Transformation Haiku

The Ancestors live
Blood still flows through you and me
Death is not the end

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Camel Tracks, an excerpt

We finally arrived to Luxor via sleeper car train from Cairo

Valley of the Kings, Valley of the Queens, Tomb of Hatshepsut and others

Mouna a Nubian woman, our tour guide was full of wisdom jewels 

she shared many stories along the way that others will never know...

Approaching the Valley of the Queens

Police with huge machine guns were assigned to be our escorts

in fact they were obligated to protect us

as we were honored and recognized as direct descendants 

kinship to those in the Valley and Tombs and Phantoms in the wind...

It was long day happenings and we took a 30 minute 10 minute break 

breathing life while leaning and sitting against an Alabaster restaurant 

offering us juices of Mango and Hibiscus to freshen our parch...

a Nile River view to open our minds...this trip would change everything

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Thursday Night News

I got the news
a peer had left us
too soon gone and too young

I got more news
a family member had to go
patriarchs don't exit easy

God speaking to us a friend said
so sorry for us left behind

I got heaviness hovering tonight
petitioning hallelujah rains of joy for the mourning

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Monthly Haiku

Food Rent Car And Gas
Girl Still Paying Student Loans
Dance Pray Dance Pray Dance

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Pick Me or Opportunity Window

They all had their hands out reaching
reaching for one thing, something, anything
anything that would confirm, validate, mark them worthy
worthy beyond the company they keep, private thoughts they hold
hold tight in their neck vein, promises to not be angry
angry when they have every right to be or not to belong
belong to that group over there who always seem happy
happy not being them or requiring so much more
more than average from this course
course of life cycling to and fro around in circles
circles too blended to be broken, locked doors...windows
windows...that's the latest entry portal to success

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Foster is Nice & Honest

Being nice goes a long way but being honest goes even further
Can't remember the last time someone went out of their way
to walk me to my car...I mean sure, yes night was upon us
but having some place to be next means that goodbyes are quick
and taking a pass on idol chit chat was the norm
It was burnt Bar-B-Q Friday at Lola's Place,
the best kept secret in Laurelton, Queens
Lola was from North Carolina but could really cook
I mean she cooked like she was from Arkansas
reminded me of  mom's home-cooking
so I didn't mind taking that trip every now and then from the City
took me 2 hours one-way  with traffic backed up on the Tri-boro
a couple of accidents and 2 or 3 tourist drivers slowing up things
but I finally got there and pleasantly surprised it wasn't packed
ordered my Cabbage and Greens, Black-eyed Peas,
Cornbread, Potato Salad, Burnt Ribs,
Banana Pudding & 1/2 gallon of Grape Kool-Aid
Lola had run out of Sweet Tea and Mint Julep
put up a sign saying Grape Kool-Aid was on the house
so I  wanted at least a 1/2 gallon for my trouble
no problem for Lola, in fact she gave me two gallons because I'm a regular
I felt kind of bad knowing I had gave up Kool-Aid back in college
along with Ramen Noodles and Now-Laters that kept getting stuck in my teeth
I'll give it to somebody, that's what I get for being greedy
Anyway, the music was blasting as usual
Bobby Blue Bland was giving me a headache
I wonder why it's taking her so long tonight and no one is even here
oh good she's bringing me an appetizer
I knew it! She's trying to sell me on these Turnip and Mustard Greens
she know I only eat Collards...ok thank you
yes thank you I'll try them this week...she must have run out of Collards
sent her son to the Bodega or something to get more
uh huh yea, I know exactly what's going on
should be grateful she's willing to feed my picky palate
an hour later finally 2 full bags of smell good food
I don't have to check because she always hooks me up
Lola came out from the kitchen to hug me before I leave
whispers that her son is still single
I immediately remind her that there are a lot of nice single woman
who would love to marry her son but I'm not one of them
I tell her this on every visit and she laughs
her son Foster approaches us, smiles at me too long
picks up my bags, announces that he will walk me to my car
thank you Foster but I'm good I say
no you're not I'm walking you to your car he responds
I'm in no mood for arguing so off we go
Foster gently places my bags of Southern Soul Food for the week
in my backseat
that was nice, he's nice and yes it's nice to have someone
carry bags and open doors
uh oh why is he smiling at me again
thank you Foster I have to go now...huh...
you have to tell me something
I really don't have time to...what...
I have Greens stuck in my teeth
I look in the car mirror...oh wow, I look like I'm missing my teeth
thank you for telling me Foster
he hands me a toothpick, I accept
jump in my car slightly embarrassed
as I head back to the City
thinking I might have a new friend
at least he won't see the burnt Bar-B-Q sauce
it always manages to glaze my nose

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Book Title Block

Lifetime of disconnected words
swirling through head scrabble
why don't you write a book
lipped the foreigner
sitting near on the park bench
no response...thought
please stop talking to me stranger
come on ask me a question
ask me a question he ordered
new thought...get up and walk
slowly backwards turn and run
you understand English right
word connecting phrase...
is this fool still talking to me
nice girl you don't have to say anything
nervous...why is my pepper spray at the bottom of my purse
foreigner places his hand on my shoulder
reflex..."Somewhere Over the Rainbow"
spilled out from some guttural deep
in concert with combat boot kicking him there
every curse word I'm not writing in this poem
eloquently came together
like the scrabble title I hold
one day connecting my stories in books
last thought...the tales of annoying encounters on park benches


by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Awakening

vespertide sets in 

tranquil easy in the ether

pastoral blue notes sing

secure rumblings from the inside

must relinquish my will

but thine will squeeze/drip out every bit 

fear-holding-splitting shell to touch core

that thing no one even knew was there

utterance please forgive my mind

destiny thoughts too vivid to believe

now hands draw letters of love

devout devoted durability mandatory

no settling on appearances

hellos and goodbyes are equally important

eventide takes over 

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Over in Inglewood

Maestros who flow on the radio 1 time

big show on the radio 2 times

get funky with the best of them 3 times

I tunes and the rest of them it's time

hold up 4 minutes til' it goes live

got a dollar on it hiding in my beehive

now break dance break and smile 

voice-lude intro with Richard, Mo & Miles

No his name was Ed Spaghetti 

pink hair is pretty and black wings matter

beautiful scatter-free energies 

parting red seas on airwaves everywhere

hashtag don't sleep accelerate

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman 

 

This ain't figure it out as you go

Winging-it is not for everyone
in fact if you plan on picking up the mic
please, for everybody listening...make it good-memorable
positive stuff favored but even roll on the floor ignorance
is better than a deer in the road frozen where am I face
lasting exactly 3 minutes long...what happened?

I couldn't think of what to say next?

What?!

Yea that lady with the purple Afro-Mohawk walked in and...

And what...you couldn't think straight?

I, I mean...well...

Well what?  You're going to have to tell me something
these people paid for a 2 hour show baby and all you gave us was 10 minutes

I'm sorry, I know but that Afro-Mohawk was blocking the poster

The poster, what poster...wait you mean the big full-length poster of you on the back wall?!

Yea, I practice in the mirror so looking at myself helps...gives me ideas too

Huh!  You have got to be kidding
you mean to tell me
you didn't have your set prepared
you didn't memorize anything, write out your script or nothing...
just think you can plant yourself on a soapbox with a mic
hit it in front of crowd who don't know you from Adam....

But she blocked the poster and at home the mirror always...

The mirror...poster-home...what?!  You can't be serious...

I just needed a comfortable place to look...then I could honestly tell my story

Look at me...looking into someones eyes...other than your own
that's as honest and comfortable as it gets
otherwise ask yourself why you're in this business...
I'm keeping your cut tonight...go take a class somewhere...
had to pull out every trick in my bag to save our box office...

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Bravery matters

Practical mind says this is going to be hard work
Artistic mind says this is going to be a work-out of fun
Practical mind says that's time better served elsewhere
Artistic mind says that's time to serve the invisible masses
Practical mind asks what's the point?
Artistic mind answers the point is!
Practical mind asks how are you planning to pay for that?
Artistic mind answers the wealth will find me!
Practical mind says there's always next year
Artistic mind says right now is the promise
Practical mind says don't stand on that cliff...you might fall
Artistic mind says oh that cliff...my launching pad to fly
Practical mind says that car might not make it on a quarter tank
Artistic mind says I'm glad I got triple-A and a bus pass
Practical mind asks what about the children?
Artistic mind says the children are leading the way
Practical mind says I think you may be in over your head
Artistic mind says that's why I follow my heart

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Audition

Cattle call, lined-up, no union affiliation
concentration on whether to belt or go for the head-note
quote of the day mantra..."you got this"
piss all over the stage uh huh yep  to come
some nervous wreck quickly exits the room teary
weary and shy got checked 'fore leaving home
poem in motion said red means run not stop
cops don't have nothing better to do than harass
grass we're sitting on is concrete
feet tired from standing 2 hours
power push ups like a man to scare away sex-seeker
weaker flipped to strength when he approached in fun
one glance only chance to escape
cape tendencies from a comic book hero once known
grown now sipping tea humming vocalizes spit-drizzle on text
next...finally my turn...

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Angels Among Us? OR Taking the Stairs?

The real reason I ask is because as quiet as it's kept
we all know that a big part of our functioning  is concealed...
concealed in the needing of someone or something
doing the required task on our behalf or for our benefit
once we find out who the someone or something is we must trust...
trust that all the tools in their tool kit are sharp
and/or at the very least jimmy-rigged to work

My neighbor who we'll call Black
who actually wasn't my neighbor
but a former resident of my apartment
a former drug spot turned renovated over-priced 1 bedroom
which continued to be targeted by drug-heads
now lived in the stairwell of the hallway on cold or rainy evenings

As uncomfortable as it was to be greeted
by a sleeping body near my door in the early morning or late night
I was grateful that scratching-shaking-sweaty strangers
didn't dare knock on my door when Black was on-site

Our communication, me and Black...always cordial borderline friendly
he was the first man to volunteer to carry my shopping cart with wheels
up 6 flights of stairs when the elevator was out...every 2 days or so
several men were always hanging around the lobby
only a few willing to help a sister out...maybe 1 flight
never all 6 but smiles and endearing names...Negra and Morena was constant
anyway, I stopped asking Black questions regarding his well-being
he informed me that he had a place to live and food and a nice girlfriend
said he was on assignment when he was at 562...that's the building number
he repeatedly said if anybody tried to mess with me
that he was given orders to handle it...

Something about how he said what he said...
always put me at ease...handle it...given orders to handle it
yea he got me...got me trusting and accepting temporary inconveniences
he was a sharp tool appearing as jimmy-rigged

On the day I moved out, Black was there
first man to volunteer to help
he carried my  Armoire down those 6 flights of stairs
the elevator was out...and all I'm thinking is...this Angel...got my back!

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

A Necessary Fuel

So refined that harsh winds only make the glow more distinguished

Dust storms simply clear the pathway that's waiting

Tumbleweed intertwined stretch flat to service as surface

Mind-mixing-think-tank re-creation right up there

Tall mountains channeling meaningful assignment

A calling that shall not be interrupted by faint applause

Gifts are like food...meant to be shared

Go on now with that platter of gold bread balanced on your crown

Audiences everywhere have been patiently starving

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Crenshaw Soul

Being in the mix of commonality
Among community of familiarity
Cool clapping to gospel beats
Stepping old school rhymes with our feet
Classic soul strolling the streets where low riders call home
Catfish and hollow Pineapples filled with Watermelon Juice
staggered lines await baskets of Fried Broccoli and Fried Chicken
all kinds of Sweet Pies on these mobile outdoor kitchens
Incense smokey clouded my eyes...winked unknowingly...
Was that a snake around his neck?  Oh helllll to the...
and this other one has a pit bull in tow
Young man grabs my hand and professes I'm his future plan...
Uhhh no...this smile you see is my default not de-flirt squirt...
You look like you could be my son...
Go have fun with the get fresh crew...to the left doing the humpty dance
Music everywhere, people watching both natural and fake hair
Baby Carriage's, Wheelchairs, the injured brave this crowd
Loud, black and beautiful...lives that matter all around
Visiting every booth, entering every contest, accepting every free sample...
Hebrews, Muslims and Christians advertising their ministry...
Come get saved for a small fee
But won't cost you nothing to pray with me Sister...
Brother please let me be...I hear you...I see right through...unique
We the people believe in the power...the coming together...
It's so much more than a backyard party...

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Disarm Frustration or More Hugs Required

Respect massages the heart...calms the mind
introduces oxygen to those clogged places
an exercise in generational decency...fragile essence
crying out for relief most sane folk won't comprehend
lost in the wilderness...pretend with me for a moment
a being, lost in the wilderness, begs natures cure for its dis-ease
squeezing the last drop of gel from the Aloe with its third eye
piercing that physical shell...desperately searching for its purpose
on the inside while the tornado spins...the being-our-being falls out of control
judgement, criticism and a list of everything it stole...disrupting life-habit
have it your way and fight...have the high way and love it back healthy
Respect massages the heart...calms the mind
introduces oxygen to those clogged places...
an exercise in exorcising generational weakness...root your strength

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Code for get the Tambourine

Sage and White Candles
Frankincense and Myrrh
Honeysuckle Soap Bubbles kiss the water
Meditation music is 23rd Psalms...sung...Cassette Tape...Grandma
Bended Knees on Hardwood Floors and Concrete
Sweet Potatoe Pie waiting in the Kitchen
It's hot inside at midnight and the Ceiling Fan is broken
A thousand Thank You's and Have Mercies for what's coming...

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

For Cochise

When your memory of 25 years ago is different from his
laughter between voice and speech class
'cause your down south sound was sexy to his ears
gathering growing Artists to discuss Shakespeare turns into A Raisin in the Sun
or Malcolm vs. Martin because being from up south, mid-west, thumb-area in the mitten,
bordering on Detroit, simmering revolution came from the pit of my belly...
not telepathic I like your smile messages...
we're meant to be family not foe...friends not lovers, oh...he listened for a minute
then gifted me a song on flute or harmonica...music-ing his native blues
as my roommates intervened "Oh How I Love Jesus" surround sound-style
'til we just 'bout got kicked-out of our domicile...
pray, chant, meditate, break bread and repeat
good stuff you can't make up as we walked the streets of  New York...
midnight...1 am, 2 am...wee hours of the morning...
still rehearsing those steps, that monologue, our duet for tomorrows 10 am class
he always called me a class act...said you're ahead of your time...
you're not looking at me...or anyone, he said...
just looking ahead, beyond Krush Groovin' School 101
so fast that the notion of running out of gas or accidents or detours was never entertained...
all true...recollection of 1st time voting for a president was Jesse Jackson...
he played Michael Jackson and Taylor Dayne on the boom box
in front of the school on W. 73rd St.
spelled our names backwards in Chickasaw tradition or what he saw as tradition
Nita was there, Ingrid, Randy, Sandra, Willie them...
Trice and Lisa...Joey Barcia...Ivy...
all musical theater babies...all with different memories...of 25 years ago...
most of us still here in the physical realm...
chatting each others ear off like today was yesterday...
when your memory is definitely different from his...well...
that's when you come to accept that genuine connection is timeless
and good memories...priceless...

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Honesty...Love...closer to

Unconditional honesty forced love to step forward

to restore volume to muted voices

to release silent plugs from ears

to unfold tightly-gripped arms wrapped around individual universes

to cautiously but surely allow feet to touch land...

they're standing now...these babies...young and old

closer to-day-star-light-moon-beams-bright...pondering if...

to consider what's already prepared and available or...

to be disqualified by cowardliness 

too smart for yesterday's distraction

too busy to be bothered today...

with eyes lowered...they couldn't see how love stepped forward 

and how honest they stood still

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Media-Scope Perspective

Can't do private in public friend
See public issued your private and then
with settings aside, exposed silence you can't hide
when spotlights you step into are bright everywhere...just saying

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman

Humans Need Attention

Storytelling, live theater, real life reflected via fleshy-boned vessels with spirits, 

genetic memory, heart-humbled mostly, soul walking, purposely positioned 

to edu-tain, irritate, stir-up, trigger that very thing 

that makes us vulnerable when we want to be hard-core gangstas 

or confused when the stranger sitting near us in the cafe unloads a gesture of love, 

a formula defined as song or dance or poem or stare...

we're so uncomfortable that instead of waiting for intermission to make a camouflaged exit, 

we abruptly stand up, knocking over chairs that spill onto the stage, 

barely missing the already injured-one in our horizon-lined view 

and proceed in yelling, at the top of our lungs no less, FIRE, FIRE, FIRE 

while simultaneously hopping like a rabbit on one leg 

and throwing rose petals in the four corners of the room...accomplished mayhem...and curtain

by Shonnese C.L. Coleman