That Toothpick was like an emoji

What became of the elderly man who habitually lingered outside the pub, a toothpick perpetually perched between his lips?
I often pondered the significance of that toothpick—it seemed to serve as a silent emblem, a mysterious token of his unspoken thoughts.

As children, we absorb the world around us, processing our myriad experiences as we grow. When we reach adulthood, we find ourselves striving to unravel the complexities of those early moments.

I’ve always been captivated by the habits of grandmothers, particularly the way many would discreetly tuck their money beneath the layers of their skirts. I can still picture her, clutching her cherished apron, its fabric soft and faded, evidence of countless meals prepared with love. Even when we navigated the lively streets of the city, that apron was her unwavering companion.

Now, reflecting on those customs I once found peculiar, I recognize how the toothpick and the hidden money represented their ways of coping with life’s myriad challenges. The old man who so often graced the pub’s entrance has since passed, joining countless others who have left us. We gathered to honor their lives, sharing fond memories and kind words at their funerals.

Yet for me, the echoes of their lifestyles continue to resonate, capturing fleeting moments of nostalgia that refuse to fade away.

In "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof,"

I felt my fingernails digging into his back during an intensely charged moment.
I was surprised to see tears rolling down the cheeks of a strong man—he wept!
He sighed!
He reached his ******, time and again.
Was it a display of sportsmanship or a sign of injury?

Large heads

The Modern Slavery Crisis Must Be Addressed.
Calling on all poets for an urgent meet-up
The Pied Piper has surfaced again in this world.
On this occasion, he is dressed in a Jojo Armani suit.
He never drinks bottled water from the guest tables
He questions the labels, he questions the cell phones
He reacts to the earplug in their ears
It brought on a wave of sadness,
What is this madness? He said under his breath!
He looked across at the audience,
And whisper how convenient!
Stand up, stand up, stand up for your rights
Did this new generation go down without a fight?
No pointed hats, but why so many large heads?
Here ye hear ye, hear ye, have the men and women
This generation sold their souls for honey.
Misery is a life sentence in which love company,
That is why he called the meetup today, per se,
Cats and dogs will never be friends, he said in an unknown language
Timekeepers cannot stop time, time will run out,
Large heads will Strunk because it filled with air,
Great leaders of the world, I welcome you all.
But I am not Bob the builder, I can't shape your future
I am the Pied Piper:

I never heard of Tariff until recently


For those who liberate the caged bird,
They also liberate themselves.
Individuals who instigate conflict for,
Monetary benefits will ultimately undergo reformation in due course.
History often repeats itself many times,
Yet some individuals fail to heed their warnings.
The Great Wall of China was damaged by workers
As they were trying to make shortcuts to get to the other side.
The Trojan Horse was constructed with strategic thinking.
Similarly, the Berlin Wall was built as a barrier.

Today marks a competitive phase between
Temu and Shien are notable entities in the clothing industry.
It remains to be seen if they will address the challenges and opportunities within the sector effectively.
The term "Tariff" has become familiar to me over the past few months.
Shall we worry about them; shall we give in? Shall we seek solutions?
Only divine wisdom can guide us during challenging times.
For those who liberate the caged bird,
They also liberate themselves.

✓My favorite weapon
✓Bikini ski boat
✓Fluorescent sand
✓Her eyes immaculate
✓Keys to the prophet's house
✓Emotional screening device
✓1 cup of sun, 3 teaspoons of rain
✓Third world treasure map & saxophone
✓Alternate flightpaths
✓Extra parachute
✓Mediocre Shakespeare
✓Poison pen letters
✓Getaway car & escape route
✓Ladies in waiting (in lingerie)
✓Subterranean lips
✓A pinch of film noir
✓Night vision
✓Antarctic scenarios
✓Fountain of remembrance
✓Policy of containment
✓Silhouette machine
✓Water wings
✓Pillow

I used to feel them everywhere-
The spirits.
Felt their watchful eye.
Warnings from a divine animal,
A hello whispered in the breeze,
But now-
Now I feel nothing
Like a part of me is not working.
It is so quiet.
It is so lonely.
I cannot tell
Who has left who.

Theresa's Quote:**
"To the black hairstylist: Again, I will say that you are a blessing to these women and a blessing to this hair.

Black hair is a heaven-sent gift that helps black women keep their heads held high in public."

I prefer the black wig B1; it suits my complexion and looks convincing.
This is about her internship in Washington, D.C. During her college years, her health fluctuated. She spent two weeks traveling from Maryland to the city, all while searching for a place to park her car.
Before boarding a train to Washington, she majored in political science. Some stories are best left untold, but not this one. It eagerly reveals itself through my poetic sense of humor. Poetry writing is not only about rhythm and rhyme; it can serve as a voice of reason, a therapy session, and a means of soul-searching as our fingers work their magic.
A Black woman’s hair is often viewed as off-limits to outsiders. Her numerous wigs are her crown and glory. Her extensions tightly squeeze her natural hair, which she ignores for the sake of beauty. Even with a low-paying job, she carries herself with grace. Even if it means using the same wig repeatedly, she secures the B1 bob cut with bobby pins.
On that Friday afternoon, her school credits were on her mind. Her career path and every little thing weighed heavily on her thoughts. Even her romantic life took a backseat. As she headed toward her car in the parking lot, she searched for her keys in her bag, thinking of ways to beat the bumper-to-bumper traffic back in Maryland.
As she opened her car door, she noticed a well-dressed man in the adjacent car watching her. He looked attractive, and her instincts kicked in. Was he checking her out or being creepy? She offered him a faint smile.
Just as she was about to get in, her bobbed wig fell to the ground, exposing her messy natural hair. Embarrassed, she quickly picked it up and closed her door, silently asking herself, "What just happened? Why did my wig let me down?"
Second chances seldom come along.

A violent rushing wind crept through my bedroom window,
bringing the Brooklyn air and the smell of fumes.

It's not a good combination at all.
When will I learn that the young Gen Z is more frustrated than us baby boomers?
When we are in bed, they are up all night.
When we are fully awake, they are about to lie down.
When we try to reach out to them,
They get annoyed easily.
Should we fold or unfold to the madness of this so-called new generation?
Fold to the madness of the new generation.

I stood in the old church,
At the back, near the entrance,
I haven't set foot in that church over the years,
It could be over thirty years to be exact
And there I was two times in one year,
Country churches have a warmth to them
Small and yet personal effects on one core
Friendship is rightly defined as a small church
My reason for being there was to say my goodbyes
To my loved ones, my mother and my godmother,
📷
Looking back on the moment, it was so nostalgic
So surreal, and all I was saying to myself, why, take her?
It was so good to see some folks I have not seen in years,
Their aging body fades their look,
I too was not the same, being sixty-seven isn’t easy.
I attended my childhood school year church,
St Matthews, I smile just looking at the old
Church, so many memories,
Father heard the prayer we offered,
But for the ease, that prayer shall be,
But for the strength, prayers give us,
2024 will be the year, that brought my family together
It was so wonderful to see all of them
From the young to the old,
I never got to go to the lovely beach on the Island
I just didn't want to,
Too much of everything all at once isn’t good.
Today my lower waistline is paining,
However, I can compose warm memories of July 2024.