How to Lie to Your Mother

Talk about your cats. You’re worried

the calico is getting too thin, but she

won’t eat any of the food you bought,

not even the organic one. Mention

you’re redecorating your bedroom.

You don’t have a favorite color

at the moment, so you picked blue.

You’ve spray-painted some wall hangings

and you found this paisley print sheet

at Thrift USA. You’re going to make

curtains. Everything is blue.

Say you can’t wait to visit her.

Insist on a trip to IKEA. It’s so close

and you need shelves. You don’t want 

your new roommate to think 

you’re a slob. Dodge the question 

about group therapy. Ask her 

about her health. She always

has a lot to say about it.

Try to remember which medications

have changed. There’s a list

in her purse, but still, someone should

know what she’s taking. Dad doesn’t.

Has it been thirty minutes yet?

You can’t talk for less or she’ll feel 

shut out. Ask about the animals

at the shelter. Are there any new kittens?

Try to stay focused on the details

when she describes them. Make it

into a game. See how much 

you remember later. Check the clock 

again. Wait for her to lose 

her train of thought. Pretend 

you’ve just realized what time it is. 

Tell her you need to get ready for work. 

Say I love you. Say goodbye. 

             Ellie White, 2016

(First published by The Academy of American Poets, 2016)

Young woman posed with a telephone, circa 1915
from the Library of Congress's Prints & Photographs division
via Wikimedia Commons

Sideways

Coming in that way, folks don't even hardly notice.

A glance, and they never knew you were lookin';

a board game, they never knew they had it comin';

a poem, and you just keep on chopping that onion.

Don't picture the black words on the white page 

or worry what they're gonna think.

Just listen to those words in your head, and get ‘em on out.

Don't label drawing "official, career, capital ‘A’ artist" work

And don't even mention the 

"this is what makes me tick" little ‘a’ artist passion 

when they ask you who you are.

Just keep on goin' to the swim meets 

and slapping down that home-cooked chicken on the table, 

all the while slipping in the making 

without your brain even knowing.

Sorta like that first base runner stealing second.

Out of your head, in the zone,

just get on out a step or two 

and start running for all you’re worth.

Afore you know it, 

you're slidin' on in.

You and that second baseman 'll never know what hit 'ya.

© Rie Harris, 2017

Sliding baseball player at a St. Louis Terriers game, 1914/1915
Photo by Russell Froelich
from Wikimedia Commons

From Whom Did I Spring?

Her mother was a slave, her father the master

She was beautiful and vain

She loved life and enjoyed it all

She lived till 100 years

She gave me time and love and stories

She told the time by the way the sun hit the window ledge

And she knew the Bible better than the theologians

How proud and beautiful was she

Her daughter was my grandmother

Who was my “mother” because Mom had to work

She fed us the special foods and ironed my starched dresses

She combed my hair and gave me extra nickels

She scolded me and helped us to grow

She raised siblings and children and grands and foster children

She helped me with my children

And she ironed with love and care

She was a quiet woman

Who gave love always

She lived to 89 and left quietly

How special and loved was she

Her daughter, my mother, had a rough life

She worked hard to provide a roof and food

She was a fighter, young and old,

And encouraged us to move forward

She gave us the time she could

And made us strong and able

She still is part of our lives

A great great grandmother but doesn’t look the part

She is called grandmommie and Gee Gee

She loves being with them, and playing too

How young and vivacious is she who is loved

The women in my family were and are strong

Working hard and raising families

They have left imprints on all of us, young and old

They are queens because their ancestry said it was so

I can be proud of my heritage

Because they were and are Black Beauties

Thank you Lucinda, Nana, and Cinda for the strength and beauty

You are queens, one and all!

          © Hilda Ward, 2017

Nzinga Mbandi, Queen of Ndongo and Matamba
Taken from Nzinga Mbandi: Queen of Ndongo and Matamba from the UNESCO series
on women in African history. Illustrations by Pat Mason
from Wikimedia Commons