And so we wait –

[Doreen Peri]

And so we wait –

for the great break
for the mistakes to be dismissed,
for the mysteries to be solved,
for the significance of years spent
to become apparent,
for the vague aspects
of respect to be detected,
for the winter lights
to ward off a chill,
for our wills to be
reckoned with,
or uninspected truths
to be dissected and explained,
for the reign of misplaced traces
of undetermined matter
to matter once again,
each trick of a bleak moment
momentarily declined
by monotony, the matrimony dry,
the wry smile of sarcasm
sneaking into an irritant grin.

And so we wait –

picking slim determinations
from spiral years
as dear to us as a
clear moment's revelation.

And so we wait –

at our vacuous stations,
many hopeful, many vain,
many unashamed of
their unabashed shams
and we exercise our rights
to complain, we damn
the grand scheme,
develop themes and plans,
band together our desires
with our entire entourage
of talents, gather the best of us
for a whole goal, hold onto
an elusive dream, pretend
we seem to understand
why our train is late,
why our drain runs slow,
why what we think we know
is not what we know
because lord knows
nobody knows when tides
will turn, when the yearn
for an opposing shore
will make more sense
than a tense insecurity.

And so we wait–

surely we wait for the fate
of perfect pieces which fit,
a literal promise fulfilled,
a still life animated,
a reason for breath,
a test passed by the vastness
of being beyond all that's required.

And so we wait –

the tired, the paralyzed,
the unspoken, those who
tend to new possibilities,
those who nurture the needy,
those who trip up the pleading
of empty persona, those who don
many hats, those who cannot
survive a natural disaster
without the aid e of charity
and through much of this
makes little sense, we wait
for sensory perception
to create comprehension,
our eyes in seek of vision,
our fingers in reach of touch
and in as much as i can,
i must, state this more clearly.

Dedication is as fleeting as a dawn.

Gone are the accolades, the tributes,
the various rituals which attempt
to tie the temporal to permanence.
What lasts lasts
only until.
It is finished,
he said, dead to more.
It is finished.

And so we wait –

the weight of the cross
shouldered like
assigned
responsibilities,
and so we sate
our way with steps taken,
forsaken by
misdirection.




......

(interpretation welcome.... what does it mean?)

[mtmynd]

"... what does it mean?"

a posturing stance
a rhythmic dance
a passing glance
an inward trance
yes, what does it mean?

this gentle flow
does she know
from where it comes
and to where it flows
yes, what does it mean?

many things wrapped
in this hip-hop rap
between the trap
before they snap
yes, what's it mean?

read it once
read it twice
between each word
some chill of ice
yes, but what's it mean?

[Doreen Peri]

I've gotta plan to become a Hip Hop Queen!
Gonna call myself Da Middle-Aged Mamma Jamma
aka MAMJA, leap out on stage with my hair
in curlers and cold cream on my face,
wearin' a terry cloth bathrobe (royal blue),
do a rhythmic rhyme or two and dare
the band to a chase behind the curtain,
certain I got their glasses steamed,
then when they don't follow my lead,
I'll do a MAMJA strip tease, lose the robe
slowly and with ease and when the beat
changes to a tribal drum,
get the crowd to hum with me
while I rap about the insanity
of the price of beef at the local supermarket,
take my robe and park it on the back
of a very high stool, while cooin' a cool rhythm
in my shiny red stiletto shoes and fishnet hose.
Yeah, dat be da way my future stage show goes,
me donnin' some skimpy flash,
talkin' some mamma trash
slingin' cold cream, rantin' 'bout
teaser interest rates at the local bank,
hip-hoppin' 'bout the thankless job of laundry
and vacuuming, singin' with my backup group,
the Merry Maids,
blazin' in like Bombeck
'cause what the heck, I be da MAMJA,
batta bing batta boom!
Gonna rule da room!

[mousey1]

what is it about?
what does it mean?
it's about the wait
the standing at the gate for the
flash
the electrifying explosion
and then watching it fizzle


well
of course I don't know
what it means to you
your ulterior mission
but it was a fine jaunt

I tip my hat and tap my cane Mamma Jamma.