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The Big Buzz

January 2019

#121

 

Y La Luna Lobo Se levanta

Hoy en frente en el zono de la baja Onandaga
Y aquí la familia gozan y sentimiento de nostalgia más grande
En esta mañana aquí la lluvia, la tierra celebrando patria libre 60 años
Solo flores communes
Hoy habla Martí, Maceo, Baño, Mella, Fidel
Y los de la diaspora en Barrio de Jarlem
Con un amor y fuerza y un presente para el que viven cerca del Río Powcatuck
Y el ritmo de palo palo, palito es a la palma real
Música de Los Van Van
Nosotros son del Caribe y nadie nos pueden negar
Con un espíritu de Mamá Raimunda y Carlos
Aquí yo saludo la timba y el baile de pow wow
En el Día de los Pueblos Indígenas en marcha
De la Tierra Verde y agua pura que es la vida
Con un areito pa’abrir la puerta libre a Leonard Peltier
Somos las estrellas, la luna, y el sol
Sin ser muerto, sordo, y ciego
Yo amo al aire libre y el tiempo en el respeto a Pachamama
Y mira, Señor Tiburón, piensa a tus ojos malos contra los paises latinoamericanos
Tiburón

And The Wolf Moon Rises

Today in front in the zone of the Onandaga lake
And here the family enjoy and feeling of a great nostalgia
In this morning here the rain, the land celebrating 60 years a free country
Only common flowers
Today Martí, Maceo, Baño, Mella, Fidel pseak
And those of the diaspora in Barrio of Harlem
With a love and strength and a present for which they live near the Powcatuck
And the rhythm of palo palo, palito is to the real palm
Music of Los Van Van
We are from the Caribbean and nobody can deny us
With a spirit of Mama Raimunda and Carlos
Here I greet the timba and the dance of pow wow
On the Indigenous Peoples Day on the march
From the Green Earth and pure water that is life
With a little name to open the door to Leonard Peltier
We are the stars, the moon, and the sun
Without being dead, deaf, and blind

I love the outdoors and the time in respect to Pachamama

And look, Mr. Tiburon, think of your bad eyes against the Latin American countries
Shark

© 1/1/19 Carlos Raúl Dufflar
The Bread is Rising Poetry Collective

 

New Year 2019

New Year began,
With a big buzz...
Fireworks bright in colour
Tiny sparklers for children,
as some had to find their beds.
Drones hidden amongst the
Dark skies...
The humming birds unseen
Owls in their nests
Insects marching through
The grass
Some finding sugar left by the
gathering picnic ware?
The New Year Day
Has arrived...
The big buzz begins,
Unheard by some,
as they still sleep...

(c) JosieLawson 22/01/2019 All Rights Reserved
GROW

 

Cosmo And The Bees

Jutting from an island
Smoking out the bees
Looking for the dark sand
Searching from the trees

Cosmo made a record
Spun it in the wind
He held a bee upon his sword
And they guessed that he had sinned

Then I saw a massive ship
That sailed above the ground
Then put a vow on Cosmo’s lip
And the bees they swarmed around

From the crowd there gazed a lady
Her fashion was divine
Loosely clothed and shady
She had followed them to dine

Then the baker lit a fire
That smoked into the day
They offered unto their desire
And the bees they flew away

Sean Zag
Stevenage survivors poetry group

 

The Big Buzz

The Big Buzz, a sensation of being really happy, joyful and elated and in my experience, such a feeling does not need explaining. My Big Buzz comes from spending time with my younger relatives, not just my cousins Matilda and Harriet but also my half-brothers Luke and Adam and my little boy cousin Daniel. If it were not for my younger relatives, I don’t know how I would keep smiling more often than not. My younger relatives certainly enjoy my company so I really should try to show my face more often if I can help it. They certainly like the presents I give them for their Birthdays and Christmas even if I feel I could have done better, it is the thought that counts after all. It is such a joy to see their smiling faces and their eyes light up, the fun, laughter and camaraderie that follows makes it even better. Even when the inevitable goodbyes come around, that still gives me a Big Buzz, the kind that comes from turnin g the obvious negative of having to leave when I’ve had so much fun with my younger relatives into the positive of knowing I’m going to be missed. It is even better when they are able to put on a brave face, after all I miss them too but of course, we will see each other again soon and then the Big Buzz will start all over again!

Michael Bungay
Stevenage Survivors

 

A Whish And A Burble

I wandered with a whish through the automatic doors
Into the cool
And the moving figures.
I hadn't a list
Or much money in my purse
But I had the card,
The magical card that allowed me to
Overspend.

I was looking for ripe fresh fruit
And I saw a neat row of mangled chickens
Being cut into portions.
The man at the deli counter
Could've been an Aztec prince
And a small lady unloading bread
Was murmuring a song to herself.

Not a word had I heard
For two days,
Kept looking at the phone;
Sometimes if I tried often, a text
Would burp out of the phone
Like a frog's call.
A frenzied child running down the aisle
With a blundering woman calling,
"When I get you, Chantal! You'll see how you like it."

I perused the Ratatouille, looking for the Provençale kind:
With extra tomatoes and a sweeter flavour.
There was a label, but an empty row.

I went into the supermarket
I don't know why
But as I meandered up the coffee aisle
The way was barred by women talking.
A trolley with breakfast cereals was jammed
Across the little free space
And the tears flowed freely.
I fumbled in my bag for a tissue,
Got a few wisps like snowflakes
And a jumble of receipts flew under the aisle.

Then I noticed a trail of mouse droppings
Around the side of the laundry powder.
Funny they did their business there.
If only my phone would burp a message,
Even a promise of reward credits.
Saw Barry's tea and Thai soy sauce:
Better value than the one in my basket.
Hurriedly I tried to swap them.
The more expensive soy landed on the floor.
It bounced, though it was glass.
My phone burbled.
I put the bottle on the self
Next to the Enchilada boxes.
Give the staff a job:
Lucky jesters, school leavers,
I'm old enough to be your mother,
But they just sniggered.

As I went to pay for the vacuum-packed beetroot,
Two customer advisers were wrestling
Like crusaders in Alexandria.
The beetroot wouldn't scan.
The text message talked of weather
With lots of love.
I tried to input the barcode
But the self-serving machine freaked out.
I stood there sobbing,
Then wiped my eyes and waited
While the red light flashed,
And the person at the next till
Raised her eyebrows like a ballet teacher,
And then her voice.

I quietly stamped my foot and straightened my back.
The text was with lots of love
I remembered.
It halted the posse at the bridge,
Miles before the precipice.

©Gail Campbell

Artwork by John Joseph Sheehy Artwork by John Joseph Sheehy

Ahead Of The Times

The short days cold nipping
Summer waves summer time
The beach buzzing sand salt
Long summer days buzzing
The coastal breeze buzz
BuzzFeed buzzers
Fish n Chips on the coast
The tide sound in the waves
I remember the buzz on a Friday
Roll on Friday sung all-around
Pay day wage packet
The weekend ahead festival
Ahead in the times
The poems buzzing tweeted inks

John Joseph Sheehy