ART || poetry: wishes for sons.

wishes for sons

Lucille Clifton

i wish them cramps.

i wish them a strange town

and the last tampon.

i wish them no 7-11.

i wish them one week early

and wearing a white skirt.

i wish them one week late.

later i wish them hot flashes

and clots like you

wouldn't believe. let the

flashes come when they

meet someone special.

let the clots come

when they want to.

let them think they have accepted

arrogance in the universe,

then bring them to gynecologists

not unlike themselves.

ART || poetry.

Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note

Amiri Baraka

Lately, I've become accustomed to the way

The ground opens up and envelopes me

Each time I go out to walk the dog.

Or the broad edged silly music the wind

Makes when I run for a bus. . .

Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars.

And each night I get the same number.

And when they will not come to be counted,

I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

And then last night I tiptoed up

To my daughter's room and heard her

Talking to someone, and when I opened

The door, there was no one there. . .

Only she on her knees peeking into

Her own clasped hands

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This is one of my favorite poems and it's resonating with me right now. There is a story of hope in there, even though the title has the word suicide in it. I could go on, but I won't. I just wanted to share some art with you. :)