where have you been?

whew. did anybody get the license number for the bus that ran over me these last few days. I don’t feel like i’ve been myself since Saturday or Sunday. Can’t recall the last blog entry or what i was talking about. miraculously i awoke monday with a huge poem in my mind. thanks to Taalam Acey being at Midtown Arts and Coffee Lounge (that’s what ‘ACL’ stands for–how clever) and he blew my ears off. 

let me tell you about that first, before i tell you where i’ve been. Taalam Acey is about 6′ 5″ maybe more, thin with a chiselled cut chin. he’s probably about 35 years old. he did about 20 straight minutes of memorized poetry that was out of this world. simply put, he’s a rock star in the poetry slam community. and he inspires. 

talking about marbles in buckets 

Oh, he’s published alright. he’s an intelligent man too. i can tell he’s thought a lot about a lot of things. i decided to purchase “the market 4 Change, the new and collected work of Taalam Acey: Disc Two” which is 27 tracks of a mix of socially conscious and erotic poetry. but there’s more to Mr. Acey than meets the eye. He’s a Renaissance man.  one of those guys who really, truly loves women. so if that’s your pleasure, go get the album. or notify me and i’ll consider sharing it with you. 

Consider it 

I think i want to hear more of his socially conscious pieces. even tonight as i write my blog i’m listening to this disk and i realize that i took him with me to bed and awoke the next morning with this down-trodden women, walking away from a Village Pantry with a Big Gulp. I seemed to know her too well so I began to write. 

Here’s what i got so far…. 

Cutting Hair 

You see, I have to write the story
Of his woman
I feel I know her too well
Though we’ve never met
Have we?

Wonder who is the woman I see
In the mirrow staring at me
I look left, she does too
I look right, she does too
I close my eyes,
I can’t see her anymore

It’s been a couple of eternities
Since she’s had it
Her hope is gone, replaced by
A sense of
Obligation and smothered by
A blanket of

Her life begs for more
And each day faithfully
She takes her penny cup
And her sign that reads
“will work for change”

And stations her self on an
I465 exit ramp
But at the end
Of the day
She’s four cents short
She’s got bills piling up everywhere

She prays “God I do not have enough money
To pay my bills each day
I am trying to do what you
Oh God
Have asked of me
Yet I still every day choose
Paying the mortgage this month
Or settling up with everybody else
And have a little left
For herself–for someone else”

There she is, she, with a Village Pantry Big Gulp
In one hand and her baby on her hip held
Secure with the other
Invisible to most but I see her vividly
In my waking dreams
She doesn’t bother me while I sleep

And the years show on her face
Her hair needs a perm, standing on edge pony tailed
For practicality
After all, who wants baby poop in her hair
Might as well cut it
Might as well let it go
Might as well let everything go

It’s been a couple of eternities now
Since her hopefulness left
Since her optimism kissed her good-bye
She followed after he who broke her heart
Left her a new mother, a baby on the way
Bills and no money
Left her and never looked back
Left her and never thought about her again
Left her and never had any interest
In the fruit of their love
The son, unborn who sits on the floor
In a dirty diaper, playing with Lego blocks
Before he has realized he is soiled
And he too begins to cry
Just left her

So you see I have to write the story of this woman
I feel I know her too well
That we’ve met–in the magical mirror land

© Diane L. Lewis
I Know This Woman
May 24, 2010 

Oh, by the way, i spent Tuesday in an eye clinic trying to figure out why i had blinding pain all Sunday evening and all day Monday. The experts had to idea what was going on. I go back to see the experts again on Thursday. stand by… 


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