letter from my grandson Gary

2-5-05 Gary sent me this nice card with a picture of Dexter Gordon A swingin Affair I love jazz.at night I turn on comcast smooth Jazz and listen til I fall asleep. the card read I picked this card out for you I thought you might like it. I had been thinking about you lately I was walking around the house singing to my self Welcome to the poetry room we got it going on be a guest on our show an read ur own poem (I used to host an produce a show on local community T.V.) Yeah I still Remember,but I thought of you I am always i8n thought about my family,about the world,about things____you know me.my mind has never been one to sit still. so I thought I would write you and let you know you were on my mi8nd.I have sent you a recent picture,you know I was wondering If there was anything you could be in life what would it be? you know someday you are gonna have to tell me about you. where were you born--what were you like at my age?ETC you know I have always had questions Thats Never Gonna Change I love you Gary jr, High Roller 7-29-13 1;16pm

letter from the Late Mary Louise my(/step mom)

October/9th/ 74 Dearest Daughter& family please forgive my long delay in writing I am well and glad to still be working at this everexisting I look to grt laid off.within a couple of weeks.things are really getting rough.I don,t have a good picture of my self.I am sending you a poem that I wrote on my way to PhiladelphiaPen 2 yrs ago It was published in The Buffalo Evening News. Fall Today I took a trip through Wonderland What a beautiful show I saw My eyes were filled with beauty My heart was filled with love. It was staged by the greatest artist the master of us all. God is the creator The spectacular was fall The trees in all their beauty were a wonderous sight to see Yet I felt a sence of sadness for the blind who cannot see. With so much beauty in this wonderland of ours,its trees rival the heavenly body with its celestial stars. Take time to open your minds,open your hearts open your eyes a new gaze upon the mostFabulous show. Fall and her riveral. by Mary Stewart Friday December 21 2012

sister to sister

                                                                    october 14th 1970

Dearest sister
            Just a few lines to let you know that I am doing just fine and hope you and your family are doing the same.Well everything is still the same here in Lafayette,my mother was here about a month ago,she stayed about three days then went back to the same old thing.By the way here is the latest gossip in the big city.Betty Clark is now living in Gary Indiana,they say she is really living a dog life,but I have not seen her in a bout a year.Tina eill be two years old next month so what are you going to send her for her birthday? something pretty I hope.Then there is Tim he is in jail right now for carrying around dynamite he was up to Agnes and Geraldines house trying to blow them up.Then there is Bobbie Ware case he is in for breaking and entering they did have him on a 20,000 dollar bond,but they changed that  to 2,000 now hw is still in jail so far. Your father is still up to his same old tricks.I am working for the Goverment I work for head start.Nancy Barbee is the director of the program making  600.00 a month.well kid I really dont  have much to say except take it easy and call me sometimes.I really would like to hear from my big sister(smile) by the way me and Pieree are still making the head way this makes our fourth year.Well I guess I will close this letter until next time.

                                                                                      your sister
                                                                                Drucilla

Poem/Fried Chicken

                                      Fried Chicken/ Author Thomas J.Flanagan

                Twas at the Regency Hyatt,where gathered saint & sinner,
               and I sat me down before a bubling chicken dinner.
           The hips were filled with gravy & he was rich & brown
         Fellows with knife & fingers were simply going to town.;
          while I was hungry fellers,as a bitch wolf at a kill,
         In normal time my stomach was usually hard to fill
        but in spite of that spreading.I pushed my dish aside,
      Because I was thinking of how that poor fellow died.
      Now the regency Hyatt served the cream of all  the eats.
       And this was top hap service where the big shots retreat
       The chicken upside down with a big fork in his breast,
     and cool & quiet forever-he was laid to rest.
        I caught chickens for my mother,when the preacher came around,
       I have seen her wring their neck piece & fling them on the ground.
      With no head on they fluttered & trembled til they died,
      O what an humble citizens ,born & reared and fried.


 this is high roller signing off until next  poem or letter.Peace
       

Ode To Ali/poem

                           Author Of this poem The Late Mayor Maynard Jackson

The Champ of the World will soon be in our city
And the fate that awaits him is not very pretty.
They tell me the champ is Muhammad Ali
But thats just because he never fought me.
They call him a heavyweight,but you know good and well
When it comes to heavyweights,that"s where I excel.
My plan is together,my game is uptight
When I do my thing,my forms out of sight.
Dance like a butterfly,sting like a bee
My fists are so fast that they will dazzle Ali.
The champ maybe strong,but he isn,t all there
If he thinks he can beat this dy-no-mite Mayor
Liston was strong and Foreman was tough
But when you mess with the big M,the going is rough
If I decide to just have some fun
I will flatten Ali in round number one.
If I am in a hurry and have to get through
I will win by a knockout in round number two
And this ant no braggin,but listen to me.
If he makes me mad I will take him in three.
I don,t wanna bore you,but heres just one more
I think that for KO"s the best round is four.
I don,t like to brag but my game is so hip
I will make Ali wish he had passed up the trip.
But,I will tell you this, and you better know it.
I may not be a fighter,but I am darn sure a poet.
So come out and see it,The fight of the year
I will face Ali"s challenge with courage,not fear.
Cuz he maybe a fighter,but I will throw out this dare
He would not survive for a week being Mayor.

Letter from SKYCHEFS

                        January 18th 1991

All Employees
Skychefs,Inc
ATL(eastern airlines food caters)

We have just been advised that Eastern Airlines is in the process of shutting down operations and skychefs services will be terminated effective 1/18/91.Therefore,we are advising you that your employment with sky chefs at the Atlanta location will be terminated on this day.
To assist you during this difficult time,members of sky chefs human resources department will be available during the week of 1/21/91 to discuss your termination.Please call the kitchen after noon Monday 1/21/91,for the schedule.
I regret that this action has become necessary.But,as in the past,If conditions change,we will do our best to provide opportunities for you again.Thank you very much for your understanding and your many contributions to the company.
                                                                                        Sincerely
                                                                                     Darwin Day
                                                                              Regional Vice President
                                                                                  for Atlanta

                          P.S at the time myself,my daughter and my son were working for skychef
             my son drove the catering truck & I was his driver helper, daughter worked in the kitchen.
        it was a sad day for our family.

Man & woman

Poem by Haki Madhubuti/from his  book entitled we walk the way of the new world

two baths in one day at first I thought that you just wanted to be clean,then u pulled the lights off& the darkness took me away from my book lightly.I asked about your perfume u answered,& added that u splashed it in unknown & strange places & again lightly,I asked if the perfume was black.at first our backs touched & we both played sleep.u turned toward me & the warmth of yr/blood rushes over me u throw yr left leg over my left leg & get dangerous with yr left hand. the soul station comes on automatically with the aid of ur right hand.Ike & tina turner are singing get back from ur touch I flinch and say,listen to the record woman; you don,t and I don,t while get back is in rhythm with the shaking of the bed thats mixed with our soft voices,that undoubtedly are heard unconfused through thin walls....