By:  Kathryn Waddell Takara, Ph.D.

This poem, originally published in Zimbabwe Spin: Politics and Poetics by Kathryn Waddell Takara, refers in part to the then-President of Zimbabwe, the late Robert Mugabe (Feb. 21, 1924 – Sept. 6, 2019).

MELTDOWN

Under the rule of a zealot
Opponents beaten and discouraged
Thwarted elections
Forgotten revolution
The meaning of democracy.

Wild animals near extinction
Illegal hunters
Heedless, greedy poachers
Elephants and rhinos at high risk
Rare tusks for ancient Chinese remedies
Jewelry, decorative art, piano keys
Endangered even on animal preserves
Where empty nests dot the abandoned trees in leafless intricacy
All Nature a sunset witness.

Ignorant collaborators
Hungry, envious of Western wealth

Commit unspeakable acts of cruelty to feed their families and greed.

Awesome independence corrupts
Distorted collective vision of progress
Ignores economic meltdown
As policy supports political intimidation
Social unrest dominated by bully tactics.

Discontent rumbles under the drought of inequality
Like magma inflates before an eruption.

Copyright 2015 Pacific Raven Press, LLCRead more

This poem, originally published in Zimbabwe Spin: Politics and Poetics by Kathryn Waddell Takara, refers in part to the then-President of Zimbabwe, the late Robert Mugabe (Feb. 21, 1924 – Sept. 6, 2019).

Review of Zimbabwe Spin: Politics and Poetics:

“Poets forge and foster hope. Is present-day Zimbabwe worth a song? Well, Kathryn Takara forces us to believe so: ‘Creative melodies of possibility flash across the darkening horizon lit by evening fires.’ She predicts that the Great House will rise again from its current political mess. Listen to this great American poet, and you will realize Charles Baudelaire lives on. Takara’s dexterity in offering us Zimbabwe on a sweet and sour plate tells us that poetry is sister to photography.”

–George Gnapka, PhD, author and professor in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire

Copyright 2015 Pacific Raven Press, LLC

By:  Kathryn Waddell Takara, Ph.D.

Brown.
I imagined it was such an ordinary color
the color of my skin.
 
Brown, the color of Mother Earth,
rivers rain-swelled,
a variety of tones, sharps and flats, like people:
Africans, Indians, Asians, Pacific Islanders.
Don’t mind.
 
Apple Brown Betty, pie crusts, brown gravy,
coffee, caramel, chocolates,
walnuts, pecans, peanuts, cashews,
brown wrapping paper for Xmas packages.
Brown, the color of my skin. Don’t mind.
 
Kaleidoscope of kids brown-nose the teacher,
preppies scuff their brown penny loafers.
Brownstone elegance fights decay
creeping blight in New York City,
reminding of another time—resurrecting.
 
Browns of tapa cloth, batik, wood carvings
carved brown doors to places
and events memorable,
the brown doors, usually forgotten.
 
Brown owls, chipmunks, squirrels, dogs,
horses, elks, bears, giraffes,
gazelles, lions, and other creatures
around the globe. The color of me, brown.
Don’t mind.
 
Browns are as natural as breath,
as varied as grains of sand.
To think, I imagined it was such an ordinary color,
the color of my skin.

East Coast in May
50th reunion at Tufts
Old friends and festivities
Intensity multiplies
Un huh
Mint greens, emerald leaves
Dogwood and pink buds
Crystal streams flow freely
Un huh
Robins and blue birds
Turkeys and gnats
Add to the sumptuous sounds
Un huh
Petunia and geraniums
Violets and yellows
Punctuate colorfully
Patches of now
Un huh
Camellias coming
Azaleas strumming colors
Wisteria wafting lazily
Anticipation of unknown global warming
Un huh, un huh
Lost reclamations
Confused assumptions
Shared fears and sentiments
Un huh
Essence in bloom
Patience in trying
Aching joints, weakening body
Still moments of splendid
Un huh, un huh

Visitor in the garden
Eyes face west then south
See stirs of wind in date tree
Fronds reflecting, fluffing the air
Psychedelic pinks and orange
Change quick as a breath
A passing posse of clouds
Catch the colors on the French doors
Fading to evening.

Spring should be gentle
Full of promise
Meanwhile
Thousands of Rohini Muslim boat refugees
Float for weeks off Indonesia
Lost homelands in Myanmar, Bangladesh, Thailand
Dying for lack of water, food, docking,
friendly governments and welcome.

By:  Kathryn Waddell Takara, Ph.D.

Pause
Notice the butterfly gone orange
Like Abidjan matches
See
Mother’s plumeria tree from Manoa
Grown from a hearty branch
Witness
Spring coming
In multiple colorful
Masterful madness and fanciful designs
Feel
Air thaws to green
Nature vaunts grace in growth
Experience joy in awareness
Marvel
Moments of pinks and yellows
Lavenders and oranges
Bold daring contrasts
Together serendipitous
Beauty in multiple melodies of birds
Look
Whales frolic off the coast
Splashing presence with new calves
Attention
A blue day changes
Wind shifts south
Vog from volcano drifts up the island chain
Reminding of toxic nearby
Wars, terror, nuclear threats
Corruption, elections, polarization
Troubles parallel to hope.

By:  Kathryn Waddell Takara, Ph.D.

Spirit of sun
Generous, expansive
Hot hot hot
Water melon
Water sports
Water hole
Water hose
Watering plants

Summer’s lost thread
Faded dream tapestry
Veiled vision
Dreamy afternoons
Time to make a plan for autumn.