Joanna Gilman Hyde

he slipped away
into that non-judgemental night
he slipped away again

I was not called to his bedside

 there was no face-to-face
just “make me a list”
of the pimping
the using to procure women
the manhandling of his grand daughter
this was not a nice man
yet he shmoosed his way around
into My Child’s Heart
I looked for his praise

 his true nature
came to Me after The Death of My Brother
The Only Son
when the gleam of avarice
came to my father
as he realized he inherited
all My Brother’s property
property which had once belonged
to My Mother’s parents

 I felt helpless
before my father died
I feel helpless now
except that I can write
I can write out my father’s life
and I can
write out my father’s death

 he was one of those children
of the rich and famous
who was a sociopath

 RECONCILER

I have painted The Ideal Painting

It has Daisies all over It

like Stars —

It has a Rod of Pink

“aggressively pornographic”

It has

The Shower of Lights

The Devil’s Tale

(The Daisies are The Devil’s Lie)

Joanna Hyde
January 25^th 2012   The Hawk

RECONCILIATION
22 x 28 inches water soluble oil on canvas
painted in The Hawk Studio, January 24, 2012
by Joanna Hyde

              The silhouette of My Black Cat

is away over the rocks —

              I have brought the wrought iron furniture

black, out of the basement

              & put glass tops

                         upon it.

_

I have poured My White Wine

             & taken a phone call

from My Stepmother in California

            thanking Me profusely

                      for the peach roses

sent in memory of My Father

I was interrupted at this poem

                       by Her, My Stepmother

who says My Painting I gave

             …

water-soluble oil on canvas
22" x 28"
by Joanna Hyde

oil on canvas 26" x 36" circa 1983
by Joanna Hyde

 I was once an Indian Princess

somewhere across The Western Plains

of Early America

–

I married a brave

& conceived 2.4 children

–

My Father was a Chief

My Mother one

of 4 Wives

 –

I made clothes of skins

I cooked bison strips over

open fires

–

I led packs of dogs

& children

along sunlit trails

further West

not in search of Wealth

but of Freedom

from encroachment

of The White Man

–

Joanna Hyde
February 22 2012   The Hawk Studio  8:26pm

 there’s a small smooth stone

 in the corner

of The Hawk Portico

It looks like a Fig Newton

I found It on The Hawk Beach

when My Father was sick

&

wanted to give It to Him

for His Collection

but I never saw Him

 –

–

Joanna Hyde
February 22^nd 2012   The Hawk   2:40pm

acrylic and chicken wire on canvas
8 feet by 10 feet
painted circa 1982 in rebellion to galleries of "pretty pictures" while 
a student at Cooper Union

by Joanna Hyde

SAM

 In A Golden Cage

Lives My Bird Named Sam

He Likes Fruit

But Doesn’t Like Ham

He Has A Red Neck

And Is Green As Can Be

When I Look At Him

He Looks At Me

I Wouldn’t Like A Parrot

The Colour Of A Carrot —

I’d Only Like Sam

Who Doesn’t Like Ham

–

"I wrote when I was nine and recited it to Mrs. Lee's 4th grade class at Valley Cottage Elementary in 1971."
Joanna Hyde
January 12, 2012 The Hawk

Artist’s Note:

The Bird named Sam was a Christmas present when I was nine years old and infatuated with a pair of love birds my mother could not afford.  She had tried to warn me off…

“Even if the trees

get pulled up

or torn down

it won’t matter

to your mother”

Kristine Zoodedoo

No, it won’t matter to My Mother

She’s dead

with Her Monument to Death beneath Them,

Her white-blossomed Garden of Eden

And why should it matter to Me?

I’m alive

and have

My One Scraggly Apple

in My Back Yard

by The Sea

Joanna Hyde
 March 11th 2012   The Hawk

acrylic on canvas 26" x 36" circa 1983
By Joanna Hyde