Tuesday, March 12, 2024

ARSON

Your breath smells like

unresolved generational trauma

a putrid fusion

of blame, excuses

and all the smoke

you stay ready 

to serve the world.


Your temper 

blow-torch Fahrenheit  

smoldering among your cells

dissentigrating your lungs

each exhale carcinogenic

no one is safe 

including you.

 

One day 

the internal holocaust 

charring your core 

roasting your bodily fluids

and blackening your heart 

will be too rebellious

for you to survive.

 

Swear I keep smellin' fire 

and sure enough

every time I look around 

it's you

lit

cracklin' and poppin', 

Fourth of July 

sparking from your tongue

a run-for-cover spectacle

short-circuiting people's tolerance 

incinerating vital bonds

from your support system 

snuffing out your prosperity.


Hell hath no fury 

like you

scorned.


You're not the warm refuge folks seek

to escape life's blistering chill

you're the reason the block is hot

carbon-monoxide mobile

mortal spirit

clearing the path

with one searing gaze

no need to speak

we all know

you don't require words

to kill the peace.


And I would call the fire department

but judging by 

the grandeur of your rage

your flame is too trick candle

for their hoses

you're not thirsty for healing

you wanna burn bridges

every day you add more tinder

to the widespread toxins 

engulfing humanity.


It's clear that your violent flare 

is premeditated

which means

this 

is an inferno 

that can only be extinguished

by you. 


Listen to the audio:

https://www.reverbnation.com/hustlediva/song/34395557-arson


©2024 Charlene E. Green


 

Tuesday, September 12, 2023

APOSTROPHE

I am not a shortcut.

I am a whole word.

 

To experience me fully 

you need to sound me out 

every letter 

taste each syllable 

that composes 

the intricacies

of my story.


Chew slowly on 

the knowledge you receive 

remember it

savor it

the bitter and the sweet

balance them evenly 

amid your palate

too much of one or the other 

might leave a strange taste 

in your mouth.


If I tell you my secrets 

treat them like the personal shame

you intend to take to your grave

—guard them with your life—

do not let 

your mouth get wayward

my privileged info plunging 

from your irresponsible tongue.


Be extra careful with the skeletons.


If I trust you enough

to exhume them

from the closets 

I have buried them in

do not let the tiny bones

get lodged between your teeth

the sizeable ones

caught in your throat

I know my objectionable facts 

can be tough to swallow

hard to digest

try not to choke on your shock

do not be fooled 

by this good-girl smile

I have not been the saint 

these poems may 

have you to believe.


I can be a hurriquake

first and last name 

they frantically announce 

when cautioning the world 

of my impending doom.


If my mother were still here

she could tell you about 

the day she watched me

barbarically shudder her house

gut an emotional intruder 

on the phone

her eyes swamped with terror.


I wrote about it in detail

check my documents

I am just letting you know 

what to expect 

and simultaneously 

you never know 

what to expect 

from my verbiage vault.


When I said I was a whole word 

I also meant the truth.


See that?

 

Like a thesaurus 

if you search me

you will find infinite ways 

to define my complexities.

 

There are no contractions here.


You may not abbreviate 

the parts of me 

you find inconvenient.


You do not have permission 

to eliminate pieces 

of my original format.


Arrive prepared 

to consume me in my entirety.

 

I hope I have made myself clear.

 

Do not 

make me have to 

spell it out for you.


©2023 Charlene E. Green

Listen to the audio HERE

Wednesday, May 24, 2023

REVIEW OF LANELL GRANT'S SOLO ALBUM, I AIN'T GONE HOLD YOU

LaNell Grant asked for "dissertations" after we listened to her album. She didn't know I'm a master at those. See what I did there?

First, a little backstory:

I've been following Texas native producer and lyricist LaNell "Nell" Grant for about two years, though if you were to ask her, she might say I'm new to her world, because I just recently began interacting on her IG posts. But I was there way before that. When I first heard her rap, I was instantly drawn to her aura and flow. Something about the way she spun her words told me she was ahead of her time and that I should continue to pay attention to her artistry.

As a 53-year-old who was on the scene when hip hop started, I'll be honest and say that these days I don't really fool with what's out. Much of the greatness of the art form has been lost--dare I say trampled on--and I feel like I've been waiting for history to repeat itself for an eternity. There are only a couple of rappers who have my attention, for very specific reasons. Aside from them, no one has had my full attention this way in many years. To be clear, for an artist to have my full attention means I not only enjoy their content but also their whole vibe. I'm attracted to a certain energy, and although I may like some artists' songs, I may not care for them as people, based on the way I see them carry themselves in the media. My interest in an artist is built by way of a sort of study of them and their work. Because my life's work is words and stories, I take the art of wordplay very seriously. 

In addition to posting entertaining reels and clips of her family, several months ago Nell, who used to be an English teacher, began doing something called Nell Word of the Day, where she would take a lesser-used word from the Dictionary or Thesaurus, give us the meaning and part of speech, and then spit a short, powerful, educational, witty verse using the word, accompanied by music she produced. Not many people know this, but the Thesaurus is my favorite book. It's the best writing tool ever. I use it for all my work; it'll likely get used during this review. There are times when I want an alternate word for the most common of them, and I can't think of all of them fast enough. The Thesaurus saves me every time. That said, when Nell began this fun journey, it excited me. I was tuned in frequently before, but once this was on deck, I was locked in daily. I had never seen any other rapper or producer do anything like it. Her passion for words and their usage gave me hope for the future of hip hop. This is when I started commenting on posts. I had studied her enough. She was the real deal. Everyone loved what she was doing and the positive impact she was having on them, including me, and I let it be known in the comments how refreshing it was. 

Soon, Nell began talking about doing her first solo album, and my ears and eyes instantly perked up even more. Again, I've been watching her from the corner, so to speak, so I've heard her other singles, "Reflection" and "Call on Me," which were released last year, as well as watched her Women Produce video series and other shorts on YouTube. If she was serious about doing an album, then I knew I'd be serious about supporting it. She was and she did.

Fast forward to today, May 24, the official release date of I Ain't Gone Hold You, Nell's first solo album, which she wrote and produced. If you know anything about firsts in the artistry world, then you understand how important they are. To make a lasting impression that leaves people singing your praises, you can't just throw it together and hope for the best. You need a certain amount of confidence in your abilities and the quality of the work you intend to deliver. It's not that it's not scary or that you don't worry about how well it will be received, but you know you're ready to be received, come what may. LaNell Grant was definitely ready for this venture.

I Ain't Gone Hold You is first-rate, forward-thinking, captivating, and educational. It's also faith based, so it's clean and family friendly, not a curse word to be found. Even if you have a potty mouth and are accustomed to, enjoy, or prefer rap songs filled with obscenities and X-rated content, this album is superbly lyrically distracting, so you won't miss any of it. Nell is committed to her faith in God, and her life and verses showcase the beauty and depth of that vow. Her musical prowess, storytelling, flow, and use of language are superior. This woman is smart, intentional with her messages, and dedicated to making sure she gives the people what they need and want. And there's not a track on it that I feel compelled to skip.  

This isn't just a hip-hop album, which is why it took me four full listens to the album to figure out how to describe it. To me, it's an ode to faith, inner growth, and love. Nell does more than rap; she serves up a beautiful balance of what I call "street and sweet." The first half of the album is where she takes it to the street, unleashing crafty, flawlessly articulated and enunciated bars that prove why she belongs on the mic and has the right to call herself a rapper, all while slangin' arresting, layered beats in your ears that sound like she's been producing for decades, when in reality it's been less than 10 years. It's clear from the first track that she didn't come to play, even though she was obviously having the time of her life in the studio. Countless metaphors that stop you in your tracks and make you shake your head at how smoothly she dropped them and ran to the next one, while you're still marveling at what she just left you with. Subject matter that makes you think about whether you're living your best life (right up my alley!). Scenarios that make you reassess your faith, no matter what philosophy you subscribe to. 

Then, unexpectedly but definitely not regretfully, she swings way over to the other side of the pendulum and lays the sweet side of herself on you, revealing another surprise: she can sing! No, not like Mariah or Whitney, but she can do more than just hold a note. She has a pretty voice, and to go with it a heart bursting with love for her life, her kids, and her husband, which she spends part of the next half of the album celebrating. I heard Nell say in a live video some months back, regarding her love for her husband Cory, "I've always been ooey-gooey." This album reveals exactly what she meant by that. Her husband and kids all have cameos, and what I love about her "ooey-gooey" side is that even as she gets vulnerable about what and how much they mean to her, she still throws flaming bars. She may have switched gears emotionally, but she continues going full throttle energetically and skill wise.

I wish I could tell you what my favorite track is, but right now I can't. They're all too strong. I will say that the ones I find myself quoting the most are "God's Timing," "Second Wind," and "Everything." As I continue to digest each song, one will likely be the chosen fave. Some of my favorite lines from each track are as follows:

"Everything": 1. I could never count a manmade dollar as my Powerball. 2. If we delay our indulgence/then we can bake this in the oven/slow and steady, that's the pace/perfect the texture, that's the base/crust them edges, that's for taste/and save that juice, cuz it's our gravy.

"Answer by Fire": 1. Facts/it be in the acts/acts be in the actions/proof is in the pudding/trees bear they fruit then. 2. We was dancin' wit' the enemy/didn't understand his vice grip is a Tango/wit' a grip like Thanos/wit' a chip like Pringles/on our shoulders.

"Unequivocal": I pray compassion don't miss me and catch me wrong on a Tweet/I pray I handle my come-up with enough humility/I pray my flesh don't get stirred up and walk me to guillotines. 

"Second Wind": 1. Cuz it's a set-up/And I upset like a underdog wit' a bite that won't let up. 2. Whatchu rely on?/Whatchu cling to?/Whatchu trust in?/Whatchu lust in?/Tell me yo' type of glutton/Mine was myself. 3. Objects in the mirror are more sinister than they appear.

"God's Timing": 1. But that mind of poverty/it be a sham/it'll have you goin' hard for the clams/in the wrong direction/away from yo' fam. 2. Just know that everything's shiny/just know the beats still gon' be grimy/just know the heat crack like a lightnin'/only difference is I'm right in alignment with all of my assignments. 3. I'm a piece'uh art and a piece'uh work/you can buy the album when you buy the merch/straight from ya girl/you can skip the clerks.

"Don't Let'em Swamp Ya": 1. Pray you don't play cat and mouse with a fox/Don't let no lame tell you whatchu not/they sound like trickery dickery dock. 2. Any lil boy can make 'em/but not every grown man can stand up and raise 'em/you want a real one/one like yo' daddy/one like yo' pappy/when you nine months he'll still think you a baddy.  

"Collect Call": 1. I hit my knees/I had to weep/I had to groan/now I'm grown. 2. Nelly is regular-degular/I be in sweats without sweatin'/I only address it cuz I know some girl somewhere in depression/who she is on the inside is what's special/but she can't see past the pressure/of what she measure/in her bra line/in her thigh gap/how her teeth look/if her waist snatched/wit' that make-up/she git big claps.

"I Hope You Know": 1. You done cleansed yo' bride/boy you deserve a thesis/a dissertation/standin' ovation/worker's compensation/hundred mo' vacations/condos on the water/five-star reservations/anything with you cuz the time is never wasted.

"Don't Forget (feat. Tim Woods)": Dang these thoughts/man they be creepin'/and I be peepin' all these demons/yeah I see 'em/My God I repent/Lord please forgive me/they in the mirror/not over yonder but right up under/where I breathe/between my gums/on my tongue/Jesus Christ man/I can see/that it's me/I ain't gone lie/dang it's me.

"Reflection": 1. Performing/dangerous drug/performing a.k.a. I want love/and I wish I had that truth when I needed it/I wish I knew my worth and then exceeded it. 2. Hope I got more God than I show y'all up in my stories.

"I Ain't Gone Hold You": 1. Had beats on my hard drive/thought that I had made 'em wrong/turns out they was for me/I was takin' long/turns out I'm Chef Bar-O-G/put my apron on/tried to leave the kitchen prematurely but my cake was on. 2. If you needed a wake-up call/hope I was Folgers.

Whether you're a hip-hop aficionado, only partake sometimes, or not at all, I strongly advise you to support this project so you can hear what true hip hop sounds like in 2023, especially coming from a woman who also creates the beats. You can go ahead and speak LaNell Grant's name in the same sentences with MC Lyte, Queen Latifah, and Missy Elliot. Yeah. Gone ahead and do that.  

I Ain't Gone Hold You is available on Even.biz, where you can purchase and listen but not download. To sign up, all you need is an email address. It will hit all digital streaming platforms soon. Here's the link: https://www.even.biz/releases/i-aint-gone-hold-you

Grab it, enjoy it, learn from it. Happy listening!

Charlene E. Green

Author, Publishing Coach, Empowerment Poet, Life Coach

Hustle Diva Speaks Enterprises LLC

lnk.bio/hustlediva24

Thursday, December 15, 2022

INQUIRING MIND

*For Twitch and all the others.*


So you thought you could dance

Your way out of despair

Dj

Enough music

Into your ears

To drown out your heart's

Hard-core wailing

Pretty-smile enough sparkle

Into your eyes

So when we looked into them 

We wouldn't see

That the lights were out

In your soul?


I wanna know 

Who dropped the ball first

How many dropped it after

Left you feeling like

This game of life

Was too difficult to play

That your access pass

To happiness was defective

And you weren't worthy

Of one that worked


How many were dropped

To the point that by the time

Somebody picked one up

And came to support you

In winning the game

It no longer mattered

Because you felt like

You were too many points 

Behind to succeed?


How many I love yous

And I'm here for yous

Sounded good but

Weren't strong enough

To overpower the game-over buzzer

Blaring in your head

Telling you you'd lost

No overtime on deck

Time to get off the court

Outta the game

Outta people's way

Outta existence?


DID

Anyone actually drop the ball?

Was there really not enough

Love

Cheering

Checking-on

And tips offered

On how you could be a victor?


Or


Did you have the ball

The whole time but 

Didn't think there would ever 

Be enough air in it

To keep you bouncing back 

So you tossed it?


Did you block

And foul folks

Who tried to help

Because deep down

You didn't think you were

Destined for greatness

Didn't think your life

Was important enough 

To save?


I'm just asking because

When it was me long ago 

When I thought I

Wanted to die

More than once

I realized

I didn't


What I really wanted

Was to have a purpose

Big enough to live for

A thing that made me

Feel like I was needed here

A way to leave the world better

A thing no one could

Take from me

That gave me joy

A thing that belonged

Only to me


Because why be here

If I can't have

Impenetrable fulfillment

On some level

Solid ground to stand on

When everything

And everyone around me

Is falling away

Or apart?


And when I found it

I never again

Thought I wanted to die


In fact

It became the thing

I fought hardest

To live for


So I'm just wondering

What would've made you stay

What was the puzzle piece

Missing from your soul

What was the thing

That would've kept you

In the game

Given you

Impenetrable fulfillment 

Made you plant your feet

Firmly in this life

Given you the courage

The audacity

To battle all the

Evils and strife in this world

The thing that would've

Let you live in peace

Carry out a purpose

That made you dance

Dj

And eye-sparkle pretty-smile

Till the game-over buzzer

Blared

And you were good

Because your happiness points

Were in excess

And you knew

You had won? 


©2022 Charlene E. Green

Sunday, July 17, 2022

SUPPORT SYSTEM


I don't drink coffee

but I've been using your favorite mug lately

the one you used for your morning coffee

then several more servings throughout the day


I know it was your favorite

not just because I saw you using it

all the time

but because

I can see the permanent coffee-stain ring

just above the cup's halfway point--

you never filled it all the way

as if maybe you felt like you didn't deserve

a full one

like how you often felt about your life

the way you struggled to feel worthy

of the kind that would

leave you so satiated that there'd be

no room left in that cup

because the contents of your joy 

would aggressively bubble over

splashing on everything

and everyone in your midst

and you would never apologize

because you'd understand that

happiness is to be shared

it's supposed to flood

touch people

leave them inquiring about 

whatever it is you have

that makes your cup

runneth over like that

 

At the bottom

on the inside

I can see the mass of scrape marks

from where you clanked and stirred your spoon

and I question how much deep contemplation

and persistent worry

were driving each rotation of your wrist

how long you sat there

with your limb  

briskly spinning your java on autopilot

always no cream

barely a teaspoon of sugar

so I wonder if what you were really doing

was trying to dissolve

all your tears and fears


On the underside rim

lies the mileage evidence

where it's clear that this mug 

was your cherished companion

your ally during 

life's storms and celebrations

traveled with you to every corner

of 40 Terrace Drive

saw all the sights of your beautiful mind

this friendship between you two

was sacred

this vessel held your joe

and your dreams

firmly in its grasp

until the day you left it

in my care


I love the feel of the handle in my hand

sturdy and thick

like your love, reliability, and support

this mug has a density

my other mugs don't have--

I know because I pulled all of 'em

off the shelf

and did a thorough check--

they're not built like this one

they don't feel as dependable

which I guess makes sense

because in my whole life

I have never been able

to depend on anyone

more than you

 

Even though I don't drink coffee

I'll keep letting your mug

hold my favorite beverages

while we form our own bond

as we trek the dimensions 

of my home


I'll definitely make sure

to fill it to the very top each time

to remind myself

that I'm worthy of a life 

brimming with unapologetic joy


And I won't even flinch

if the contents spill over


Copyright 2022

Charlene E. Green











Friday, June 24, 2022

MORE

She say, "I know I can be a lot,"

apology in eyes

recoil in tone 

a momentary lapse

shrinkin' back into the shell

she labored her whole damn life

to bust out of

overtime hours nobody knew she put in

tryna get secure 

in her melanated skin

mournful sighs 

guttural moans

creak and pop of her bones

from the brazen pushback she gave

when they proclaimed she was forbidden

in spaces not built for her kind:

unapproved commentary 

all that black body

brain power and curves

generational wisdom and savvy

packed so overflow in her

it be spurttin' like a rebellious sprinkler system 

spontaneous and full blast

catch folks off guard

drench they tumbleweed minds

distress 'em so bad 

they grimace and flail

mash they foot on her spout

till she 

SHUT THE HELL UP...

but her force too grand

flow unstoppable 

so she always erupt 

before long


She say it

like she forgot she the classified

spice in this world's flavor

recipe ain't even complete 

till she pepper herself in it

her discretion

she control the measurement

they ain't about to deplete her

greedy spirit governin' they palates

clamorin' for heftier portions

but she understand 

it only take a dash

to balance the brew

so she keep her setting

on shake

not pour

cuz everyone knows

including her

they up Shit Creek

if she empty


Say it

like ain't nobody told her

processes be stalled

till she put hands on 'em

business all kinda unfinished

inexplicable confusion abound

till she bewitch her way

through a scene

like her ancestors 

were forced to do

for centuries

oh yeah

she got it honest

indigenous elixir in her blood 

only reason they can keep calm

and carry on


She say, "I know I can be a lot"

like she still ain't sure

she deserve

to be out that shell

roamin' free

command in her step 

like she belong 

fixture they cain't live without

like she ain't that hallowed safe

holdin' the all the fortune

like she ain't the one card

in the deck

everybody know 

they gotta be lucky enough

to pull

for the win

like she ain't that vital Jenga piece

they BET NOT move

from the foundation

or that bitch 

gon' come crashin' down

like cain't nobody see her value

like she don't believe

her "a lot" 

will NEVER be enough


They gon' always need

MORE


©2022 Charlene E. Green




Wednesday, June 15, 2022

THE REBIRTH

**Thankful to the people I spoke to after my show Saturday night, who inspired this poem.**

They tell me I'm
the new church on the block
built different from any other
my tongue
a rarefied bible
whose narratives be simultaneous
swing-pull-hug
knock ’em out the pew
with one blow
their self-loathing
a dune of hazardous waste
upon the floor
exposed
unable to deny
a frightful sight
then
embolden them
to dust off their dismay
stand up confidently and
turn to The Book of Empowerment
Chapter 7, Verse 24
which states:
Honor thy spirit
and thou shall glide through the storms of life
and reside among the peaceful and free
endowed with renewed faith
and mended esteem

They say my word
be a same-day funeral-Baptism-wedding
lay their broken lives to rest
dismembered souls strewn wildly
amid closed caskets
unfit for viewing
dip their feeble spirits
in the cool
refreshing proverb
of hope
deliver them from
the sin of self-harm
walk their rehabilitated beings
down the aisle
give them away
to begin a repaired life
with their healed self
to love and cherish
for better or worse
in sickness and health
forsaking all others'
negative perceptions
judgments
and commentary
for as long as they shall live

They whisper to me
in confession
their grievous yearning
for emotional stability
ask how to forgive themselves
for decades of self-induced mistreatment
howl in anguish
ashamed of the mess they've made
of their psyche

Until I direct them
to The Book of You
Chapter 9, Verse 16
which states:
Thou canst do all things
through the courage residing within
forgiveness reigns when 
remorse of self-denigration is felt
changed behavior employed
and acceptance of imperfection pursued

Thou art in command
thou hast choice
choose self-love

They declare my sermons
be anointed
affirmations of worthiness
truth-bearing mirror on the wall
promising underneath
the inner decay and downfall
lives the fairest self of them all
ready for introduction
to the world

They rise from their seats
gather their properly adjusted crowns
self-respect
flood my collection plate
with appreciation and delight
exit the sanctuary
turnt up
blessed with the spirit
of
I AM
capable
I AM
deserving
I AM
enough
I AM
LOVE

©2022
Charlene E. Green

Thursday, April 14, 2022

Holy

You're a prayer

a need

a gimme right now

a sweet tooth

sleep deprivation

a daydream and nightmare

a soul itch

a bite my bottom lip and covet

a what if I can't get to you

a get my shit together so I can


You're a sacrifice

a Simon Says

a looped thought

a heart murmur

a secret creeping from my pores

an ego check

a Freudian slip

a tsk-tsk and an aht-aht

a praise dance

a gallon of patience

an answer within six questions


You are

clasped hands and sore knuckles

a soon

a hope

baited breath

a please and thank you


a rooftop-screeched

AMEN







Saturday, June 5, 2021

MERCY

**I've been trying to tell this story, in writing, since July 2020. Today, the one-year anniversary of Mommy's death, it is done. This is not the full story; lots of backstory details are missing. But they're not needed for this version to be a complete meal. I'll write the full one at a later date. **

In movies
and on TV
we often see
terminally ill people
begging those they love
to help them die

don't just stand there
watching them suffer
do something
make it stop

In movies
and on TV
it's all fake

until in real life
your life
it's not

You think you know
compassion
selflessness
think you've displayed them
in the biggest ways
think you've helped people
done the most valuable favors
given of yourself
in the hardest ways

you think
when you tell
someone you love
you'll do anything
for them
you'll have the strength
when the time comes
to do whatever

no matter what
whatever
is

until
whatever
is help them die

In movies
and on TV
the anguish
on the face
of the loved one
being stared in the eye
while hearing that plea for help
is fake

until in real life
your life
on your face
it's not

When your mother
now barely 90 pounds
whose skeleton
dismally protrudes
through her rice-paper thin
brown skin
whose ability to tend
to her basic needs
even the simplest of them
has been savagely snatched
by The Intruder
while you watched
her discouragingly rapid decline
for weeks

when you witness your mother
whose idea of freedom
is self-sufficiency
grow angrier
more rebellious
more defeated by the hour
because her freedom
has run its 76-year course

when your mother
stops fighting and instead
starts verbalizing
her intense desire
to exit the scene
posthaste

when your mother
has already been
subtly asking you
to help her escape

when your mother
two days
before her flight
looks you in the face
as you two struggle
to adjust her ravaged body
in bed
and wails in gut-wrenching agony:
"HELP MEEEE!
I'M SUFFERIIIIING!"
and your heart
airbags
inside your chest
from the crushing
verbal impact

when your mother
finally declares
a state of emergency

you call 911

but not on the phone

they can't bring her
the help she wants

you gotta go
above their heads
way above

you gotta call
the ancestors

Of the myriad on staff
you're certain
of the most influential

six

the ones whose grip
would be firm enough
yet still loving enough
to convince her to let go
come live with them 
in the upgraded realm
where she would know
the best kind of freedom
convince her
that her only child
her last-living sister
and all her unfinished business
that weighed so heavily
on her heart
will be covered 
and handled
with the utmost care

Two days after her plea
consciousness waning
suffering deepening
yet grip on the unfree world
still tight enough with worry
to keep her bound

you make the literal
life-changing call
intentionally
verbally
clearly
with your whole chest
with all your faculties in place

with the knowledge
that 911 calls
are the most serious
of them all

You get in the car
start driving 
and you call the six of them
one by one
loudly
by name
tell them to listen
tell them you're serious
tell them you understand 
what you're about to say
give them explicit instructions

"She's tired.
She's suffering.
She doesn't wanna be here.
But she won't let go.
One of you has the influence.
One of you can make her let go.
So one of you gotta come get her.
I don't care who.
But one of you gotta do it.
And you gotta come get her
TONIGHT
While Pauline is still here.
Before she goes home for the weekend.
She has to be here with me when it happens.
So you gotta come get her...tonight."

You finish your command
drop the bills at the post office—
the bills for June 
that she was so upset 
the day before
that you hadn't mailed yet—
go back home
call freshly made
and lie on her bed
while she thrashes incessantly
in the hospice bed
and watch her
for four hours
the two of you
engaging in countless 
wordless glances

glances you know
are the last ones 
you'll ever share

At 10:14 p.m.
on June 5th
when you look at the clock
after you
and her sister
with hands affixed to her body
have stood inches from her face
watching her finally let go
you look in your mother's peaceful eyes
before you gently
press them closed for good
and ask her:

"Which one of 'em
came and got you?"


©2021 Charlene E. Green

Saturday, January 30, 2021

WEAPONIZED

In 2020
we found out
you no longer need
a gat
blade
or bomb
to set it off
spark panic
let 'em know
who got the juice

In 2020 and beyond
without a mask
it's all you
you the one
got 'em wincin'
divertin'
unnerved

You out here packin'
concealed-carryin'
showin'
not tellin'
you ain't the one
to be fucked wit'

You say
come at me
bitch
put your life
in my hands
git closer than
six feet
feel the ferocity
of this tainted breath
trashing your orifices
let these
hazardous particles
from this exposed
sneeze and cough
I sullied the space with
engulf the membranes
of your nose
slither through your parted-lip grin
cut a rug on your tongue
roughhouse in your throat
picnic on your hands
the same diseased hands
I watch you mindlessly rub
your irritated eyes with
while I smile in your face
and literally
kill you

But not softly
my shit potent
more lethal
than carbon monoxide
snatch up your whole family
all your Day Ones
your baes and babies
in a single birthday party
graduation celebration
holiday dinner
cease all that
huggin', touchin', and kissin'
faster than a prison guard
on visit day
separate you
from your treasured beloved
on their deathbed
saying your sob-filled goodbyes
from the other side
of a hospital window
tracing I love yous
across the glass
or
from your house
car
or the hospital lobby
on Zoom
instead of up close
holding their hand
ushering them on to the afterlife
like your spirit needs

You
without a mask
21st-century firing line
walking hot spot
black sheep of humanity
your naked mug
banned from all businesses
illegal in some states
encountering you
is like being thrust
into an unexpected game
of Russian roulette

In 2020 and beyond
don't forget
to cue Bell Biv DeVoe—
the remix:
never trust a BARE FACE...
and a smile

©2021 Charlene E. Green

Thursday, July 9, 2020

MULTIPLE CHOICE

Dear Mommy,

Some days
your death feels like
a calculus exam
laid in front of me
when I can only do
basic arithmetic

or
being jarred from sleep
in the middle of the night
by a starved
angry grizzly bear
tearing down the tent
while on a camping trip

or
an offensive comment
my spirit is forced
to listen to
at ear-splitting decibels
on repeat

or
being trapped
in a small room
with the incessant
low-battery beep
of a smoke detector

or
biting my tongue
in the same spot
28 times
in one day

or
having gum surgery done
without anesthesia

or
being shoved
in the back
and crashing face-first
into a pile
of glass-shard-filled dirt

or
steel-toe cowboy boots
knocking violently
against my temples

or
cat claws
being slowly dragged
across the entirety
of my body

or
I'm not strong enough
for this today

or
I want to
genie-blink
your ashes
back into your flesh
so I can rest my forehead
against yours
and we can nuzzle noses
one more time

or
please come back

or
I miss you

or
I need you

or
I love you

or
D
all of the above





Tuesday, June 23, 2020

HOW TO BE A NEWLY ORPHANED ADULT IN SEVEN EASY STEPS

1. Remind yourself every hour
that you're grown
and you been on your own
for decades now
so stop acting like
you really need parents
to get you through
the days and years
specifically
Mommy

2. Tell yourself
every time you cry
for longer than 5 minutes
to suck it up—
that's too much damn sobbing
in one day
you ain't got the energy
to spare...
you got the rest of your life
to battle this demon
and you're gonna need
all these precious tears
you're squandering
today

3. Be sure to show
at least five extra teeth
and turn on all the lights
in your eyes
when you smile at strangers
who ask how you are—
you need them to believe you
when you lie and say
you're good—
you're in no way prepared
to let the truth slip out...
so keep those acting lessons
you took in the 90s
tucked in your back pocket

4. Walk around all day
with your fists balled up
so that every time the panic
about the fact that
Mommy's house
is no longer gonna be home
for you
once you clear it out and leave
sneaks up beside you
and tries to hold your hand
you'll be prepared
at all times
to sock that fucker
in the throat

5. Spend at least thirty minutes
every morning
rehearsing the myriad ways
there are to tell people
Mommy's never coming back
before you leave the house
and possibly see people
who haven't heard yet
or get on the phone
to handle her affairs
so your spirit will be strong enough
to withstand the force
of the torrent
distressing your tear ducts

6. Do not loiter
in the spot in the house
where you spent the most time together—
you know your breathing tends
to get a little shallow
your eyes dart erratically
and your nerves fray—
just dip through
get what the hell you need
and get the
fuck
out

7. When you go to bed
don't kid yourself
into thinking tomorrow
is gonna be any better
than today
cuz you've only been
a grown-ass orphan
for 2.5 weeks
and Lord knows
this is only the trailer
for this horror flick
that you will never
be able to get up
and walk out of









Monday, June 15, 2020

KID/SISTER

Who better
more appropriate
than the two of us
to send you
into the ancestral realm?

We
The Onlys
the baby sister—
last of the five—
and the lone child
a two-woman team
who cherished you
in ways no others could
came together
combined all the love
in their hearts
and gave every bit of it
to you

I didn't do it alone
that would've been impossible

I did large chunks alone
yes
but
when we were together
in this house
with you—
when sister
and daughter
joined forces
two
sometimes three
days a week
during your last month
with us
our care and devotion
were unmatched

Cuz we knew you
we understood you
we knew how
to figure out
the you
that The Intruder
was turning you into
better than anyone else could
cuz you were...
a special kinda patient
one who needed
a special kinda care
interaction
conversation
communication
one who
would not have done well
with other people
people not us
your kid
and your sister
nope
nobody woulda been able
to speak to you
handle you
pacify you
like us
nobody woulda been able
to embrace your special
the way we did
nah
they wouldn't have gotten
your jokes
wouldn't have been amused by
your snide remarks
would've been put off by
your super-specific
demands and requests
wouldn't have known when
to be firm with you
wouldn't have had
the slightest idea
how to fight with you
shut your madness down
would have surely
gotten fed up
with your constant
escape-artist act—
oh, man
you and your escaping
from the bed
time and time again
after promising every day
to STOP...
and you didn't stop
had no intention of stopping
until you physically couldn't
do it anymore

MY GAWD
YOU WERE SO...
JULIE!
*SIGH*

No
just us
The Onlys
could do that job
cuz it had to be done
with love
and nobody loved you
more than we two

And when you decided
to make your exit
you made sure
to have us
right there in the room
focused
hands-on
so you could see us
feel us
so we three
could be together
for the last time
for your last hurrah
your final minutes
so we could look you in the eyes
watch your spirit flee your body
kiss you good night
then comfort each other
after

You made sure to leave
enveloped in the love
of your two favorite people:
your kid
and your sister
the only ones
who could send you
out of this realm
in peace

WAS

Referring to and thinking of you
in the past tense
is really...
just stupid to me

I mean
it truly sounds
stupid
cuz you were just here
you've always been here

See that?
I said "were"

Stupid

Day Ones and I
came in really late
the other night
from a much-needed break
from purging your things
and when I opened the front door
I forgot
for about five seconds
you weren't inside
sleeping
not wanting
to be jarred awake
by our burst of energy
our midnight-hour cackles
the singing
of the Prince song
that we had just heard
on the radio
and belted so loudly
prior to getting out
and I found myself
trying to be quiet
till I remembered
your bed was empty
cuz you weren't here
you're never gonna be here
again

What kinda sense does that even make?

It doesn't
cuz it's stupid

It's as stupid as every time
my phone rings now
and when the people
on the other end
talk to me about you
I have to respond
with past-tense terms
but I don't do it right away
all the time
cuz I forget
that you're no longer IS
and then I have to backtrack
correct myself
correct myself about
your being
your permanent not-here-ness
permanent
that's a long fucking time
you know

And what kinda sense does it make
for me to be fumbling over that distinction
in eight out of ten calls?

It doesn't
cuz it's stupid...
and annoying
to be honest
cuz I know
that correction
isn't gonna change
your status isn't gonna revert
it's not like I can
wait it out
like your IS
is gonna return
and allow me
to get back
to speaking
and thinking of you
the way I did
before June 5th

And what kinda sense does it make
for June 5th
to now be responsible
for the reason
I have to forever
change the way
I speak
about your existence?

Like
June 5th and I
may never be cool again
I may indefinitely
side-eye that mug
wanna cuss it out
even cause it harm

And look at me
talking about injuring
a goddamn calendar date
as payback
for the way it has
injured me

Yep
I'm absolutely annoyed
right now
currently
PRESENT
TENSE