Black Calla Lily's Poem Garden: Ruptured Dream

welcome to black calla lily's poem garden

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I am happy that you have decided to come and sit with me. My intention here is to share my words from my center with you. These are words that I write to watch them flow from my pen, watch them dance across my pages and to feel their power as they convey what is in my heart. I chew sweet gum and think sweet thoughts.

I started writing poetry when I was in 5th grade. A kind and gentle teacher told me that it was okay to express myself in this way. I kept a lock and key diary, but I soon gave it up because people would read it without my permission. Nothing was sacred and special for me anymore or anywhere. I began to keep the poems and thoughts in my head. One day my head exploded and all of those words left me. They were replaced with what you will read here. There will be some love, some pain, some fun, some horror, some light and some darkness. Whatever it is, it is mine.

I share it because I have to. Today writing my words keeps me free. I have learned how to use them expressly for that purpose. The release that I feel from these expressions is indescribable. You may not feel it but you will feel my excitement about it. Read them and you will see.

I have found my voice. This is a delicious feeling. Delicious like gourmet milk chocolate melting slowly on my tongue. LOL. Really.

Please feel free to leave comments. Thank you for your support. I truly appreciate it.

Lovingly ,

~~~ Black Calla Lily~~~

Expressively Expressed Expressions-

*** Bright sunshine and silver moonbeams to you ***

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~~~RUPTURE~~~

Tell me
should we
cover it up and hide it
ignore it
and pretend that
its not there?

Or is it possible that this rupture
branded on the landscape of
our lives can become
a distinctive part of
it's beauty ?

2010(c) black calla lily
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Queen Pine

rost on her dress tail
she is showing off quite a bit
tall and wide and sassy
she is waiting for the next wind
so that she can flaunt a bit

she is prettier than the others
and not just when it snows
i saw her in the autumn
showing off different shades of green
in the summer i found her lazy, simply swaying in the breeze.

she has a permanent stage
guaranteed her by her age
the others dont come near her
they know that she is Queen,
resilient, defiant, strong.

and now that it is snowing
she dances even more
swaaaaaying and bending
so lovely to see
the frost is on her dress tail, and she wants everyone to see.

she cant give up her Queen-dom
it would mean that
she would not be free
she is royal, she is regal
a gorgeous site to see

she is a tree
a very special kind
Queen Pine is her real name
Pine if you dont mind.
always and forever, a special friend of mine.

(c) Black Calla Lily

* for lil' debbie*

I have always wanted
to catch that dream
the one that is constant
the one that will free me.

A little girl
a pretty girl
a brown girl

In a yellow dress
with a wide skirt
and yellow satin ribbons

in her hair

A little girl
so happy and free
she laughs all day
while she skips at play

Her brown eyes sparkle
her teeth are so white
she has skinny legs
but thats really alright

Swirling and twirling
in patent leather shoes
soaking up the sunshine
laughing out loud

No one has EVER hurt her
no one has touched her
really rough
no one has said "QUIET"
they all love her so much

A sweet little girl
as smart as can be
running through the wildflowers
so happy just to BE

BUT

She is mad at me now
i couldn't help her at all
i was way to weak myself
i was so very small

Helpless and useless
i watched from
SOMEWHERE
somewhere i dont remember
i just know that i was scared

I couldn't help her
i didn't know how
to let her keep her rainbows
with their gold determination

nor her pretty smile

I cant catch the dream
i cant put it in place
i just keep it in my heart
still waiting for some peace

If it comes I'll be happy
i know she will be too
i'll see her in another life
one that will not have

A

RUPTURE

maybe then
i will BE the dream

(c) Black Calla Lily

A Rose picked too soon by Black Calla Lily ~

A Rose picked too soon.

It was a dry, hot summer that year. I was living in Woodlawn at the top of a cul de sac of brick town homes. There were ten cul de sacs in the complex, each one was named after a type of tree. Mine was called Walden Maple Court. Walden Oak and Walden Cherry were on the right and left of mine.

At the back of each section of cul de sacs was a deep wood. This year we had a cicada invasion and most of the trees now showed the damage from the strange creatures that come every 17 years. The damage left rust colored leaves that made the trees look as if an artist had dipped her brush in rust matte paint and swept it across the crown of all the trees. Even though the leaves were damaged, the rust colored contrast on the green leaves was pretty. The woods were dense with beautiful undergrowth and a lot of wildflowers. The birds were colorful and the squirrels were trying to be busy, but the weather was too hot. They worked lazily.

She arrived in June. When I first saw her I was very curious. I had never seen here around here before. I knew most of the residents on my court.

She was tall, a pretty dark woman. Her hair was bright red, short and curly. She always wore dark glasses. Her clothes were always bright; orange, lime, yellow and red floral or solids. Some days she would wear a long and wide flowing black caftan. She never wore shoes. She never spoke to anyone.

Every day she would come out onto the back porch and sit in the morning sun. She smoked marijuana. The pungent smell filled the still morning air. She drank something from a coffee mug and she burned incense.

She stared into the woods and was still for long periods of time then she would go inside.

She returned in the afternoon. She drank something from a tall glass with ice in it. She always shook her glass and made the ice cubes tinkle. She would laugh out loud.

She smoked marijuana and she burned incense. In the afternoon she would smoke two cigarettes back to back and then she would smoke another joint.

She had a lounge chair and she would stretch out in it in the full sun. She crossed her legs and wiggled her toes. She laughed out loud. She would sit in the full sun for at least two hours staring into the woods. Finally, she would go inside of the townhouse.

In the late afternoon I would see her with her caftan flowing behind her as she walked barefoot into the woods. She carried a folding chair with her and she had a black Coach purse on her shoulder.

I sat near the edge of the woods so that I could watch her without being noticed. I was on vacation for the summer and had nothing better to do besides she was so mysterious that I could not resist watching her actions.

I don’t know why I felt that she was very much aware of my presence and of everything around her even in the thicket where she sat in the woods. Obviously she did not care if indeed she was aware of my presence or of anyone else’s.

She unfolded the chair and sat in it at the base of a huge oak tree. She crossed her legs and searched around inside of her purse. She pulled out three incense sticks and lit them. It smelled like Jasmine but I am not sure that it was. After she blew the flame out, she stuck one incense stick into the dirt and placed the other two between her toes with her legs still crossed.

She looked into her purse again and got a pack of cigarettes, she lit one and leaned back against the tree. Before she finished smoking her cigarette, she reached behind her ear and pulled out a joint. She lit the joint from the cigarette, inhaled deeply, and leaned back against the tree. She smoked from the cigarette and the joint alternately until the cigarette was gone. I watched her pick up her glass with the iced drink, tinkle the cubes and drink. She laughed out loud. She smiled at the squirrels and seemed to be singing with the birds as she slowly swayed back and forth.

She leaned back and stared up at the leaves on the tree above her. She began to blow the marijuana smoke upwards and she laughed out loud. She sat and stared into the woods motionless until the incense stick between her toes burned her foot. She said softly “ oh shit “. She laughed out loud, gathered her things and walked barefoot out of the woods carrying her folding chair. Her black flowing caftan blew easily in the gentle breeze.

She looked regal to me in an odd kind of way. She walked with her head held high as she took slow easy steps and went into the townhouse.

The night sky was a clear navy blue-black and it was filled with sparkling stars. I was sitting on my porch admiring the beauty of the night sky and enjoying the still of the night. There were no sounds, just beauty.

She came outside. She wore all black and she had on her dark glasses. She sat quietly on the steps for a long time staring into the woods. Finally, she lit two incense sticks. This time the fragrance was sandalwood. I am sure of it because sandalwood is my favorite incense scent. She moved down to the bottom step and then stuck the incense sticks upright into the grass.

She lit a marijuana joint, inhaled deeply and then blew the smoke into the night. She laughed out loud. Her laughter filled the quiet night along with the smell of her marijuana. She did not seem to care. I watched her for a long time just staring into the woods as she smoked her joint. She never seemed to notice me. I live two townhouses to the right of where she was sitting. My porch light was off but I was smoking a cigarette, and she never even turned my way.

The next day it rained. I wondered if I would see the lady as I had for the past two weeks. I kept looking for her from my window.

In the late afternoon she came out into the rain. She carried a black umbrella and she wore her black caftan. I watched her enter the woods. She did not wear any shoes even in the rain.

She stood beside a tall oak tree and stared at the bottom of the tree. I saw her peel a piece of bark from the tree. She put the bark on her cheek and her lips. She began to cry. She put her umbrella down and hugged the tree. She cried so hard that her body was shaking. She cried silently and she cried for a very long time.

I felt so sad as I watched her. I wanted to go and comfort her but I was afraid that she would not appreciate my presence at this time. It seemed that she was having a very private moment, even so I kept watching from my open window.

She reached out for a limb and took one leaf. She cried some more. For the first time I heard her speak!

She said “ Oh dear oak tree. Your leaves don’t scare me so much today but look at the base of you, oh beauty. It is soaked with the innocence, blood and tears of the victims who have been violated on this bitter earth at your base.” She fell to her knees and put her arms around the base of the oak tree as far as she could reach.

She spoke again. “You know them, you saw them, you smelled them and you stared harshly at them. They didn’t pay attention, nor did they care. They were cruel and greedy, selfish and violent. Rose looked at you and begged for someone to save her. Your branches and your leaves became her sky. Her sky began to spin around so fast that Rose became dizzy, nauseous and them numb. She closed her eyes, she did not cry, she did not want to be hit again and she thought that if here eyes were closed that the ugly and painful ordeal would end. It did not. You know it did not. Rose counted thirteen of them, how many did you count? This is why Rose was afraid of you for so many years and she hated you too for a very long time. She thought that you would make them stop. You did not – you could not. That was the moment that Rose lost her mind and nobody noticed it leaving her soul. Nobody noticed because nobody cared. But Rose cared dammit, and was helpless against all of it.”

I felt as if I should not be there. It seemed that the lady was having a very hard time. I wanted to help her.

She stood up and wiped her face with her caftan that was now wet and muddy. I felt so bad for her. She seemed to be in a lot of pain, mental and emotional pain.

The rain had stopped. She stood there staring at the ground for a long time. She leaned against the oak tree and reached into her bra to pull out a joint and a lighter. She lit the joint and inhaled deeply. She began to cough very hard. It sounded like the cough was painful and she grabbed her chest. After a few minutes she continued to smoke the joint. She did not cough anymore, she laughed out loud! She stared into the woods as she finished the joint, stared and stood there for a long time.

I began to feel badly for watching her. I was feeling that I had severely invaded her privacy. She was mesmerizing. She was so mysterious that I could not help myself. I wanted to talk to her and hug her to console here and to ease her pain. I did nothing to help her. I went into my own townhouse.

I did not see the lady for the next few days. The people that lived in the townhouse, of whom I was not very close, were not around either. They had about six children and I did not see any of the kids either.

After about a month I saw my neighbors bringing luggage into their townhouse. Obviously they had been on a trip. I smiled because I did miss seeing the children play. They were loud children and they laughed a lot. Their laughter was joyous.

I waited a few days and decided to ask the lady that lived in the townhouse about the lady from the woods; I just had to know how she was doing.

As I knocked on my neighbor’s door I felt a little shy. How dare I go and ask these people about their business. I stayed and waited.

My neighbor came to the door and asked if she could help me. I said “ Hi. My name is Elaine, I live two townhouses to the right of you.” She said “ Oh, hello Elaine my name is LaTrice and it is nice to meet you. I have seen you on occasion.” I smiled and said, “ Please forgive me LaTrice, but I came over to ask about the visitor that you had before you went on your trip. I thought that she was very pretty and she seemed like a nice lady, but I never got a chance to introduce myself.” LaTrice’s face looked sad as she said, “ The lady is my Mom. Her name is Rose. She lives in Philadelphia and we just drove her home. She had to go into the hospital because she was very sick.” I really felt bad then for never asking if I could help her. “ Oh my goodness.” I said. “ I am so sorry to hear that. Will she be okay?” My neighbor said, “ Only the Good Lord knows. I pray that she becomes better soon, but I know that it will be a while. “ I could not hold back my next question. “ May I ask the nature of her illness LaTrice?” She said, “ It’s okay Elaine. My mother has had a severe mental breakdown and she also had to be placed into a detox and rehab hospital that also has a psychiatric unit. Double trouble. I pray that she will be okay.”

I was not shocked to hear this news, after seeing what I saw her go through. I said “ Oh LaTrice I wish your mother the best and a speedy recovery. Maybe when she comes to visit again I will give her some roses.” LaTrice said “ Thank you Elaine. She would like that. I always say that my Mom is a rose that was picked too soon.”

The End

Black Calla Lily

Musings and other head scraps

April is National Poetry Month. April is also Sexual Abuse Awareness Month. I have something to say
SubhanAllaah another day with my dear husband in the hospital. My home is very comfortable, but without him here it seems so empty, too quiet and I dont smell his Oud. I put some on his pillow to feel close to him as tears fell down my cheeks just missing him and praying that he will be better soon. He did need the rest for sure, because he just wont keep still, always has something to do and somewhere to go. So now he will get the rest that his body deserves. He is still in pain from his disorder, but not as bad as a few days ago. I just keep praying . I need to call his room again to see how he is feeling and to hear the bass of his voice. MashaAllaah
My husband is in the hospital. I ask that all of you please make dua for him to have a complete and speedy recovery. I miss his companship so much, his sounds, his shuffle, his breathing, his smell. I miss all of him. He is my bestest best friend. I love Siddiq ibn Mansur al-Awwaliyyah. * sigh *
My friends love me. This is so important to me. They love me for the sake of Allaah, and they love me because they love me. I appreciate their love. It makes me happy. Real Women. Real Talk.
I love my Mother. I pray to Allaah to guide her to this beautiful deen of Islaam. ameen. Her health is failing now and my sister does not make it any better. She is slowly killing Ma with her self destructive behavior. It must be difficult to watch your own child slowly kill herself.
What can you do for someone who seems to be on a mission to self destruct? I love my sister but I am afraid that she has closed all family out of her mind and that she does not care about what happens to herself. She is so depressed. I dont think that she even wants to get better.
Latest news reports are that five terrorist cell groups have been operating in many of our masajid. They have been identified as: Bin Gossipin', Bin Arguin', Bin Fightin', Bin Complainin', and Bin Missin'. Their leader, Iblis Bin Shaitan, trained these groups to destroy the muslim community. The plan is to enter the masjid disguised as muslims and to work from within to discourage, disrupt, and destroy. However, there have been reports of a sixth group. A tiny cell known by the name Bin Prayin' is actually the only effective counter terrorism force in the masjid. Unlike other terrorist cells, the Bin Prayin' team does not blend in with whoever and whatever comes along. Bin Prayin' does whatever is needed to uplift and encourage the muslim community. We have noticed that the Bin Prayin' cell group has different characteristics than the others. They have Bin Workin', Bin Studyin', Bin Fastin', Bin Givin' and Bin Patiently Perseverin' in the cause of Allah! NO MASJID IS EXEMPT! (However, you can spot them if you Bin Lookin' and Bin Goin'.)
Books that I am currently reading
Poem Crazy = Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge
All Aunt Hagar's Children = Edward P. Jones
I gotta crow = Jill Hacket
Mother = Maya Angelou
Breaking Ice = Terri McMillan

Black Calla Lily's Poem Garden

This is who I am

Expressively Expressed Expressions

welcome to black calla lily's poem garden

He is Amazing. He is Wonderful. He is Merciful. He Is !

Expressively Expressed Expressions

~RUPTURE~

expressively expressed expressions

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Ruptured Dream

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A Rose picked too soon by Black Calla Lily ~

Musings and other head scraps

More rows in the garden

Black Calla Lily's Poem Garden

This is who I am

Expressively Expressed Expressions

welcome to black calla lily's poem garden

He is Amazing. He is Wonderful. He is Merciful. He Is !

Expressively Expressed Expressions

~~~RUPTURE~~~

~~expressively expressed expressions~~

Following me?

Search This Blog

Ruptured Dream

0 comments:

Post a Comment

A Rose picked too soon by Black Calla Lily ~

Musings and other head scraps

More rows in the garden

~RUPTURE~

expressively expressed expressions