s just the right kind
of warm.
THE BEST KIND OF SPECIAL
Today
we wrote about
why we are
special
and
some people
said they were
smart,
or funny,
or
or cute.
One girl
was even
proud
of her burping
and snoring.
But
the best kind
of special
was what
one child wrote:
“I am loved.”
FOR EMILY
There are so many words
and now
Emily can put them together
like special friends who have a story to tell.
Emily can write these words
like a girl with a surprise that opens up like a flower.
Emily can read word after
word after
word.
She can stand tall on top of the chair
to let everyone know
that Emily
is full
of
wonderful words
because
Emily
is full
of
wonderful!
FIVE
To be five
is
to take joy
in
little things,
to look closely
at
a leaf,
a bug,
a snowflake
on a sleeve,
to marvel
at
a perfect moon
floating still
in
a sky
of
velvet indigo -
so vast,
yet so close
to
the joy
of
little things.
