1. A Love Poem by Ahab1 Candomblé2
Only a stupid poet3. . .
could think a poem,
capable of capturing your beauty!
The honey of the beecomb,
tastes not as sweet,
as your blushing kisses.
Magnificent girl,
into the curls of your hair,
will I swirl .
Girl ! Here I stand,
in your shadow,
lightened by your glimmer.
Purple majesty!
You reign over my heart,
will you care for your property?
O ! Who ever had --
in his sights -- a beauty4
such as you , to bless his eyes?
You! What spell5
have you cast over me?
I am yours.
My maiden,
how much longer will you
make me wait, to love you?
1 Herman Melville, Moby Dick; Ralph Ellison, The Invisible Man; James Baldwin, Notes of A Native Son
2 Robert A. Voeks, Sacred Leaves of Candomblé
3 Joyce Kilmer, Trees
4 Charles Baudelaire, Beauty
5 Nina Simone, I Put A Spell On You
Who birthed you --
Aphrodite6? Beauty ! --
will you consider my outstretched hand?
Chasity, for you!
For a face as fine as yours,
will chaste I keep; marry me?
Where are
beauties such as you,
made? Surely in heaven7. . .
I thought I smelled your perfume --
in a shopping center the other day --
but then , it was only a bundle of roses.
Will your delicate hands --
fit into this diamond ring --
that belonged to my grandmother?
My heart flails its
vulnerable side to you --
will you reject it?
Be with me!
Be with me forever!
I offer my soul to you --
do you accept?
Oh good. That trite love poetry,
will have successfully disguised
this urgent plea for help . . .
By the time you are reading this,
it may well be too late for me!
6 Sandro Botticelli, The Birth of Venus
7 Langston Hughes, Heaven
If you're reading this --
that means that my letter made it out; I risked everything to get this
outside; I only pray my captors
don't find it first . . .
Here's the story -- I'm being held
against my will -- on a farm -- somewhere
in Vermont. I can't remember where.
This place is a living hell --
I'm gnashing my teeth just
thinking about it. Every night, they
torture me -- and they really enjoy it, the
sickos. They get off on it -- they even
recorded it, one time! They said they'll
play it back for me later . . . and that I'll
eventually grow to like it, just like they do.
I can't think about my pride, right now,
or about how much I've suffered
under this roof . . . If you want the truth
I almost wish I were dead. They've made
my life such a living hell -- it's gruesome.
A few hours ago, they took my friends. I
don't know where they took them -- or
what happened to them -- I only know, that whatever happened to them . . .
was absolutely horrific. I'm sorry --
I just teared a little bit --
and a few tears fell on this letter.
Please don't mind that -- I can't help it. I can
barely bring myself to finish this -- I'll try to
wrap it up as soon as I can. Before you even
finish reading this letter -- call the cops! I need a
helicopter squad searching for me. Make sure
they have SWAT teams search every farm in
Vermont. It's the only way they're ever going
to find me. One of my captors drives a Toyota
Prius, and the other one drives a blue minivan,
I forget which company makes it --
guess it doesn't matter too much --
so that should help narrow down their search.
Call the cops! Do it! I don't have much time left:
I can feel it. Tell them to send dog teams, too --
who knows what we're up against.
Now that you've returned to the letter --
after calling the cops -- I need you to
call all of the major news stations
and alert them to my status . . .
as a prisoner against my will.
Put down this letter and do it, friend!
Now! And on second thoughts,
call the cops again -- maybe have them
send in the air force to fly a few jets
around the tri-state area -- my captives
told me that they can do a lot
worse than I could ever imagine --
so we can't take any chances!
Hey, maybe you could even get
Spiderman to come rescue me?
That'd be cool -- he's my favorite
superhero. Could you call him up?
My stupid captives won't ever let me
go see his movies, even though
all of my friends at school are allowed
to go see them whenever they please.
It took all that I could do,
to persuade them to buy me
the recent Spiderman action figures . . .
Once I got them, I played with them
non-stop, and for hours. I kept being
too tired to do my homework, so my
captives eventually took my action figures
away -- which was a few hours ago. Now,
they've got me holed up in the attic,
until I have learned my lesson --
I don't know what these sickos think
my lesson is, but the only lessons,
that I damn sure know anything about,
are the ones that Mrs . Hendrickson -- who
teaches the second grade at my school,
teaches me during class. But! my captives
are really sinister -- that's why I stopped
calling them my parents, and started
calling them my captives -- I don't know
what kind of lesson these sickos have
in mind for me, but I know it won't be another
same old, same old multiplication lesson, like the
kinds Mrs . Hendrickson gives. Those lessons are
super hard -- but nothing compares to the grief of
losing my best friends -- my Superman action
figures -- oh! and let me tell you what they did to
me, earlier this evening. My captives -- they told
me -- the sickos -- that they'd prepared a real
special supper for me -- the sickos even said I
would like it. Then -- they had the nerve to place
a plate in front of me, covered with sesame tofu,
and garlic broccoli -- it makes me want to puke,
just thinking about it!
Aw no, I just puked all over this letter.
I don't have another sheet of paper --
so it'll have to do. I started wailing --
I said I wouldn't eat it. Then they
freaked out -- being sickos, after all --
and forced me to eat the broccoli . . .
It's difficult for me to write about!
I'm sorry, I just spilled some more tears
onto this letter. Look! I'm sensitive!
They can't do this to me! It's illegal! I
don't know what these sickos
think that they are doing -- but I learned about
the constitution in Mrs . Hendrickson's class
-- my parents can't get away with this -- please,
get Spiderman, have him rescue me -- and then
he'll turn my parents over
to the coppers, and they'll arrest these --
boogerheads! I'm kind of sleepy -- I'll finish here.
Mommie gave me some sleepy time
milk, and it has really worn me out.
Ugh -- I loathe her -- how could she
take away my Spidermans, and
force me to eat “ healthy ” broccoli?
Despicable! It isn't fair, and she'll
find out the hard way -- believe me --
when she's doing time in a federal prison.
And don't get me started on Papa --
I realized my life was a living hell,
when he told me that I couldn't get
the inflatable bouncy house, that
I wanted from the store. My life
is so hard ! Papa may even get the
electric chair, who knows! He's a real
sicko, too. Okay -- I'll throw this
out of the window, and hope
to dearest God someone finds it --
and sends help! Remember:
send the helicopter search teams!
Yours fondly,
Ahab Candomblé,
Second Grade
Sargasso8 State Preparatory Academy