No kind of Man... by the way Happy Father's Day!

I don't know when
I came to realize 
He was just no kind of a man,
I mean sure he was an adult,
who put his pants on
one leg at a time,
He was a male,
who had reached his prime,
but no kind of a man,
not quite a man,

Still just a boy,
when she met him,

Just pulling a ploy,

To get her,
not really sure.
if he knew what it meant,
to endure,
the early loss of a parent,
but endure he did
it was apparent,
He compensated for his loss
by playing, teasing, tickling, BAILING,
no discipline,
no yelling,
He was no kind of a man,
He made sure the bills 
were paid on time
and brought the money home,
momma said, 
we just got used to,
the back of his head,
she would 
innuendo that 
he was even good
in bed
but his eyes would roam,
hint...hint...
where did the man begin?
from the lost of prime,
and the boy end?
the broken home?
the lost of time?
not being apparent,
to your own,
but to someone else's
kid's you shone,
could it be you thought of me
just four years old
ancient history
already,
eyes whose beam,
fought back the night,
eyes too young,
to know your plight,
eyes already wise,
beyond my years,
eyes that had already 
seen too much of 
your fears,
did you think that
leaving me would replace,
the expectation in my face?
with implication?
Even now you're seldom seen,
The next generation,
Did you plot? 
Did you figure?
Did you plan?
That ev'ry male I'd meet
would be a reflection of you,
and no kind of a man?
that look in my eye,
is not one of need
of any earthly thing,
it's not one of greed,
it's not one of hunger,
or of want, but sadly
it's for the essence,
of a love, needed badly,
of a gift I never got from you,
your very presence,
daddy!

Victori ©

A Song for Ghana

We sprouted fugitive from holes in the ground,
pushed through fertile soil,
like warrior weeds, no seed,
our roots foraged 'til they found
this plot we claim today, 
when asked to change our creed, no need,
it is our loyal way.
Our branches stretch toward sun,
our skin blackened by toil,
we stored water beneath our tongue,
we welcomed the rains,
we followed the rivers course, and with it run,
we chose to follow our right brain,
never revealing our source,
or the place where we begun,
we've always been here, our choice
we are the indigenous one,
our roots vying for this space,
we stand our ground,
no longer on the run,
we douse libations on this place,
our place, under the sun,
as we praise, this sacred ground!

Victori © 

The question is....

What's the difference?

Between this ol' girl
face full of time,
and this perky young teen,
the difference now is I'm
just a tad bit mean.                                                        

What's the difference?

I've become guarded, and set apart,
getting stronger as I live,
A little wiser, but with the same heart,
just a miser, with the smiles I give.

What's the difference?

Now it takes a lot of shots,
to get the right one,
a lot more pixels, than forget-me-nots,
before I'm done.

The difference is:

A life time,
A life line,
the distance between two points,
my left prime,
my right mind,
the wisdom that time anoints,
the difference between,
a slaughtered lamb,
by the end of my teens,
to a thriving cougar,
that's where I am,
of a different persuasion,
but with the same good heart,
my age is an equation,
the sum of all it's parts,
times five,
carry the one God,
into every situation,
just thankful to be alive!

Victori ~ © 2016

On Staying in the USA Despite Trump....Part I & II

On Staying in the U.S.A despite Trump.... part 1

Our ancestors sleep in this ground, which they sowed,

planted like seed buried deep,

where they fought and died and G. I. Joed,

praying that whatever they sow, same shall they reap,

They placed their hope into this soil,

for some, hope is all they'd ever owned,

and we, are the harvest of their toil,

and for those, the only freedom they'd ever known.

Victori ©

On Staying in the U.S.A despite Trump.... part 2

Our family been here long before the Drumpf kin came,

loud and wrong, spewing hate, and bearing blame,

promising to make America great again,

As if he can recall a time it wasn't, but my family can,

Different singer, same song,

We've heard it all before it doesn't, refrain man,

Now here come Donny come late'

He's just one more,

His family just off the boat in 1888,

Mine been here since 1774, and before, before,

So where he been?

He don't want war!

He better choose a battle he can win!

Victori ©

"Blair said that Trump's “grandfather Friedrich Drumpf came to the United States in 1885 which was the height of German immigration to the United States."

Corporate Slave

Break these chains,
that confine me,
time clocks,
and alarm clocks,
that constantly remind me
that I'm not free from,
the grind,
the paper chase,
the rat race,
give me my freedom,
release the stress,
and the strain,
relief from this desk,
break this corporate chain,
set me free 
to write from
the right side of my brain,
Plot my escape,
Bureaucracies,
Hierarchies,
this corporate rape,
that encloses me in,
robs my creative,
and separates me
from my pen.

Practical Joke (For Harold) 4/26/1949-8/23/2015

Mayhem and Mischeif,

All rolled into one,

Seems all too brief,

But life rolls on,

Going for broke,

Time is a thief,

A practical joke.

You were the shy kid,

An artist,

A prankster,

Your hand hid,

Where your heart is,

No gangster,

I laugh,

To remember

Things that you did,

Just loved to have fun,

And choose it,

Sketch the sun,

And not lose it,

Pop rubber bands,

Throw eggs from a roof,

"Not" your pocketed hands,

Your face stoic, aloof,

You weren't the one, see,

As easy as Ex-lax, in coffee,

Without the runs,

A whistle on your lips,

A mindful of stunts,

A grin on your face,

You will pace,

The hallway of my memory,

Forever in short trips,

You were my ace.

© Vickie
9/12/15

The Manchurian Candidate

They have used up

all their aces,

now they're diggin'

from the bottom

of the deck,

for that Trump card, 

of a million faces,

The Joker,

of the Manchurian Sect,

a ruthless power broker,

to pursue a palace coup d'e'tat

His face a straight

flush as in poker,

His gaze of flat affect,

spying that queen,

with the diamond choker,

His words an assault 

in full attack

to murder America

and set us back,

to zero,

place your bet,

to hell with 

the more the merrier,

and to assassinate

the character

of the hero vet!

Victori7 Sept 1, 2015 ©