One Moment: A Poem For M.J.

One Moment

For one harmonious moment the world gave pause. For one melancholy instant the whole world wept. And during that glorious final curtain call, for once, the human race did it together.

Rest in Peace Thriller

1958 – 2009

(C)Toddy English

 

 

Happy New Year (Early)!

Well, tis the day that father time straps on his sandals and marches on. Another season of merriment and occasional folly has come and gone. Tonight we’ll make our resolutions; knock back a couple of shots; and sit in front of the television as the glittering ball drops (depending upon where you’re at). Time to say good bye to the past because the future, and all of it’s riches, are soon ours to grasp.

I guess what I’m trying to say in all of this gibberish (if it’s even gibberish) is…

Happy New Year! (and many, many, more)

With Love,

Toddy English.

A Poem: I…Am…Superman

Dear Friends:

This is a poem I wrote last night. Since “Superwoman” (by Alicia Keys) one of my new favorite songs I felt inspired…ha. Plus, Superman is my favorite super hero. This is my personal anthem.

___

I Am Superman

By Toddy English

I Am Superman.

No, I cannot fly but that little hindrance won’t stop me from reaching out and staking claim to my place in the sky…Along with a star…or maybe two? Who knows? Only I place limits on what I can or cannot do.

True, I may not look so tough but my disguise got you fooled. Just beneath my Polo is an ‘S’ that signifies me as the best! So, please believe that no negativity you hurl in my direction will ever leave me stressed or depressed.

I Am Superman.

I’m not made of steel but my heart is stronger than iron and my super strength is my indomitable will. My X-ray vision gives me permission to see through all the insecurity that used to bind me in submission. I am too proud. I am too strong. Not even Kryptonite can hold me down for long!

I Am Superman.

Now, stand aside and watch me soar.

Never will any tall building block me anymore!

Toddy English (C) 2008

Beads, Poetry, Spirits, and Good Vibrations…

Dear Friends:

I did it!

I recited my poetry in front of an audience and I didn’t pass out!

Furthermore, the attendees really liked my writing! The shop owner, Jimmy, invited me back to recite some more for the next show. Unfortunately, I forgot my digital camera so I didn’t get to do the Youtube video. But that will be next time, for sure!

The Day of the Dead

What I loved about the experience was that it reignited my creative fires. I’ve been writing in my journal almost non stop for the past three days! There is something about people actually appreciating your work that gives you permission to allow yourself to do more…

Anyway, overall, I had a lovely time. It was a sweet lil shin dig.

The poetry reading was in honor of Día de los Muertos (The Day of the dead). It is primarily celebrated in Mexico; however, it has become an honored tradition (mostly in the Mexican American community) in the United States. It is a day where family, friends, and relatives get together: pray, remember, and celebrate their deceased loved ones.

So not only did we read poetry but many of the attendees created art work to strike a mood. They also had Apple Martinis too! I had about three (teeheehee), but I didn’t get trashed. Those “spirits” loosened me up before I got onstage, because I was hella nervous.

Well, the whole poetry room was really vibey. Jimmy had: beads, incense, and lovely music going so I just got this sense that all was well. I got in touch with my creative self and it took the edge off.

There is another “lady”, my friend, Donna who also writes. Oh my god I think Donna is so brilliant. “She” writes such beautiful poetry (Donna was also the emcee). After she read her stuff I thought, “Oh hell I need to just duck out right now…” So I’m sitting there trying to figure out which of my poems to read.

Then I thought, “Fuck it.” I gave myself permission to come from the heart and recite the first poem in my hand. To my surprise they all really really liked it! I am still awestruck. So afterwards I read two more (I only brought three with me). After I had them dranks and got comfortable it was all good.

Anyway, I had a blast. No, there were no really cute guys in attendance (it was more of an arty crowd: tons of lesbians; the guys were either too old or very…uhm…eclectic…But really cool! Just not my type). So I didn’t get drunk and go home with anyone…But I still had so much fun.

I’m actually thinking about starting my own poetry/writers type group. That would be so righteous!

Sooooo, I am going back to read again next month. My muse has been awakened and she’s a demanding bitch!

Cheers!

Toddy English.

The Raccoon: A Haiku Poem (and a story)

The Raccoon By Toddy English (c) 2006  

The thunder crashed. My house shook.
The rain never ceased; so I chose to read a book.
So loud was the racket that I never divined
the masked little bandit, the raccoon, fleetly
hijacking everything that was mine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Friends:

The above poem, a haiku, was written nearly three years ago (coincidentally during a rainstorm). However, the incident that occurred, inside my house one week ago, made this poem apropos.

Well, one night I managed to get some sleep (in spite of the humidity that made my bedroom feel like a sauna), a huge feat for me during this time of tumult and upheaval. The next thing I know my mother is rap tap tapping upon my bedroom door. I open my door, mad, and inquire, “What is the matter?”

“Toddy, I think somebody is in the kitchen!” she whispered.

I automatically tense up, “Forreal?!”

“Yes, I heard all of these noises.”

By then I’m in a near state of panic. Because all I can think about is getting out the house and calling the cops. I am not trying to get into it with NOBODY. There had been no reports of looters in our immediate area. But there are drug dealers in the vicinity…And where they are there are desperate crack heads who steal anything that isn’t nailed down. So with that I picked up my pepper spray and a rake (I could find my switch blade). My mom stayed behind and went to her room to get the phone…

So, I’m on my way to the kitchen and sure enough there were A LOT of noises. All the dishes and everything were being thrown about. Suddenly, my cat comes out of nowhere (that’s Ash) and follows alongside me, hissing and spitting (like he is really gonna do something). Anyway, At this point I have a flashlight too and when I round the corner I turn the light on and jumped back at least 50 feet…

People, the biggest Raccoon I have EVER seen before IN MY LIFE (granted I’ve never seen any raccoons in person before) was sitting on the countertop; eating out of a jar of Reese’s Peanut butter, chillin. I was shining the light on him and he just looked at me and went right back to what he was doing. The little beast had destroyed the entire kitchen looking for that damn peanut butter…So me I know not to mess with a Raccoon. They kill dogs and cats. The first thing I did was drop my stuff, grab Ash, and lock him in his bedroom (yes, my cat has his own room). Then I ran back and told my mom to dial 911 to get animal control!

I ran back to the kitchen, grabbed the rake, and turned the flashlight on. The Raccoon was still there. I just wanted to keep him under visual control because if he got loose there would be NO stopping him. I swear he looked like a bear dressed like a Raccoon! I did not know they got that big. Apparently, we had left the patio doors open just for ventilation. So the Raccoon apparently took it as carte blanche to do some shopping? I don’t know…Anyway, I tried to scare him off by beating the rake on the cabinet door…

Suddenly, that little bastard made this blood curdling “clicking” noise and bore his teeth at me! It sounded like a cross between a growl and a loud click. I quickly backed away because it scared the holy hell out of me.

Anyway, animal control showed up about ten minutes later and I kid you not TWO people had to wrestle that son of a gun down. The Raccoon was a male and he weighed 50 POUNDS! I didn’t know they even got that big! I always thought they were these cute little dog like creatures…

Well, that was the strangest thing that happened to me during hurricane Ike.

I still love Raccoons. They are so cute. Just don’t eat all the peanut butter.

Regards to the Raccoons,

With Love…

Sincerely,

Toddy English

What Is Love (To you)?

Dear Friends:

What is love to you? What does the term mean, in all of it’s enormity, to you specifically.

Tonight I have another date with Bill (the significantly older dude I’ve been chatting up lately). Presently, I’m not really feeling that, as my French brethren have coined the phrase, “Je ne sais pas factor” with Bill. However, I’m going to give it another chance. Never know what can happen, right? 

Until then I would love to expound upon what love means, to me. There was a discussion, on a message board that I frequent, several months ago regarding the topic. Romantic that I am I just had to pour my heart into the message. So, I’ve edited it for my blog…Alright, This may be long…but I really thought it out…

What is LOVE to me?

In my opinion love has no one definitive definition. It is difficult to break down such a gargantuan concept into a simplistic terminology.

Love is the force that makes the world go round. It can transform a bitter, stingy, cynic into an altruistic, magnanimous, and joyful poet. Love is the force that can throw your neat and orderly world into complete chaos and upheaval…Yet you welcome it. You may hate the havok it wreaks, but you’ll gladly do clean up work. Because it makes you feel alive, as though you can fly without ever leaving the ground. You want it around even though you dread the inevitable emotional turmoil that can and will ensue.  Love is the elixir that cures heartbreak…Yet, it can produce godawful side effects too. Its an endless cycle but you happily tread upon the wheel like a hamster.

To me, there is a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. When you’re in love with someone you’re taking that individual in totality, flaws and all. That person, to you, is beautiful no matter what he or she looks like or no matter what he or she does. You may not like their intrinsic flaws and neurotic idiosyncrasies but you tolerate them because of that four letter word. Love allows you to see several fathoms down into the ocean that is your beloved’s heart…All of the gloss and pretense is stripped away, the ugliness too. And in that you find something worth preserving, something worth fighting for.

Love is also courage. You know very well that the person you entrust your emotions and feelings to could very well crush you like a cockroach scuttling across the kitchen floor. But alas you don’t care. Love urges you to take the proverbial plunge. So you clutch ambivalence by the hand and walk into the gaping maw of fear, eyes wide open. Then you witness love waiting beyond the periphery and ambivalence becomes a figment of your imagination. Love makes cowards into stalwart knights.

Love is also sacrificial. Some people think it is truly romantic and brave to die for someone. But, in my opinion, the highest form of sacrifice is to LIVE for someone. Love urges you to live because you know that the one you love might die without you. You love them so much that you’ll endure any number of tribulations just to be by their side. And you go on because you know they would do the same for you. Love is standing beside that person when everything is chaotic. Even though the world is caught up in a banshee maelstrom of utter destruction you stand together because love anchors you to the ground.

But just like you can fall in love you can fall out of love too. However, even though you are no longer in love with the individual you are never going to stop loving that person.  And when you let that person go you cherish them enough to wish them well, inspite of any evil they may have committed against you.

Love is more than just being in the whimsical throes of infatuation (where you can’t wait to hear that person on the phone or complete their sentences). Love is being with that person when they are at their worst and seeing them through it all, only to come out stronger than you ever were before. Love can break you down and humble you. But it can also build you back up so that you can walk with your head to the sky, whether you are with someone or not.

In the end all of the struggle, chaos, and turmoil is worth it because love elevates you to be the greatest you that you can be.

So friends, what is LOVE to you?

With Love!

Sincerely,

Toddy English  

 

 

 

 

I Feel Beautiful: A Poem

I Feel Beautiful

Am I beautiful?
What does that term of flattery really mean?
Beauty, please, break me down like a syllable, paraphrase, and interpret my attributes yourself.  What do you find loveliest regarding me?

Are you unconditional authenticity or a mere illusory abstract?
It is written by the greatest poets that you are truth.
Indeed, I hope their assertions are fact.

Beauty, how do you define me within my totality?
Is it my dramatic brown eyes with the long and flowing lashes?
Or is it my gym toned and diminutive frame that stands as a living rack for the latest fall, winter, spring, and summer fashions?

Beauty, what are you to me?  Please, I beg you, tell me what you see.
My skin is thoroughly moisturized with over the counter facial creams; yet, even now, the meaning of you sometimes eludes me.

My longing is a gentle reminder from thee.
Whisper into my spirit’s ear and expound upon the conundrum that has penetrated my psyche.

Beauty, I listened. Now I finally see. You are none of those superficial things found within the pages of glamour magazines.  Stunning clothes and faces often masquerade as you; yet none are capable of encompassing your truest virtues.
You abide in me as: humility, compassion, warmth, unconditional love, and a warrior’s courage. With true magnificence within never shall any tribulation leave me discouraged.

Beauty, I can touch you now and feel you close to me.
I feel you. Indeed I feel you. Now I can honestly tell the entire world, and shout out to the heavens too, that alas, I finally feel beautiful.

_____________________

Dear Friends:

What does true beauty mean to you? How do you define it for yourself?

Sincerely,

Toddy English.

Tiger Horse

Tiger Horse

By
 
Toddy English

Tiger horse, Tiger horse, courageous and free.  You have dread of nothing save for the beast Queen’s savagery.

You are the striped embroidered quilt that enshrouds the Serengeti Plain. You are the unbridled passion that is life; and the epitome of gentle intensity that shall never ever be tamed.

Tiger horse, Tiger Horse, vociferous, strong, and wild. Nothing will deter your trek of ten thousand endless miles.

You have abandoned all timidity, completely unbound by fear. The hunt will be on Tiger horse and still you persevere.

Tiger horse, Tiger horse, magnificent, swift, and free.  Nothing will stay you save for the beast Queen’s brutality.

(C) Toddy English 2006

______________________________________________

Dear Friends:

That was a poem I wrote almost three years ago. First of all I am really nervous because I NEVER let anyone see my poetry (lol). I’ve always felt like it wasn’t my forte. But I love to do it anyway. Whenever I am feeling overrun with emotion I crack open my journal and scribe a poem.

When I wrote Tiger Horse I was going through an EXTREMELY difficult time (which I’ll talk about next posting). And, for whatever reason, I started writing it down.

Anyway, anyone who knows me will tell you that I love animals. With the exception of bacteria and viruses I don’t think there are any animals that I don’t adore. However, of them all, my favorite is the Zebra (although I love my cat). I love everything about them from their gorgeous striped patterns; their elegance, power, and speed (It amazes me how such a large animal can be so astoundingly swift); and even their funny calls. However, it isn’t merely the aesthetics of the Zebra that intrigue me.

Over the past few years I really got into watching nature dvds (national geographic and Discovery channel) about Zebras, particularly “National Geographics: Patterns In The Grass.” It detailed the lives of Zebras in Africa and the great migration across Botswana. What amazed me was the Zebra’s iron will and tenacity to survive and thrive. It faces so many threats from: Drought, disease, and predation (their only predator is the Lion, but baby Zebras are often preyed upon by Hyenas too) but still it forages on. And not only does the Zebra soldier on but they fight, survive, and thrive. It was so amazing to see that even wild horses know never to give up.  They motivated me to write a poem.

I named them “Tiger Horses” not only because of the stripes but also their warrior instinct. Zebras never give up and they fight until they can’t. That is why it is so difficult for lions to bring them down. The will to live and reach their destination is so powerful for them. I get awestruck thinking about it.

So, as I read my poem two years later, I soon realized that the Tiger Horse was a metaphor for life. Through them I was unknowingly writing about what I was going through (while subconsciously telling myself to keep up the fight). Not only was it catharsis but it also led to healing.

So Friends, I would like to lend this poem to you . Whenever you are facing a situation that seems insurmountable think of the Tiger Horses.

Now, if you try and plagarize my stuff I’ll sue your ass…

But I will lend it to you and hopefully it helps you the way writing it helped me.

With Love…

Sincerely,

Toddy English