Poems by Carlos Lopez

PUDDLES

Meet Jenny. Since nine, she’s been a mommy to Mommy and her younger brother, age two, named Tommy ’cause Mommy ain’t there, most of the time and Daddy wasn’t there, none of the time. So this little young Ms. gotta grow up grind— she awakens at sunrise to baby cries while Momma got her nod on from heroin. Around here, that’s the norm. No lie, still Jenny strives, with pride. Hope’s alive that Daddy’s coming back one day and stop sending her checks the mailman way— ’cause she’s growing fast, Tommy too, and she don’t wanna hear him say Who are you? So she does what she gotta do: washes clothes, cops the milk, cleans the crib, and before feeding Tommy, she puts on his bib. She’s a grown-up kid, ahead of time. She blows my mind— how she knows who she wants to be, an M.D., so she can cure Mommy of her wicked disease— Please, God, she prays on her knees as she looks out the window at the rain and the breeze and believes the storm will pass, won’t last.

Tears form puddles in the ghetto when kids parent their parents ’cause they’re drug addicts.

Tears form puddles in the ghetto when people we love decide to suicide their lives.

Tears form puddles in the ghetto when all hope is choked and no one believes.

Tears form puddles in the ghetto. Your ghetto. My ghetto. All ghettos.

Carlos Lopez

MY CHRISTMAS TREE

Space is my Christmas tree, the sun its star. To hell with Harrods! Space is prettier by far!

Carlos Lopez

UNTITLED

Floating, Floating, Floating— Spiraling from the heavens— A lone feather, All black, but for its tip— A never-before-seen silvery white

It continues to fall to earth And with each swirl Another life is revealed— A parallel universe of some kind

Floating. Floating. Floating. Some days, I am light as a feather. Some days, I am spinning out of control.

But I wait with anticipation For the time when I gently land. Where? I do not know.

CONSIDER A CHANGE

When I awoke this morning I was living another day. Would I wake up tomorrow and get to say the same thing? I like some changes but there are some I would prefer not happen. I am glad to grow old, but I hate the aches and pains. I like living longer and longer, but I don’t like being alone. I am living with HIV, but the side effects of the meds are killing me. I am going to change my sad song now and enjoy today as if it were my last.

Shurland H. Aird

GIFTS

Shurland H. Aird

There are many gifts in this world, And many of them are wrapped. Some are wrapped too tight. Some are wrapped too loose. Some have see-through wrapping. Some are wrapped in ego, which devalues them. Some are wrapped with love; Those are always worth more than we pay for them. Some are wrapped in anger, which usually hides Some hidden agenda. Some aren’t wrapped at all. And those gifts are what we make of them.

Shurland H. Aird

CENTRAL PARK, THE LAKE

I sit by the lake and I wonder how something so simple can be so comforting, how something so silent can say so much, how something, through its very existence, can sustain life for so many others. I sit by the lake and I wonder.

Shurland H. Aird CORETTA SCOTT KING

She came from humble beginnings and grew into a strong black woman. Her loyalty to her family was matched by her need for equality.

Her husband was the architect of the Civil Rights Movement, and she was his foundation.

At times, she was in his shadow, but she was always the sunshine of his life.

She nursed on his vision and grew strong as he continued his mission.

She became a leader in her own right. The world is a much better place because she lived in it.

Shurland H. Aird

AM I LIVING OR AM I JUST GETTING OLDER?

It has been said that life is a Banquet and most people are starving to Death. So I ask myself, Am I eating enough? Do I taste the different flavors of life? Am I adventurous enough to try something new? Or should I stick to my usual meal?

The Banquet table gets refreshed constantly, but I’m always in the restroom when the good stuff is brought out, so I miss it.

At times, the table appears to be ten feet tall and I cannot reach it. Other times, I am pushed and bullied to the back of the line. Once there, I reluctantly join the rest of the Starving, the Malnourished, the Dehydrated, the bottom of the food chain.

Please tell me, show me, enlighten me as to how I can select the right foods for me. How can I live—really live? Not just get old.

I am hungry. Feed me, world. Let me partake. LET ME PARTAKE IN THE BANQUET OF LIFE.

Shurland H. Aird

DINNER BY MOONLIGHT

An evening stroll. A fatal mistake. A night made bright as day by moonlight. A hungry pack of snarling beasts. A lone deer took one last step.

Shurland H. Aird

I THINK I CAN

I think I can.

I think I can. I think I can. But to do it, I have to move.

I have to move from depression to acceptance. I have to move from solitude to gatherings. I am glad to be able to have these choices, for with these choices, I think I can, I know I will.

Shurland H. Aird