Responsibilities in the morning

Before the tin was left nearly empty, the weather began taking a dramatic turn but the behavior worsened in the sixth grade but somehow lessened in the seventh. Announcements for buses were nowhere near and the chatter was incessant with the exception of the few willing to learn. In almost every class, at least one student possessed athletic abilities and small stature while peers carried fuller frames and personalities expressive of a desire to learn.

With contributions from specialized students of scheming, the review twisted into more of a game where admitting a selection of a prize to the strongest performer garnered more attention than perceiving respectful behavior as the norm. Chaos ensued in the peculiar manner dismissals incited. It was clear the organized process of the activity evaporated with Mr. F’s management of the classroom the first week of the year. Smiling was one mistake realized merely three weeks into the year but something from which he felt vital to recover.

Not in a long time had Mr. F been challenged in tactics encouraging adaptability, wit and creativity on such fast pace and in large volume but a challenge of significant proportions it was. Instances of hardship were ill-phrased obstacles worthy of time and consideration, especially when seeking an immediate resolution, but he decided this would be rewarding on several levels.

Before resting for the next morning, Mr. F gazed at the night sky.
Before resting for the next morning, Mr. F gazed at the night sky.

These thoughts of the classroom circulated as quickly as people who passed the counter at Mr. F’s frequent destination. Old Bess offered a banquet for the senses and spirits but very often turned into a mecca of inebriation. Though he could savor a bottle or two by himself, customary it was to find him observing fellow patrons and engaging in delightful conversations with the ease of a butterfly out of its cocoon while offering libations to new and familiar comrades. Memories of Old Bess and visits to familiar places strung together his daily habits in spite of inevitable responsibilities in the morning.

fool who shouldn’t walk the line

[This is meant to be hummed/sung as an exploration
of the blues through an omniscient narrator.
Think Pink Anderson, J.D. Short, Otis Rush, Sonny Terry]

Through the screen of a window, the sun shines brightly
illuminating leaves small and still dangling
from branches reaching far above the lazy streets.
Suddenly, a sweet female voice shouts with fury
to confront a gentleman whose tone’s so raspy.house on Farmington

Their argument resembles the blues
if two voices could be used
to show how emotions
can lead to such confusion.

Words are unclear until the woman exclaims,
“Boy, you’ve got me sitting idly
only to tell me someone’s waiting on you.
I said why you got me sitting idly
when someone’s already waiting on you?”

The gentleman sways his body weight to the other side,
flings his arms up, then loudly declares,
“Now, now, now don’t go chasing me with your insanity
just cause you couldn’t come to that party,
though I won’t deny seeing you then would have been mighty nice.”

To which the woman responds with an extraordinary howl,
“Don’t you dare try that move,
I hear about what you’ve been up to.
It’d be best to use less trickery
so I don’t keep feeling like such a fool.”

With disbelief, the gentleman replies,
“I wonder why you act so funny
but your words show me you misread
why I have to go run and hide.
I guess you don’t, no, you don’t know much about me.”

The woman can’t help but laugh with a bit of surprise,
“Honey, hasn’t there been enough time spent
reflecting on our likenesses?” Even as he nods his head,
with pity she says, “Don’t talk to me
like I’m a fool who shouldn’t walk the line.”

When the gentleman pauses, his eyes widen
and jaw drops so he can express,
“This only proves what wasn’t meant to be.
Damn, now I see what woes may come
in more forms ’an one by over thinking compatibility.”

Hidden behind her hands, the woman gasps incredulously,
“I can’t believe I wasted time
helping you find comfort in being divine.
Oh, why does this happen
whenever I help minds of a new light?”
house and tree on Cass
All of a sudden a car in the distance
screeches noisily to a halt
but the two continue bickering
as though nothing happened at all.

Before the gentleman opens his mouth,
he points to the smoky scene,
“Maybe that’s a sign you ought to consider
in saving some of that energy.
Yea, you may want to learn how to use that energy.”

This makes the woman cringe and reply abruptly,
“You take and take but stand without
any respect for my universal love.
So silly, oh, so silly to think
you’d be there in my time of need.”

Stomping her heel against the ground
making cement seem quite hollow,
she advised him, “Send me no more temptations
to things you know I like to doing.
Time enjoyed was heaven sent, was it ’cause I’m such fool?”

The woman repeated, “I said the time enjoyed was heaven sent,”
then the two said in unison,
“And I’ve met the self I’ve suppressed for so long.
Maybe you’re the reason why
it’s easy for it to be hidden and found.”

whose progress

What can be said about the Guantanamo hunger
strike
if information is not being shared honestly
by those who can deem information appropriate
for public consumption? How surreal it must
be to live in a community in which top tiers
of a hierarchy can be occupied only through
hospitalization as a form of identity preservation. 
Are there more examples of working toward self-
hospitalization as we strive in the direction
of goals with fulfillment being the least
contemplated aspect of relevance?

A way to recover from the horrendous facts
of the prison’s deterioration is to celebrate our
purpose, determine how we can share our strengths
and dismantle the umbrellas of power, which create
and bombard chaos. A wave of hope enters the mind as
Mykki Blanco is elucidated as an entity known to
celebrate the self and declare eccentricities as a
culmination of a powerful character. Discussions
of progression with one’s identity, whether focusing
on educative or frivolous tangents, can reap innumerable
benefits for future generations in the realm of promoting
identity awareness and expression but who can think of
the self when prisoners with alleged criminal backgrounds
are treated so horribly as national leaders have yet
to address or implement viable solutions for the violent
treatment of individuals making claims of injustice
with the only tools of protest available, which are
losing stamina to strive as body mass shreds
as quickly as their dignity within Guantanamo?

Do diplomatic responses to troublesome matters
usually invoke questions of societal contribution
to the matter rather than speak directly to the
topic at hand with clear indications of a plan
to address abusive marginalization? Sluggish
resolution with immovable forces seems
strikingly similar, in the midst of conflict
regarding identity especially in terms of
restrictive energy and the absence of viable
alternatives for the security of prisoners, while
progressive efforts are made in expressing one’s
identity. These topics seem so prominent at
this hour, on this day, through these tinted
lenses which conceal a swollen eyelid but why?
Maybe Mr. Quattlebaum’s persona is an epithet
of overcoming trials and tribulations while securing
in space and time an opportunity to share with the
world ideas worth contemplating, much like prisoners
are fighting in space and time to uphold rights
and ethical codes in the face of undisclosed
withering operations whose progress is unknown.

many pages and half moons

The first warm breeze of the spring season
tickled a young boy’s ears for no apparent
reason. He watched the branches’ rigid
movements and let his nose be overwhelmed by
the scent of moist soil until upon a horizontal
current slid a screen door. When he turned
around and saw his playmate run from afar, he
felt in the pit of his stomach a desire to learn
what he’d heard once in the schoolyard.

“What is respect,” a young boy asked his
playmate in a sandbox who responded to the
interrogation with a face so coy.

“I read in a book with many a page and half
moons respect is something you feel if an
honorable impression is made.”

Staring at his toy and then at the sand, the young
boy inhaled and said, “The feeling I get when I
sit on a train, seeing trees and clouds whiz by in
the sky, is this an instance respect can be applied?”

The corners of the playmate’s mouth turned
upside down but he stayed calm for he enjoyed
the effect of a verbal merry-go-round. “When
you sit on a train respect could be felt, as long
as you’re not thinking of yourself.”

The young boy’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Not think of myself? Well, you must be joking!
I’m most happy and can twaddle for hours when
I see the world and it speaks to me.”

The playmate laughed heartily and exclaimed to
his friend, “Now you must be the one who’s
joking for the world does not use words to talk
to human beings! We’re on it because it’s only
here to be seen!”

“Take that back,” said the young boy in a fury.
“I’ll have you know the trees and grass have a
bond with the wind and rain as much as you and
I have in this sandy space.”

Shaking his head and peering around, the
playmate stood up and looked quite proud.
“This area is for everyone to use and enjoy,
not to…”

Before he could finish, the young boy inserted,
“Isn’t it everyone’s duty to employ gentle senses
when understanding all forms of nature’s beauty?”

The playmate answered quickly, “How do you
come up with a word like employ when you just
asked me to clarify simple terminology?”

“Words of that sort seem easy to understand
while terms of so common seem abused by the
absence of comprehension regarding the realm
imbued by simplicity.”

The playmate shrugged then looked toward the
heavens. “Maybe the self can be included in
thought when it comes to respect of this
wondrous environment.”

southern something

The couple behind me, eating
in the Atlanta airport, were
discussing enthusiastically
their strong distaste for
current occupations and
the mother expresses rather
fervently a situation in
which a manager approached
her about something that she
(the mother) needed to address.
Before this conversation took
place, the mother scolded
the young child in attendance
for demonstrating an inappropriate
amount of carelessness before
arriving at the table while
there in the line to exit
the plane. The child remained
quiet throughout the adult
conversation of the workplace
and extraordinary frustration with
employers but I didn’t notice
the age of the little one until
I turned casually to find my
waitress and to my surprise,
she was barely ten years old.

As the parents carried on, the
next interruption from the
child came about what was
being referred to when
the waitress asks about
a drink in the rocks to
which the father explained
affectionately using the glass
of water in front of him as
an example of what it means
to serve a drink on the rocks.
The young one then asked about cutlery
that was lain on the tables; the
knife was the only plastic piece
on the table top. When I heard
this, I immediately thought,
Well, someone can most certainly
stab someone with a fork, in response
to the argument posed by the father
regarding federal regulations on
what can be carried on a plane.
To my pleasant surprise, the
young one rebutted with a
similar question but more
in a way that made one feel
ridiculous for not considering
such a hypothetical situation.

I couldn’t help but smile
and notice my ears perk up
when the mother began speaking
of how well the waitress had
been doing her job based on
the waitress’s affectionate
diction and agreeable service.
The waitress was a splendid
breath of fresh air but at
the same time, I couldn’t
help but feel like this
was my initial immersion
in Southern hospitality.
Oh, she did have a special
something about her though
(the waitress) in the way she
makes one feel so very welcome
in a very foreign environment.
I believe her name is something like
Tekneshia and her spirit is meant to be celebrated
after hearing the way she used her diaphragm for a brief melodic moment.