"A Life Lesson for Artists," A Poetry Post

While Paul Lawrence Dunbar
self-treated his
tuberculean symptoms
with alcoholism
instead of
bed rest,
the cure for tuberculosis
lurked
right around the corner.

-T. D. James-Moss

"A Christmas Poem," A Poetry Post

'Twas the night before Christmas.
I sat down at my place with a
song in my heart and a
smile on my face.

The curry was eaten.
The fried rice was gone.
My husband, the Sickler,
still alive and at home.

My little boy, twelve,
in the front,
by the tree...

In the back, in the recliner,
sat little ole me.

Luke 1 had been read,
and we all understood that
through impossible means
we'd gained impossible good.

And two televisions were a-glowing
with a mixture of tales
featuring trite character struggles
and comical family fails.

A four foot tree sat
atop an end table
all covered in cards and little
gift bags galore.

Little boxes and knick knacks
and notebooks and textbooks
and magazines and Wii remotes
from great days before.

Not a credit card swiped
to increase family debts.
Not a big Christmas dinner
to waste on just three.

Just the lights and the stories,
the peace and rest,
the love and satisfaction
of my family and me.

The elders are gone who
upheld the traditions that
welcomed the neighborhoods
into our home.

And I admit, in the silence
I started to feel that
the loss of festivities
left me bereft and alone.

In the end, I remembered that
seasons had changed,
that my new family needed me
and must be maintained.

So I shored up my insecurities
and decided right then
to begin new traditions and
enjoy Christmas with them.

It's not about pies, and it's not about hams,
and it's not about cute cakes or jellies or jams.

This Christmas, let's remember
that whatever lies behind,
we must be whole, happy and holy
and keep Jesus in mind.

-T. D. James-Moss

"The Line," a Poetry Post

As a caretaker,
You're always looking for
The line.

How much good living is
Too much good living
Considering your love's
Circumstances.

How many happy dances
Should be danced,
Considering.

You learn to live with
The absence of certain
Romantic notions.

How many disappointments
Should be discussed,
Considering.

How many dreams
Should be pursued,
Considering.

How much
Should you laugh or
Cry,
Considering the
Direness of your love's
Situation.

How much of a
Break
Should you
Take?

How many
Hours
Should you sleep,
Considering that your
Love's been awake
All night,
Waiting to see your
Smiling face?

How long should you wait
To set new personal goals,
New family goals...

How long should you
Pray
Before accepting God's will
As done.

How long do you
Quietly hold your breath
To avoid upsetting the
Balance of your situation?

The line between
Life and
Death...

Where is the line?
Where is the line?
Where is the line?

Have I crossed it yet?

-T. D. James-Moss

"A Few Words About Girls for My Boy," a Poetry Post

My dear son,
as your body awakes,
every plump breast and
every round behind and
every pretty face will
make your soul ache
for a taste.

Let's talk about some
mistakes.

First, don't feel strange.
Like your dad says,
every man experiences this
awakening and the
early days are a race between
the lust and the maturity required
to choose the wise way.

Every boy your age is
equally assaulted,
equally distracted,
equally imbalanced,
even if he pretends to be
a savant.

I promise you,
he still thinks he wants what
you think you want,
or something similar.

But,
back to the mistakes
one might make
in your place.

Don't be disgraced by that
girl who's so fly that she
carries a compact mirror in her
purse to check her face
every five minutes.

We've been through this,
and we know that this sister feeds
on attention like a weed.

You'll never be able to meet her
gaze needs; it will take
one million men and
all of their eyes to
meet her quota.

Your two will never be enough,
and to her you will be a mixed breed
on a leash.

Let's talk about the pretty girl with her
goodies on display.

If you go after her,
you'll probably get some play,
but she's not looking for you.

She's looking for a dad to check her,
and you'll never be smart enough,
never be fine enough,
never be big enough in her mind to
meet that need.

Only God in time can
reign her in,
and you're likely to fall into sin
trying to win her.

I know that's upsetting.

Let's talk about the bright girl with
self-esteem issues.

You will be tempted to save her from her
depression.

She will divulge to you her
deepest insecurities and
open her World Book
to your sympathies.

But you cannot meet her needs.

You cannot be her psychiatrist
or her therapist;
and your love will never be enough,
never be enough,
never be enough.

When you feel excited by a
girl in whom your flesh delights,
remember your father and my's long nights.

Remember our hospital visits,
our disagreements,
our time with salves and bandages,
our sudden moves and times of peace.

When you're tempted to fall to lust,
think of me.

Since you're gonna be sick,
and you're gonna be broke,
just like you'll be well and
you'll be rich,
you'll need a permanent structure
in time who can
stick around through
all those seasons.

If you mess around and
pop out a few kids with
temporaries,
you'll miss your true rib.

And right now,
as much as your bodies say different,
ya'll are just kids.

There is time for sitting up late nights and
worrying over the telephone.

There is time for
sitting beside hospital beds.

There is time for
wiping tears.

For now,
let God build you up into a
holy house,
one that can withstand the storms of your day.

The storms will come son,
and when they come,
if you've got a female next to you,
you will want her to be
God's woman...

Not a teenage centerfold.

Not a video vixen.

Not a weeping willow.

A warrior.

I promise you child,
a warrior,
an Amazon,
an Esther,
a Deborah,
a woman who can
GET GOD'S ATTENTION
is required
in this life.

-T. D. James-Moss