pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Black and White

Gray Area

Photo by Skylar Kang on Pexels.com

She was taught to think in black and white.
She sits,
feverishly writing.  Puts down her pencil, and
ponders
the thoughts that made it to paper.  But more so,
how black
the emptied back of her mind now seems. Blank
and white
really, so she fixates on how erasure smudges
make gray.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021
#Waltmarie

Poem within reads:

She sits,
ponders
how black
and white
make gray.

The Waltmarie, created by Candace Kubinec, is a 10-line form of any subject. The even-numbered lines are 2 syllables, and must form their own poem when read separately. The odd-numbered lines are longer, with no syllable count restrictions. 

IS JESUS’ DADDY MEAN?

all_are_precious_in_his_sight_by_nessie905-d7ywhw1-640x522

all_are_precious_in_his_sight_by_nessie905-d7ywhw1-640×522

At three years old,
She loves.
She loves her family.
She loves the children who come to her home
To be cared for.
She loves dolls,
And coloring
And tea parties
And chocolate kisses.
She loves Jesus …

But the nativity drawing
On a card from Cameroon
Gave her pause.
“Is Jesus’ daddy mean?”
‘No, honey.  Does he look mean?”

“Kinda” slips out from under her wrinkled nose.

“He has a black face.”

At three years old,
She loves.
She loves her white family.
She loves the little white children, who come
To her home to be cared for.
She loves her white dolls,
And sister’s brown doll.
She loves her little brown neighbor.
She sees few black people in her world.

“Honey, Jesus had very dark skin.
So did his mommy and step daddy.
It’s just a color.  It doesn’t make us mean,
Or nice.
It’s just a color.
Some people who are black are nice,
And some are not.
Some people who are white,
Like you,
Are nice,
Like you,
And some are not.”

With an incredulous look,
She declares,

“I am not white!”

She plays pretend a while,
Then comes to me.

“Nonna?”
“Yes?”

“I like black people.”

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2018

TWIST HER

wizard 3

Photo credit:  thedancingimage.blogspot

What changes would no twister bring?
Everything.

The wicked witch? I guarantee
Would still be

Ruby slipper’d, with stockings striped
Black and white.

Her Aunt Em’s home would not take flight
No straw psyche; no tin goodwill
Contentment would elude her still
And everything would still be black and white.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2016