My only crime is writing.
I descend into sin when I flaunt how much I enjoy this writing thing
and wanting to wallow in it as much and as often as I can
as if it were melted chocolate
in which to bathe
No Complaining
it should be a law
then complainers
would have to find
solutions
or shut up
it emanates
from self dissatisfaction
that has to be passed on
refusal to look
at self agency
and a willingness
to stay stuck
dissatisfied
the same story
get told over
and over
at the same registry
recommendation
find what is good in your life
seek out and report
on the beauty in the world
smile more
develop an appreciation of others
change what you don’t like
just leave your stories
at the door
Our Walk
Tuesdays we walk Manchineel beach
most call is Hay Penny
the vernacular for Half Penny
but these tempting looking apples
that line the beach are poisonous
I alternate between walking and jogging
jumping over waves racing beyond the shore line
At the end of the beach where rocks
form a barrier I perch on a pillar
allowing my mind to wander as is often
my eyes search the landscape
taking in the ridges of the hills
the greens and blues and straw colored too
Brian meets we half way
after treading in the bush
he has husked 2 coconuts
the water sweet but little
I spoon out the firm meat and chew slowly
my breakfast
On our return walk
we pick up plastic bottles
cans paper trash others
careless leave behind
unmindful that paradise needs help
to maintain her beauty
I stop to photograph the nesting bed
of a leatherback sea turtle
now is there hatching season
a gentle wind fans my face
the sun polishes my back
arriving at our favorite spot
I diving into the temperate ocean
grass snags my feet
waves tickle my nostrils
my gratitude is boundless
This Day
today de body said
lef me be
mind says
kyan tink
moved from
pillows to bench
to tree to sofa
an achiness
a floating
an in-betweenness
overload
trying too hard
to rectify
remedy
amend what needs
to be left alone
the world continues
to turn
if it really does
jus settle
inner knowing advises
rain nah fall today
Simple Things 3
meditating in the tea house
built in the almond tree
my eyes turn to the bananaquit
as it lands in the fur of cotton
trapped in the lemon tree
then flits to the top of the almond trees
lost among the thick pear-shaped leaves
not even its brilliant yellow-breasted
stomach can i see
but no time to ponder
its actions
lucia feeding the dogs below
attract my attention
as he bangs on the branch of the tree
to get powder’s attention
who raises its hind legs
to the branch and dances
all the while my chime
continues its ceaseless
sounding
tinkle tinkle tinkle
like a dervish dancer
caught in the frenzy of his own
swirling
Simple Things 2
walking out unto the patio
picking thyme
hanging clothes on the line
the history of work and food
the love of soil
forced from us
years of free enslaved labor
the image of poverty
stamped unto africa
the almond tree
shedding leaves
sweeping the leaves
from the guinep tree
sighting a deer
kin to those brought to st croix
over 200 years ago
the ocean on the horizon
looking mostly white
a sliver of blue
declaring its true identity
sipping my coffee
lizards scamper
from branch to branch
all is well in my world
this gifted day
simple pleasures
coconut water
freshly cut by
the man who loves me
waking to the sea and the trees
painting the door blue
catching up with a friend
had not heard from in years
his lips brushing mine
sitting at my desk
listening to the breeze sashaying
flirting with trees and
tossing leaves into the air
the fragrance of sweet peppers
pungent but not hot
coconut meat firm and crunchy
door wide open
leaves blow in
he eats his salad
i drink my smoothie
we are
home
Interview and Review of 4-Headed Woman by Jacqueline Bishop
Alive
waking
i find that all along
life has been happening
beauty surrounds and supports me
that all the I seek to know
reveals itself
like a tight fisted ball of cabbage
that i peel away
layer by layer
eyes see splendor
and are satisfied
heart shares love
and is grateful
mind connects with others
and receives blessings
Peace Beckons
the peace that i live
emerges from the sand
just as a land crab
that scuttles in and out of its hole
entrance to its home
peace speaks in myriad ways
through sounds colors and winds
in the lapping of the water at the shore
through the steady rhythm of my heart
peace is all that i see
blue bluing
sky skying
sea seaing
nothing needs to be said
breathe and breathe and breathing
water washing sand
sand rinsing sand
leaning into paradise
this is the journey home
the trek where self finds self
and says you are okay
i’m alright
i love you as you are
love me as i am
nothing else for you to be doing
beside self
this is the truth in this moment
taking steps that are not just circular
but leads to a wall
where a window gets erected
so you can see that woman
that you will become
in three decades
and you will look out and say
oh it is you
who have finally arrived
welcome
sit and lookout
on the memories
you’ve created
in peace
Opal Palmer Adisa 