Dreaming's Art
He could see
that she loved him;
no, more like Idol Worship.
'You' she said
'are the Man of my Dreams
my Prince Charming.
Everything you touch
turns to gold
including me.
I laid down my heart for you
hand pressed my soul for you,
danced round your Maypole
like a young girl in spring.
You populated my every dream;
you in my eyes-
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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I Am The Fat Girl
I am the Fat Girl
the one that everyone hates,
holds in contempt
makes fun of
the one who has Jenny Craig dreams of being thin;
who learns to hate her self
because of cupcakes;
who can walk pass ice cream
and gain five pounds
whose parents are thin
while telling me I just have to watch my calories
I am the one who is mean
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Box Car Harry
The railroad dick looked straight at him, eyes unwavering, beady-eyed, menacing, and Harry counted his change to see if there was enough for a bribe; searched his thoughts for an escape route, but he was not as young as he used to be and the dick was young, legs like a deer.
He tussled Barney’s hair and said:
“Go there in that thar car and wait for me, got to dump the dick. Wait for my whistle.”
Barney looked up him hesitantly and Harry stammered hoarsely
“Go! ”
Barney scrambled on all fours the way Harry had taught him and quickly disappeared under cover of the dark Chicago night.
Always, the dick against the Bos, the rich against the poor was Harry’s thought, been that way since her was born, the wanders, the lose, the lose people on the road trying to find an odd job and a meal, against the railroad fat cats trying to exterminate the railroad people, who what was just trying to get by.
Harry held his breath and told himself to concentrate and finally turned back to the dick and showed himself, full on so as the dick could get a good look at him. The dick wide-eyed and incredulous stared hard at Harry surprised by the brazenness of the tramp and stood stock still for a moment, prey in the eyes of the predator.
Harry swayed a little left and then a little right like a running back taunting the linebacker, which way boy, am I going to bolt, which way is the question. Harry feinted a dash to the right and the dick crouched right ready for the chase, Harry smiled and then feinted to the left, testing the dick’s reflexes. The dick danced to the left enjoying the thrilling moment before the chase.
Harry guessed Barney had had time to secure himself in the car and then dashed straight toward the dick, who was thoroughly surprised and steeled himself for what he thought would be a crash between the two men. But Harry at the last minute slanted right allowing the dick to remain close behind but not enough to lay hand on him.
He headed for track 13 for the Great Northern line car.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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I Am The Pretty Girl-Chapter Two
By junior year I was feeling pretty lonely
and I went to this party
where all the pretty girls go
so I had to go and everything
there were boys there from the college.
boys I didn't see very often
mature boys
and I was curious
especially about the one named Josh;
he seemed nice
I had watched him from the time I arrived.
but more important
he seemed to have confidence about himself
in a way I wished I had confidence in my self.
I openly looked at him
caught his eye
letting him know girl-way
I liked him
miracle of all miracles he understood my look-
closed his eyes and started across the room toward me
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Matterings
'All I want' she said' is to matter.'
'All I want' said the scientist 'is
to understand matter'.
'The problem of life' the philosopher said
'is figuring out what matters'
'The secret' the muse said 'to life
is figuring out what is to matter more
and to learn what matters less
The Lover said
'All that matters to me
is matters of the heart
and I did not matter to him enough.'
'What does it mean to matter
is an world of billions;
what tracings and scratchings
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Kiss
She slipped into her smiling stance
so easily.
Her lips parted showing her teeth
alabaster white and gleaming
as she sat on the couch
in dim light
bathing in the self-confidence-ness
women sometimes have that says
'whatever happens in this encounter
with him
it
will not matter
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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A Linguini
I am the pronoun prisoner;
'I '
the letter's very shape
is a single bar;
many taken together
my prison make,
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
all lined up in a single poem-
sometimes too many.
We has the 'w'
open-ended to the sky
posture of the supplicant
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
all together taken
are the congregation praying.
Me has the 'm' all battened down
closed to further input
and scrutiny-
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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A Sea of Melancholy
She sailed upon a gentle sea of melancholy-brave oars dipping.
She was awash with long ago laments which I could not guess.
Her movements were slow.
Her eyes never darted-they oozed from side to side-
tiny lagoons abutting her sea-
and languidly
she spoke to me.
'I have had so much sadness in my life
young'un and time was I was a bright young thing
but life can wear you down-only so many things can go wrong
before you put your finger to your head and imagine its a gun.'
Friends die, she said, I'm 93 and three husbands buried,
even most of the children dead.
Yet God keeps me lingering on, I think, way past my time.'
My great grandmother had this sad dignity, layers of laments
speaking to herself as much as to me.
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Food For Thought
She hid it
but it became clear to her
even as a child
she was obsessed with food-
all the world and her relationships in it-
became things to be tasted;
consumed.
In her twenties she did not date men
she tasted them
and became bored
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Giving and Receiving-Taking and Empty
She carried his memory with her-
wore it like a necklace.
It was
embedded in her body-
every place he had touched-
issued silent body sighs
asking her to go back to him,
to have him touch her that way again.
It was her he'd kissed
her loins, her heart, all caressed-
all made love to
by him.
She would have forgotten
but her body did not
-could not.
Her body had melted in the hot;
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poem by Lonnie Hicks
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