photo courtesy of easystreet prompts
daddy says we was a goin’
to the land a milk and honey
but when we got there it
were dry and brown
and folks said we talk funny..
there weren’t no jobs-
very little milk
and we ain’t never seen no honey.
cal-i-for-ni-a
weren’t a very friendly place
for folks that had no money..
they took to callin’ us “oakies”
as if it were somethin’ bad to be.
as if for some kinda reason
i should be ashamed, to just be me.
weren’t none of them folks born there,
so i never did understand
what made them feel
like they was better ‘an me
’cause i was born on oklahoma land..
no sir,, cal-i-for-ni-a
weren’t what it was cracked up to be.
so lord, if thats where your serving milk and honey,,
don’t set no place for me…
June 20th, 2008 at 9:08 am
The rhymes and repetition help it swing it along very smoothly – and I love the last two lines! “Very little milk/and we ain’t seen no honey” is a great phrase too.
June 20th, 2008 at 10:52 am
Good poem! I’ve spent a while with you this morning, and enjoyed the visit! Thanks!
June 20th, 2008 at 12:40 pm
wow! those word seem to jump out of that photo (which is the saddest thing i’ve seen in awhile). the look on the momma’s face is something to reckon with. (& thanks for the update in my comments about your link…i like the look of your site. is that you in the photo?)
June 20th, 2008 at 1:02 pm
Brilliant piece as always.
“i should be ashamed, to just be me.”
A problem most of us faced. Well said, well written.
June 20th, 2008 at 1:19 pm
Brilliant ending……..really liked this, but the photo, boy oh boy, that’s poor
June 20th, 2008 at 2:06 pm
The words capture the photograph perfectly or vice versa. Your words like the photo have managed to capture a certain time.
June 20th, 2008 at 2:07 pm
My grandmother developed a pseudo English accent, so I’d never hear her talk like this, and she was very private with her thoughts, so I never heard her speak of things like this. But she had to think them, because this photograph could have been of her. And your words, hers. One of your best, paisley.
June 20th, 2008 at 2:49 pm
Tis very nice. Brought a smile to my face. Thanks for sharing! PLL, CordieB.
June 20th, 2008 at 4:26 pm
love the voice in this one. my favorite line’s “and we ain’t never seen no honey.” really great, unique piece.
June 20th, 2008 at 4:40 pm
Damn I love that.
June 20th, 2008 at 4:58 pm
nicely done!
June 20th, 2008 at 5:18 pm
Hi, I really like this poem, and your use of the photo prompt.
June 20th, 2008 at 6:13 pm
Oh, great!
June 20th, 2008 at 6:27 pm
Well done Paisley…truly unique and extremely creative. Brilliant.
~JD
June 20th, 2008 at 6:48 pm
Authentic angst driven splendor my Dear. I really heard that kid.
This is as heartbreaking as it is wonderfully executed.
You captured the bewilderment of THAT poor boy dealing with the unfair hand that he was dealt.
It’s so easy to forget how the stigmatism of beyun’ po’ can nudge these little developing minds right into the hands of blamers and haters. The path of least resistance is that wide road down to the skinhead compound up yonder in the back country.
You had me from “he was a goin’” and made me feel ashamed for consistently making fun of all the unedumacated cousin-kissin’ shine-swillin’ varmit-chewin’ tabacky-spittin’ shotgun-totin’ snake-handlin’ tornado-magnet Dubya-votin’ sumbitch-crackers.
I will start my shame spiral in 3..2…1…now!
June 20th, 2008 at 8:09 pm
You’re a complete natural for using different voices and creating unique tones. This poem could be set to music.
June 20th, 2008 at 8:18 pm
This is just fabulous. How many people have gone somewhere thinking the grass would be greener, only to be disappointed? You have such a gift for the language of characterisation. Outstanding!
June 20th, 2008 at 9:45 pm
This looks like it fits the photo perfectly! I love the in the end the kid didn’t let what was happening get him down, instead just saying this isn’t for me. The rhymes were brilliant and catchy as well. Very nice and well done.
June 20th, 2008 at 11:50 pm
The voice is very real. it goes right to the heart.
June 21st, 2008 at 12:02 am
Wonderfully written and so authentic! Absolutely fantabulous. I especially liked these lines:
‘they took to callin’ us “oakies”
as if it were somethin’ bad to be.
as if for some kinda reason
i should be ashamed, to just be me.’
June 21st, 2008 at 12:39 am
Your work has such a range of voice — it’s astounding. This sounds and feels like it could have been written decades ago.
June 21st, 2008 at 8:37 am
I love your use of speech and colloquial language in this piece. Excellent.
-Nicole
June 21st, 2008 at 6:47 pm
This reminded me of my pop from Oaklahoma. You did an excellent job with the language. They did have a rough time. Well done!
June 22nd, 2008 at 4:58 am
Excellent, Jodi! I can actually hear the young boy in the picture speaking his story. Although arguable short-sided, this poem encompasses my feelings towards most larger cities I’ve visited.
June 22nd, 2008 at 6:38 pm
Oh. I was briefly, at a very young age, a dust bowl escapee… Your words and the photo bring back the memory of words that others spoke in later years – sneering words that belittled all those ‘people’ – many of whom found life far more difficult in the land of milk and honey without family, friends and a support system. Amazing. Profoundly stirring! Thanks for this!
June 23rd, 2008 at 2:06 am
Wonderful, a complete persona on a page! Orchestra of thoughts, rhythm and sound blended
in perfect symphony! Love it! It is brilliant!
Hugs Giggles
June 23rd, 2008 at 11:01 am
That could easily be a song.
June 23rd, 2008 at 4:06 pm
damn girl. is there anything you cant write and have it come out PERFECT.
wow.
June 23rd, 2008 at 10:15 pm
Wow, you did a wonderful job with this, Paisley. And I absolutely LOVE that picture.