Category Archives: MEMOIRS

What’ll ya do for money?

color039_sJPG_950_2000_0_75_0_50_50 Boys fishing in a bayou. Schriever, Louisiana, June 1940. Reproduction from color slide. Photo by Marion Post Wolcott. Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress

Alfred: What will you do when you lose the stores, when you lose your home? 

Lee:  I’ll sleep in my station wagon, swim at the Biltmore and eat at AJ’s.

Alfred: What’ll ya do for money?

Lee: I’ll have fifty thousand dollars stuffed in my pillow.

 

 (A real conversation that took place in May, 1994.)

 

 

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GETTINGS, MY GETTINGS

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GETTINGS, MY GETTINGS
Ode to my Birth-Mother
Esther Mae Gettings – Oakes.
By Lee Broom from The Line.

 

These Gettings now gotten

Ungotten, what for?

Seem, now that they’re gotten

Substantially more.

 

Behold these begettings

These Gettings of mine

Remember how hidden

These Gettings, so fine,

 

Ungotten these Gettings

Unlovely, unreal

Now, soft as new cotton

Stroke

Breathe

Feel.

My Gettings.

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MEADOWLARK HILL (I’VE GOT MY LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM)

2 21 2013 The Tree

That one lone tree on Meadowlark Hill
The song its tenants sang
The laugh and coo of newborn tots,
reflecting yin and yang

The memories are distorted
the silence now a roar
I left; here’s what they told me
return some day for more

More is what I needed
more became Amor
Emotion came to greet me
My heart began to soar

Amor became commitment
commitment to the Source
The Source became the Doorway
revealing an Inner Force

One day I’ll want to visit
pay respects to Meadowlark Hill
And mingle with the Tenants
as through open beaks they trill
And remind me of the joy I found
That day on Meadowlark Hill.

 

MY SHOES DON’T MATCH

lee_broom

My shoes don’t match

I said to myself

Observing one black and one brown.

One pointy toe

The other a moc

I noticed as I sat down.

(I remembered a time
In Pershing Square
An orator holding his own
“The end is nigh
Beware my friends
Repent before heading Home”)

(Is he right) I wondered

My shoes don’t match

I’d found them a moment ago

I repented not

(They were warm and snug
I left them on my toes.)

My shoes don’t match

I said to myself

Observing one black and one brown.

One pointed toe

The other a moc

Each slipped over

A woolen sock

The time was passing

Tickety tock

A smile replacing a frown;

I have another pair just like these

And they are my very own.

 

 

THE CHOIR OF MEADOWLARK HILL

2 21 2013 The Tree

It began with a glimmer, a sliver of light.

In a matter of minutes the glow was right.

And the Meadowlark sang its song.

Another Lark………… another, again.

A feathery chorus was now on hand

As The Boy mimicked their song .

More Meadowlarks sang along.

And The Boy became a man.

 

The Year was not New. It was warm,

There was dew as the day took form

Like a voice from Heaven

The boy of eleven,

Joined the choir of Meadowlark Hill.

 

This morning was more than a day in the life,

This newborn man

Met the day now rife

With the pleasance of Trill

On The Hill of The Larks.

On The Hill of The Man.

A humble young Man

Said Thank You.

 

Thank You he said again.

Again and again and again.

By Lee Broom

GETTINGS, MY GETTINGS

cropped-big_bang.png

GETTINGS, MY GETTINGS
Ode to my Birth-Mother
Esther Mae Gettings – Oakes.
By Lee Broom from The Line.

 

These Gettings now gotten

Ungotten, what for?

Seem, now that they’re gotten

Substantially more.

 

Behold these begettings

These Gettings of mine

Remember how hidden

These Gettings, so fine,

 

Ungotten these Gettings

Unlovely, unreal

Now, soft as new cotton

Stroke

Breathe

Feel.

My Gettings.

IMG_0001