Saturday, August 25, 2012

COMMUNITY: Mama Nigger


 
MAMA NIGGER
  
She’s beautiful, you know.
 
That old toothless,
double-chinned,
potted, pitted,
saggy, worn,
shaggy, balding
mama nigger
would come into the store,
stop, smile,
and then throw out a laugh
that would astound me
by its honesty.
 
Why did she laugh?
 
Because that old toothless,
double-chinned,
potted, pitted,
saggy, worn,
shaggy, balding
mama nigger
had got more to her than
     us poor rich old young people
              who only twinkle-toed around.
 
She’s beautiful, you know.
    
 
Beth Good - 1972
Written for her friend, Ruthie

EDUCATION: Labor Pains


 
LABOR PAINS
 

The daughter did have labor pains, and so did Mommy too.
While daughter bore the baby, teacher-mommy got the screw.

Another mommy was enraged when daughter did get caught
by building staff and little kids, her fingers in the pot. 

“I will not let you discipline this little child of mine.
If you would just let her be, she’ll grow up oh so fine.”

“She needs to be accountable,” the mommy-teacher said.
“For if she doesn’t learn it now, I’m afraid of what’s ahead.” 

But other mommy did not want to hear what teacher said.
So off she went to do her in--she went above her head. 

The administrators when they heard a teacher had said, “No!”
to a parent with a child  who needed to be taken in tow,
thought long and hard for a moment before deciding that
the teacher with over twenty years could not be at the bat.

For she must be the one to blame for being oh so bold
to tell a mother that her child wasn’t doing what she was told.   

So mommy-teacher labored that week of many a meeting,
when higher-ups who’d never taught
considered her unseating. 

However much they thought they helped,
it came at quite a cost.
The mommy and the higher-ups had doomed the child—
she lost. 

There is a child who will be saved, the one who just was born.
The one who greeted teacher-mom that very special morn.

His grandma is a gutsy gal, the one who will say no,
even to her own grandson, so that she can watch him grow
into a caring, loving man who knows when not to fight,
and ‘fesses up and takes his licks when he isn’t right. 
 
Written by Beth M Good
for a friend
2003  

Friday, August 24, 2012

SPIRITUALITY: Life's Journey


 
 
LIFE'S JOURNEY

 
I heard an owl call my name one night

when, through its poignant beckoning,

I awoke.

Not knowing how or why,

but only that I had arrived,

I stepped forward,

following its call down the path

that led beyond

the fears, frustrations

and pettiness of  life

and onto the inevitable road

leading to my final journey.
 
 
Beth Good, for her brother who died in 1988

Thursday, August 23, 2012

FAMILY: It


It

 

The moon glided through the skies.  Mom was sick, very sick indeed, and she and Dad were ecstatic about her being sick, especially Dad.  It rejoiced.

Only two days late, but Mom knew, for It was already tugging at her maternal thread.  And Dad was proudly announcing at work that It was due in March, even before the doctor’s official decree. 

They didn’t think of It as it.  It was their baby.  The moon gliding through the skies, to be snuggled, to be loved.   A dream nestled in morning sickness. 

They had yet to feel their baby’s silken skin against theirs, to sense its innocence, to witness its simple directness confounding their complex lives. 

They had yet to hear its passionate cry, its refreshing giggle, its soothing coo as it stretched its arms to embrace a snuggly environment. 

They had yet to fathom a living being with no political bias, no prejudice, no guilt.  Only a newborn with the desire to be nurtured, no matter how ugly or beautiful, limited or limitless in thought and stature. 

It, for the moment, was timeless.  Yet to be born, pulsating with life, preparing for the moment it would glide into its parents’ arms.   Waiting to be cradled in endless love, waiting to greet Life in its suit of naked simplicity, waiting until it would be It no more. 
 
Beth Good -- 2000

 

SPIRITUALITY: The Illness


THE ILLNESS

 

Destined to explore this road alone,
I will run until I stumble.
Then I will skip.

And when my body tires from skipping,
I will walk until I fall.
Then I will crawl.
 
Unable to crawl any longer,
I will reach out to that which,
seeing my need,
will lift and carry me
 to my final destination.

Then, only then,
will the body rest
while my mind dances
with new playmates.
 
Beth Good -- 1987

COMMUNITY: The Imposers


THE IMPOSERS

 

Americans are predisposed

to impose.
 
 
 
Beth Good -- 20003

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

FAMILY: If You Leave Me


IF YOU LEAVE ME

 

If you leave me, teach my children.

If I am unyielding, lead them past me.

If I am unapproachable, whisper to them truths.

If I am ungrateful, show them compassion.

If I am depressed, fill them with laughter.

If I am unforgiving, teach them loving patience.

 

If you leave me, teach my children

so that they may live in a just and joyous world

that I could not help make.



Beth Good - 1986

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

FAMILY: He Is Home!



HE IS HOME!



He’s home, he’s home! 

My son who’s afraid of spiders. 

Get out the Raid

and make room for my son,

the Marine.



Beth Good-- 2000

Monday, August 20, 2012

SPIRITUALITY: For the Love of God



FOR THE LOVE OF GOD


When religious zealots

proclaim action

“in the name of God,”

the real god

must be frantically searching

for a name change.


Beth Good--2007

Sunday, August 19, 2012

FEELINGS: Emptiness


EMPTINESS

  
Afraid to answer,
Afraid to question.
Afraid to laugh
Afraid to cry.

Afraid to be alone,
Afraid to be among.
Afraid to live,
Afraid to die.

Afraid to be silent,
Afraid to speak out.
Afraid to burp,
Afraid to wait.

Afraid to let go,
Afraid to reach out.
Afraid to love,
Afraid to hate.

Afraid of all that ever was,
Afraid of that which will never be.
Afraid to become,
Afraid just to be.

Afraid to be afraid.
My god, my god,
You poor, dead thing.

(Beth Good--early 1970s)


Saturday, August 18, 2012

FAMILY: The Estate of Youth


THE ESTATE OF YOUTH


How difficult it must be.  How very difficult.

We are, however, walking with you,

wherever you are, however you are.



Will you feel the presence of our caring love?

Will you know our sleepless nights?

Will you see the open wounds

festering  in our bodies,

 healing only when you discover

your own wholeness, your being?



We are there, always with you,

hidden by your pain.


(Beth Good - 2000)

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

FEELINGS: Beyond


BEYOND



                      He was not always a clown—

                              awkward,

                                    grotesque,

                                          baiting an audience

                                                for laughter.



                        Sometime instead

                              he sat quietly

                                    on the sidelines

                                          while life

                                                played inside.


(Beth Good--1969)

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

FEELINGS: Alone


                 ALONE
How sad it is when there is no love
                              on his part,
                                    only yours.

      You want to cry out,
                             “Love me,
                                   love me,
                                         love me!”
                        But you wait,
                              knowing that it would only
                                    hurt him—
                                         and you.
                        There will never be
                              the two of you--
                                    Only
                                          one
                                                and
                                                     one.
                        Your smile
                              will always be holding back
                                    a tear,
                                          and he will never know
                                                why.

(Beth Good--1971)