In My Hands (Monday Poem)

 by Marilyn Singer

 

 

I like to hold in my hand

    a baseball,

    a shell,

    a fistful of sand,

    a feather,

    a letter,

    a red rubber band.

Things that tickle,

Things that trickle.

Things to snap and toss and fold

    or just hold.

 

 

from Falling Down the Page

edited by Georgia Heard

Roaring Brook Press, 2009  

 

 

 

Just Look! (Monday Poem)

by Valiska Gregory

 

 

A cardinal in red velvet,

two doves in stylish gray,

four sparrows dressed in tattered brown,

a loud-mouth bully of a jay,

 

a foxy squirrel in brown-gold fut,

a chipmunk with cheeks bulged fat,

and in the maple tree a crow

as calm as a monk in black,

 

a nuthatch skittering down the trunk,

and gossiping grackles below ---

we see their trick-track twiggy feet

write messages in snow.

 

Our gifts of thistle, millet, seed,

seem small under endless sky,

but watching them feast, our hearts are full,

as if we too might fly,

 

 

from Falling Down the Page

edited by Georgia Heard

Roaring Brook Press, 2009  

 

Nineties (Monday Poem)

 by Angela Johnson

 

 

Had to leave the South

to hear somebody call me a nigger

for the first time.

Had to have my head 

out the window in

a west side neighborhood

in Cleveland

to hear a girl about my age

scream that knifing word

at my mama's car.

Had to make Mama stop

so I could look at the

face of somebody who

dressed just like me

and probably

wanted what I did

from the world,

bu would never live in

mine.

 

 

from The Other Side: Shorter Poems

by Angela Johnson

Orchard Books, 1998  

 

Counters (Monday Poem)

 by Angela Johnson

 

 

My Uncle Fred has a slash

across his face from

some redneck

trying to

stop him from ordering

a lemonade from a lunch counter

in Montgomery.

When the weather changes, it

aches him, he says,

but smiles when

he says it, whenever he says it.

All my mama could remember

was how Grandmama had

screamed and 

talked about 

leaving the South.

 

All I can think is

how terrible it was

and how beautiful

it made him.

 

 

from The Other Side: Shorter Poems

by Angela Johnson

Orchard Books, 1998  

 

Crazy (Monday Poem)

 by Angela Johnson

 

 

You'd have to be 

crazy

to want to live

your life in

a place like Shorter, Alabama.

The heat,

the red ants, and 

twenty miles to 

any mall.

You'd have to be crazy

to want to live

in a place where

every other person is

related to you

and thinks they know

everything about your

life.

 

You'd have to be crazy

to want to wake

up every morning to sweet

magnolia and moist red

dirt.

You'd have to be 

crazy.

 

 

from The Other Side: Shorter Poems

by Angela Johnson

Orchard Books, 1998  

 

 

Dancing in the Moonlight (Monday Poem)

by Angela Johnson

 

 

Me and Kesha Cousins used to dance to hip-hop music in the woods.

Boom box blasting through the trees.

We had to do it in the woods 'cause her parents

got saved and didn't allow it.

Kesha just wanted to dance.

In a video maybe one day, she said.

Figured she could still get in heaven if dancing was her only sin.

 

Kesha met a boy at the revival in Waugh,

then we stopped dancing in the moonlight.

Next time I saw her she was slipping

out of the Blue and Gray Club in high heels.

I guess she figured after she'd sinned

more than once heaven was closed to her.

 

 

 

from The Other Side: Shorter Poems

by Angela Johnson

Orchard Books, 1998  

The Other Side (Monday Poem)

 by Angela Johnson

 

 

I used to stand on top of the shed in the back of my

grandmama's house and see the other side.

The other side of where I was.

The other side had tall building and I could buy

hot dogs and pretzels on the street.

At night the hum of the subway and faraway sirens

would put me to sleep.

I dreamed of the other side.

I'd seen it on vacation and TV.

The other side didn't have a creek or magnolia trees

and warm women who smelled like cookies hugging you

on hot, sticky Sunday afternoons.

 

If I stood for a long time,

the other side would fade and

where I stood would light up my world.

 

 

from The Other Side: Shorter Poems

by Angela Johnson

Orchard Books, 1998