Authors: Nikki Giovanni
Everyone knows
In Spring love grows
Among the birds and the bees
And the humans too
That squiggly worm
Which makes the soil turn
Also falls in love
The Robin gets up
As an early bird should
To catch a careless bug
But maybe the Robin
Has made a mistake
And simply wanted a hug
At any rate
I need a date
With you to watch the moon bloom
We'll sit and we'll chat
About this and that
And maybe like that owl and that cat
We'll dance by the light of the moon the moon
We can dance by the light of the moon
(Tennis Players vs. Poets)
tennis players
and poets
talk to themselves
one complaining
of unforced errors
the other lamenting
lovers
not here
poets find wonderful
witty repartee
to captivate
the imagination
of the beloved
tennis players curse
in languages we don't
understand
explaining the loss
of points
poets understand loss
old age marriage
fatigue and well
just not going to
make any sense
to this person
this time
game point
set point
match point
no love
The Poet was having a typical day: too much to do with too little time to do it in, yet . . . she was excited. Today she would have a Christmas/Birthday dinner with friends. True, she would have to share the occasion but, hell, if poetry isn't about sharing, what is?
She was up early because she knew she would need a nap in order to stay alert. The Poet is a great napper and heartily recommends it.
She was off first thing to The Giggle Bank. She hadn't been to the Bank since before the Sadness. And because this was a special day she didn't want any thoughts other than happy ones. To be on the safe side she decided to make a substantial withdrawal.
The Giggle Bank requires an appointment. As the Poet sped through town she was willing to risk a ticket because she just couldn't be late. It can be difficult to get an appointment with The Giggle Fairy, since so many people always want to see her. The Poet had had to pull a few strings to be seen on such short notice. She remembered The Giggle Fairy from younger days but they had not seen each other in a while.
Your Mother left you a bunch of Giggles, the Poet was told. Probably a years or so's worth. You never did come back to ask us after she went on her journey to the sky.
I was sad, said the Poet.
The Giggle Fairy was having none of that: Well, we noted you went to the Wyne Bank and made many withdrawals.
Yes, the Poet confessed, and many silly phone calls in the middle of the night seeking a comforting voice.
Had you come to us, GF sternly stated, we could have saved you some embarrassment.
Yes, the Poet acknowledged, and I am working very hard to set things right. That's why this evening is so important to me. May I ask if the Administrator has been in for a withdrawal?
You know we cannot answer that. Nor can we answer if her Wonderful Husband has or has not been in. We are a secure bank, you know.
The Poet appreciated the tip. Then maybe I should get enough for the car and for the dinner.
Where are you going to dinner?
About an hour and a half south. Maybe two hours for dinner. An hour and a half back. I think five hours of Giggles should do us proud.
Well, here you are. And don't forget: You Must Not Leave Any Giggles Just Laying Around.
Are you still having that sale? For every Giggle I use I get two back in the bank?
Yes, of course. Even though you haven't been in that is still the arrangement we made with your Grandmother. What a laffer she was! There were times we would have been out of Giggles but your Grandmother always found a reason to raise a smile. We were hoping you might . . . but never mind. I'm glad you came to us. Enjoy your evening.
The Poet hurried home to quickly nap, shower, dress, and eat a bit. She wanted champagne for the drive and knew she must eat to keep everything on an even keel.
And what a lovely night. The drive down was just about the expected time until the driver got lost. But not for long. The meal was exquisite. The wine wonderful. The service and the company beyond compare. Dinner was not over at nine but rather eleven. And there were still two hours, more or less, to home. Then the unexpected happened.
Everyone had been laughing and giggling and having such a good time that no one realized the Giggles had run out. The Poet should have warned the table but she was so busy laughing she forgot. The Poet knew what would happen: The Administrator would crash on the way home. The Wonderful Husband who had also laughed but who is very protective of the Administrator would not ever have allowed himself to sleep. The Director of a Special Program never slept when she was out. That only left the Poet and the Administrator. Someone had to close her eyes until more Giggles would be obtained.
The Administrator yawned, blinked, and lay her head in the Wonderful Husband's lap. Riding sideways like that would give her bad dreams so she sat up and drifted away. The Poet was enchanted. The Poet was under the impression she was the only one who could sleep sitting up and here we had the Administrator doing it.
Probably it was the trust the Administrator showed when she closed her eyes. She entrusted her Wonderful Husband to the Director and the Poet knowing they would do everything in their power to make him comfortable. Whereas he was, indeed, the only man in the group, the Poet was the only poet so there was outreach. The Administrator leaned back and drifted deeper into a comfortable and safe place. The Poet took that as the highest compliment, since one will do many things with people but sleeping in their presence is a sign of true friendship. The Couple were taken home first. The Administrator awoke and her Wonderful Husband safely escorted her into the house. They blinked the lights to say Good Night.
The Poet and the Director were then dropped off. As the Poet was taking her good clothes off to air and hang up, she, as was her habit, checked her pockets and there, to her surprise, were a couple of leftover Giggles. She remembered now that she had scooped some up when she had gone to the Ladies' Room. Oh, Wow! Had they been brought forward the Administrator would have been allowed to stay awake and Giggle on the way home. Of course, the Poet justified, dinner was two hours longer than expected and there had been plenty of Giggles to go around but these would have made the trip home totally participatory. I should have remembered, the Poet admonished herself. I wonder, as had become a way of life between the two of them, how I can make this up.
She thought and thought, then realized there was nothing she could do. It was a perfect evening. And everyone was happy. So the Poet did a wise thing: she put the Giggles under her pillow and danced and Giggled all through that night in her dreams.
I wish I could
Exercise
While I sit
In class listening
To my students
Pontificate
I would stretch
My legs
And point
My toes
Then lift
Each or the other
To the top
Of the table
No one needs
To know
And I need to lose
Five pounds
Gee whillikers I wish
I could stretch
My mind
I was a Mama's girl. I adored her. The only other person who even came close was Grandmother. I would follow Grandmother so closely that when she stopped I would run into her. But finally it came. I had an older sister, Gary. She would have been Gary Eugene but she was a girl so they changed it to Gary Ann. I am Yolande, Jr., because I was named after my mother. Gary went to school. I actually found that to my liking. Mommy and I would get up and have breakfast with Gary and Gus, our father. Then off they would go and my world would brighten considerably. Mommy and I would wash or iron or, my favorite, dust. We didn't have a car so we walked to the grocery, stopped by to give a holler to friends. And if the day was going well Mommy might play a hand or two of Canasta with Mrs. Morris and Aunt Jeannie. She wasn't really my aunt but a good friend of Mommy's so we called her by that honorific. But it finally came. I knew Mrs. Hicks because she lived across the street from us. Her kids were younger than we were so we didn't play with them but we all knew each other. I probably even knew Mrs. Hicks taught school but it wasn't something I needed to relate to as I didn't go. But it finally came. Mommy woke me up early because I had to bathe and get dressed. I have to tell you I was skeptical. What could be better than staying at home with Mommy? I poked around with my breakfast while Gus and Gary were telling me how much I would enjoy school. I still don't trust it when people are excited about you doing something.
Oh you'll love it
they say knowing full well this will cut your heart out. But I have always prided myself on my bravery. I don't run from physical, emotional, or intellectual fights. I could handle this, I kept saying to myself. But the tears welled up and by the time we arrived at Oak Avenue School they were spilling over. Then Mommy said
Good-bye
. It was too much. I bawled my heart out. Mrs. Hicks, who was the kindergarten teacher, tried to cheer me up and distract me. I was having none of it. But the first-grade teacher, Mrs. Scott, said
Come on, Nikki
.
You can visit my class.
The irony is that both kindergarten and first grade were in the same room. But I was always a sucker for that kind of logic. When I would fall or stumble Mommy would say
Come here, Nikki, and I'll pick you up.
It worked every time. I took Mrs. Scott's hand and walked to the other side. Mrs. Scott had a physical condition that caused her head to bobble and I think I thought she needed me. She didn't. But I didn't know that. So I guess it's only fair to say my first mentor was Mrs. Scott. She let me think she needed me. And I stayed in school. And all that I have learned and been able to share I think I owe to Mrs. Scott.
I baked it
In a biscuit
And someone came along
While I wasn't looking
And stole it away
I had planned
To take it
For Show-and-Tell
Naked I would unveil
My prize
The moon would dress me
In moon dust
The stars settling over
My head
And you with your arms
Outstretched
Would awake me
Warm
In the light of day
While the night made its way
Into the kitchen
To become
Morning pancakes
it's just love
it won't sweeten
your coffee
or ice your tea
it won't grill
your steak
or bake your crusty bread
it certainly won't
pour your olive oil
over your shredded parmigiano-reggiano cheeses
it might make
you laugh
it's just love
it won't rub
your feet or your back
it won't tousle
your hair
or paint your
fingernails Red
it might make you
want Red
fingernails
though
it's only love
it has no coupon value
though it also does
not expire
just me
just you
just love
yeah
good for nothing
love
throw it away
when you get
tired of it
I would like to see you
Cooking
I would like for you to cook
For me
I would like to see you decide
Upon a menu
Go to the market
And pick the fruit
The vegetables
The fish
I would like to see you smell the fish Test the flesh for freshness and firmness
I would like to watch you
In the bakery
In the bakery by the dinner rolls
Deciding: Rolls or Crusty Bread
I would watch you run back
To get the Goat Butter
I would like to be sitting in a corner
And you
Intent upon your meal
Not noticing me
When you go to the wine store
I would watch you wrestle with red or white
White, of course, because it's fish but red
Is Seductive who ever fell in love
Over a glass of white wine
Iâuncharacteristically on timeâ
Would like you to greet me
In a butcher's apron
I would like to watch you greet me only
In an apron
You would ask me to undress
To undress for you
Before I sit down at the beautiful table
Before you hand me my glass
You would ask me to undress
I would like to watch you watch me
Undressing for you
I would like to watch the movement inside the apron
As I undress for you
I would like to watch you walk
No
Stroll to your closet
Where you bring out your old buffalo plaid dressing gown
Your pilly much-washed dressing gown that smells like you
After you brush your teeth
After you shower After you comb your hair
I would like to embrace your odor
Your odor Your essence as we sit down to eat
I would like for you to cook for me
I would like that
Very much
There is only one
Thing better
Than waking up to Ben Webster
blowing
Monday Morning Blues
In my ear
There is only one
Thing better
Than waking up to coffee
Perking
Bread
Rising
Bacon
Frying
There is only one
Thing better
Than a blue sky
Birds chirping
The garbage being picked up
On time
Yeah
Only one
Thing better