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Performances & Fees | PPP "On The Road" | I Am Your Guest |
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Running Dell by Arlene A. Carter from Cracking Walnuts and Other Goodies 9/29/97 One hot summer day When 'Dell was having fun He outran a bee To keep from getting stung. If we thought that was something It wasn't so great For Wendell made history When he outran a black snake. My brother was rather quiet Not much trouble was he But he came alive quickly When confronted by a bee! He hollered, he screamed But it kept buzzing around 'Til Wendell's feet Connected with the ground. Now I still laugh when I think of how it's great To have a brother who's faster than a bee and a snake. |
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FRIDAY BATH TIME by Arlene A. Carter from Tucked In Real Real Tight Tuesday, March 24, 1998 (5:53 A.M.) We had a little secret that wasn't shared in the street. (We only got a tub bath one day out of the week) Friday was bath day In the summer time In a round tin tub And that was fine. Water was drawn From the well out back, Two tubs worth And that was that. Each cleaned three Dirty little faces; Mama called the order- We couldn't change places. If your turn was first Your water was hot, But if your turn was third Chilly water you got. The truth of the story Is easily found: Our Friday bath water Made round after round. Today when I bathe I have a real blast, 'Cause I use the water first And I use it last! It doesn't really matter to me anymore That my bath water had been used before. |
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Shopping at Kroger's around 8:15 p.m. Monday 8/17/98…this poem started forming in my mind. I came home, put away groceries, and poured out my heart. "MAMA DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE" By Arlene A. Carter from Between Nighttime Dreams: A Mama-Daughter Journey 8/17/98 (9:50 P.M.) | |
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I was in the grocery store tonight,
shopping like Mama used to do, When suddenly it dawned on me- things are not old, but new. You see Mama was the manager of all the food that we ate, So she looked for the best buys, from cucumbers to rib eye steak. Up and down the aisle she hurried with her list, While looking often in her cart to see what she had missed. But my mama as I knew her is slowly moving away; As her mind plays hide-and-seek with her memory from day to day. So when the telephone rings and she's somewhere down the floor, I want to answer and tell her caller, "Mama doesn't live here anymore." Oh, there's a woman in our house whose hair is silver strands, Who walks with wondering steps and speaks with active hands. Once in a while we talk about subjects we both know, While all the time I'm wondering- where did my mama go? When she's eating what I cook her and shaking way too much salt- I know I'd like to have her back, no matter what the cost. So I go around day by day talking with my new friend; Now and then when mama comes back I wonder where she has been. | |
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