Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: nova scotia poet

THE HAWK KITCHEN 9:57pm

I see The Pink Cloud

that spawned Me

easing its way over

the salty horizon

Oh — now it’s grey

& I’m in The Latter Half

of My Existence

here on Earth

where I can log

Self Organizing Galaxy

& watch

The Sky

GRAFFITI PROBLEM

I’m having a Graffiti Problem:

Saturday Night I Painted

A Pentagram Star, Red,

with Silver Rays

on A Rock

in My Friend’s Backyard

— She said I could Paint

Anything I Wanted —

She said, “I Love It!”

but now Her 17 year old Daughter

doesn’t Love It

& I’ve been asked

to paint

a starfish

“GOOD MORNING, WORLD!”

“Good Morning, World!”

and to the rest of you
that are still asleep —
This Is Your Mother
Speaking:

It’s Time To Go To School
and I mean
REAL SCHOOL —

It’s Time To Go
BACK to Your
Kitchens, Women, &
cook for Your
decreasing Families,

It’s Time, Children, To Get On
The Bus of Human Intelligence
for Our Fight:

The Fight of Our Lives

as Human Beings on
This Planet —
for That is
All We Are — We
are Human &
We are God —

& We Cannot Continue
as We have been
for however many
thousands or millions of
years.

This is Your MOTHER
SPEAKING — CRYING
For You, My Children,
to Stop Killing
Yourselves
through Your Own
desperation, &
stupidity —

I Love You All
Dearly
& without You I
would
Die!”

“WAKE UP WORLD &
smell The Coffee —
drink that Tim Horton’s
& Think of Me.

Watch This Television
until You are Blue
in The Face,
which is MY
FACE  —

You have desecrated
Me with
Your naivety, Your
revulsion & Mine,
for You & Me &
Now —
I can no longer look
My Self in The Face
& Smile

Because of YOU

(red star, red star)

October 1st, 2010 THE HAWK

continued from Diary:

I AM THE RED STAR —

I AM THE ALERT BUTTON
on Your Car
remote

Listen to Me — You are
All I Have Left
here,

& here is the Only Place
We know of

which sustains us, somewhat,

& which sustains Me,

Your Guiding Star

Your Furious Mother —

and Who was My Furious

Mother, You may ask?

She is Dead Now & Somewhere

out There, Haunting Me

as I am aiming now to

Haunt You,

& Haunt You I Will,

Until You Turn Around,

with The Earth,

with The Light of Our

Yellow Star —

Soon To Turn Red.

I am speaking to You from

This Black Box, This Hole

But I Can See You,

like The Romper Room Lady —

I am Magic, if You

believe in Magic

— and I feel You must

believe in Something —

There is The Divine, for

I have felt Its Wrath —

There is God, for I have

been beaten down by Him,

now, into this heaving mass

of Human Organism

which rises up before You,

to Speak to You

from The Device I Loathe:

The Device of Corruption, Greed,

Sloth, & Desire.

Yes, I Desire You,

I Desire That You Wake Up

to Hear Me, That You

Wake Up to Feel Me, For

What Am I To You But

All That Is Left of

possible salvation?

I am Your Mother & My

Mother before Me, & Her Mother,

& My Father’s Mother & Her

Mother — I AM ALL MOTHERS

I Speak For The Salvation

of The Children of God

WHO MUST NOW, FINALLY,

GROW UP

*

I COME LIMPING HOME

There’s  a Rock on The Side of The Road

in Barrington where I shop

It has a Mentalist Red John

which I badly want to deflect

with Silver Star Rays

& maybe Red Dots

but on this windy Sunday Morning

as I drive on My Mission

I see a Police Car

coming through The Intersection

of Highway 3 & The Causeway

I turn around

I come home

leaving My Cans of Silver & Red

rattling around on the floor

of My Escape

THE SOBEY’S PARKING LOT 5:15pm

I Was First In Line

For My Abortion

& I Claimed It:

Him/Her I Kept

Forever In My Shattered Heart

In The Next Room Over

From That Waiting Room

Full

Of Silent Women

THE HAWK DECK 6:13pm

My Daughter & I

came back from The Beach

I hung Our Towels on The Line

I checked My Blog

to find a New Follower

soulblindministry

whose Donate Heart

was just like Mine

(My Daughter didn’t think so)

just like Mine

in My Eye Am

painting

Just Like Mine

THE HAWK FAMILY ROOM 6:37pm

I see A Room Inside

a big black TV Screen

I see a lamp, some books & DVDs

mirrored for My View

I slide over to My Left

to have a shoulder, Left

     exposed with half

     My Head

 A Red Light

below My Chest

“DON’T MOVE”

SOCIAL PROFILE

 

The Hawk Kitchen 2:32pm

Joanna Gilman Hyde Blair must be a Throwback to The Fifties:

White Stay-At-Home Mom

3rd Wife to A Silver Haired Doctor

Moderate Drinker — Would Like To Smoke

NOT A CHURCH GOER

Eats Red Meat & Lots Of It

Likes To Shop but Considers Cost

Doesn’t Care (very much) What She Drives

As Long As It Works

Has Been Seen Eating @ MacDonalds

In An Off-The-Shoulder Oprah Evening Dress

THE HAWK DESK WINDOW 5:00pm

Sobey’s Parking Lot

in Barrington Passage

has a yellow sign

with red letters afixed

to Its Central Cart Corral:

“In The Event of An Emergency

 Gather Here”

Twice Now I Have Thought

of Standing There

To Signify We Are

In The Social Emergency

of Our Existence:

We Should Be Gathering

Our Female 13-17 age group

Our Female 55-64 age group

Our Male 45-54 age group


THE HAWK PORTICO 6:36pm

I wrote A Book once

of 364 pages

describing The Illness & Death

of My Mother

& what happened to Me

after four days of no sleep —

sleep deprivation induced by Death:

The Shower of Lights

Seeing The Meaning of Life

Fixation Upon a Little Man

induced by The Telepathic Message:

“Joanna, the reason I am not answering Your Calls

is that I am at home, in the same condition

You are in — Yes We are reading Each Other’s Minds —

and no one knows what’s going on —

there is no expression for Love Divine

but this is as close as We can come…”

My last words to Him were:

“David, I am shredding My Manuscript —

all 5 copies, & The Shredder

is getting overheated —

It keeps quitting every 20 minutes

giving Me Pause For Thought”

Hint:

One Surviving Copy

may be somewhere

in The Vermont Farm House

of My Widowed Stepmother

Who assures Me

It’s Somewhere