“Chronicles of A Momma’s Boy” is a collection of poetry and short stories that represents the life and experiences of a man raised in the inner city with an appreciation for the world.

Chronicles of a Momma's Boy

A Collection of Poetry and Short StoriesBy Anthony T. Pressley

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2009 Anthony T. Pressley
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-2803-9

Contents

"The Calling"...........................................................1"The Power Of GOD"......................................................5"My Momma Built this Country, America"..................................11"Soul through the sole of the bottom of your shoes".....................15"A Letter from Chile"...................................................19"Her name is Xemania"...................................................25"The Day My Brother Bernard Shot the Bus driver"........................31"Never Belated Loved"...................................................41The Obituary............................................................45Romono & Juquette.......................................................47"Gunshots in the Family"................................................55"Hats Off To Jackie"....................................................63Hats off to Mother Minnie Hargrow.......................................69"Second Visit To Bus Boys and Poets"....................................75Lessons from My Pastor..................................................83A Song and A Dream for OPRAH............................................93A Written Praise........................................................99"A Prayer for Our President Obama"......................................103"My Darkest Secret".....................................................107"The Drummer Boy's Christmas"...........................................115"The Judgment Day"......................................................123

Chapter One

"The Calling"

A Poem Written October 20, 1981

"The Calling"

A voice Much greater than my father's So loudly shouted my name. With more clarity and authority Called from wherever it came. It cried like a clap of thunder And it echoed like an endless sky. With force that made me wonder If I am the beckoned and why So I silenced all around me And I listened with an un-waxed ear To see what Ghost had found me And what words I could hear.

This voice that cried with urgency Just would not let me free It screams were like an emergency And it continued to call on me. So I trembled in attention Questioning what to do Not knowing what to mention And especially to Who. To Who?

Should I run to the stranger And admit that I hear a voice Or run away with anger And make another choice.

This voice, this voice keeps calling And I don't know from where And what is more appalling Is to know that it is really there.

It is not my imagination And there is no one playing a trick It speaks to me from the heaven And it makes me real sick. Sick I can not stand the pain Of hearing the voice any longer But the more I try to restrain The voice keeps getting stronger. Oh the voice, ah, the voice I can hear it calling me The voice, aw, the voice Whispering so desperately! There is no use I can remember The last time I ran to hide, the voice just got louder And started calling from the inside. This voice I keep on hearing Makes it seems so hard But the reason I am not fearing Cause I know this voice is God

Chapter Two

"The Power Of GOD"

Written January 1982

"The Power Of GOD"

God is Powerful I am powerless.

God causes the birds to sing The rivers to wave The trees to bloom The ice to glaze The moon to shine The sun to rise The lost to find The rivers to tide God causes the owls to peep The grass to grow The child to speak The wise to know The earth to yield Its greatest fruit The grapes in fields To leave its roots

The Heavens to stand In a Kingdom above God created all man In peace and love The valleys low The mountains high A colorful rainbow In a great light blue sky.

God created the fish in the sea The fowl of the air And of you and me And great folks everywhere.

The rain, the snow The sleet, the hail The trees, the forest The rockies, the trail.

God created the colors The flavors, the dark and the light The stars in the galaxy that shine so bright God created life and death And every breath The body, the blood The skin and the hair The smart, the heart The concern and the care.

God created hearing, tasting, smelling, touching and sight God created morning, evening, day and night.

God created people and places and all kind of things Even peace and joy and the grace God brings God created music and dancing, romancing and love The faith in a union is blessed from above.

Yes, in the beginning God created this world And out from a void the earth God hurled.

Into a darkness God spoke a light Then separated them all from day and night

When considering creation From the world's foundation It is amazing to think a link To this generation.

It was the best God could do When he tended a moment To create me and you.

It took a miracle to create the moon and stars It took a miracle to create airplanes and cars.

Computers, technology, fax and the microwave But even more miraculous my soul he saved.

Yes it took a miracle to create Heaven and earth And the miracle expanded as God gave me new birth.

The miracle gets better each day of my life As God has delivered me from all pain and strife.

I bow before Him cause His is my King God is the reason my soul does sing

My Father in the Heaven above Hollowed be thine name as means great love

Let thine will be done in all the earth As I send your glory for all you are worth Give this day my daily bread It is by your hand that this man is fed.

Forgive me my debts As I forgive my debtors too

Lead me not into temptation And the evil I do. For thine Is the Kingdom The Power and the Glory Forever your praise Will be my life story.

As God reins in the east, west, north and south His praise shall continually be in my mouth. All powerful, omnicipant Most wonderfully magnificent, Alpha and Omega Beginning and the End. My Father, My Father, My Father, My Friend I will submit to your Power Every hour with a "Yes and Amen"

Chapter Three

"My Momma Built this Country, America"

Written July 4, 1982

My Momma Built This Country, America.

My momma built this country, America. All by herself, she did it. My momma. Didn't no man help her. My momma did it all by herself. My moma built America.

Moma laid her little black babies aside to tend to the master's wife sons. My moma. Her blood went into the dirt and the soil of the land. My moma built this country.

Her sweat gave steam to the irons that folded laundry starched white for quarters. Her labor is what made this country bold and brave and strong. My moma built America.

Moma is the one who told Ms. Ross "Listen here, Ms. Betsy, when you are sewing that flag add a little red, white and blue".

She was in the room when John Hancock finally decided to sign the Constitution cause my moma built this Country, America.

Moma nursed the soldiers for two world wars when they came home wounded. Moma taught this country good foods like pork and beans and collard greens and sweet potato pies. Yes, my moma built this country.

Moma was in Selma ordering food from the back door unable to sit at the lunch counter and drinking water from the Colored people fountain. But moma kept building America. She was in New York when they rolled Ms. Liberty into New York's harbor. And Moma said she put her hands in her apron and said, "Who's Ha? Who's Ha?" Cause my momma built this country.

Moma was in Philadelphia when the Liberty Bell cracked its side. And moma said she cracked her sides laughing cause America ain't know no liberty then. My moma built this Country? Moma. You mean to tell me you do not know who my moma is. Well she is the wonderful Ms. Africa.

Chapter Four

"Soul through the sole of the bottom of your shoes"

Written March 1883

"Soul through the sole of the bottom of your shoes"

A man has no soul Unless he has felt it down in the hole of the sole Of the bottom of his shoes.

He does not know what life means Until he has walked across the greens Grass with a hole in the bottom of his shoes.

Until he has walked for blocks And counted all the rocks feeling the hard knocks with a hole in the sole of the bottom of his shoes.

Watching where he passes Avoiding all the broken glasses Trotting in the rain Feeling lots of pain Walking the full mile Wearing still a smile Moving with true ease Stepping lively if you please With feet touching the ground Holding his foot down With a shoe that has been worn And a hole that is now torn Not knowing what to do Yet needing a new shoe Standing strong with a pride untold Protecting his toe from the hole in the sole of the bottom of his shoes.

A man has no soul, no soul, no soul, Until he has felt it down in the hole of the sole of the bottom of his shoes.

The Blues.

Chapter Five

"A Letter from Chile"

Written August 1985

A Letter Home from Chile

Dear Mom and Dad:

I hope this letter reaches all of my wonderful family in the best physical, mental and spiritual conditions. First of all, I love everyone. I arrived safely in Chile last week. It was a very long flight out of Miami to Santiago, the capital city of Chile. Upon my arrival, I saw the most beautiful mountains in the world. We settled in a monastery for our orientation. Afterwards, we were placed on trains and sent into different cities around the country to meet our host families.

I arrived in the early evening in Chillan. It is a city about six hours south of the Capital City by train. As the train approached I saw a crowd of people holding signs that read, "Viva Tony". They were very excited to meet me. I immediately learned that I was the first African American to ever step foot into this little city in south Chile. They welcomed me as if I was royalty. Hundreds of people were awaiting my arrival at the train station.

Suddenly, this man and woman walked up to me and hugged me. They were Dr. and Mrs. Herrera. They were accompanied by their four children, Victor Hugo, Rodrigo, Amenia and Patricio. Everyone was so very nice to me. They drove me to their lovely home in downtown Chillan. It is a beautiful home with a maid name Carmensa.

I went out with Victor Hugo and Rodrigo to a party on my first night. Victor Hugo is the only person here who speaks English. He was an exchange student to the United States four years ago so he escorts me around this beautiful city. All of the people gathered around me. They said, "Meda la Negro" which means look at the Negro. I learned quickly that the people here are especially fond of Black Americans. They call us "Los Ninos de Dios" That means, "the children of God". They think we are God's chosen people. It is amazing how nice people can be towards you for being Black. I am not use to this. I think every Black child in the United States should have this opportunity to come and study in Chile where they will learn to appreciate who they are. The people here in Chile are not as friendly to the white students. They refer to them as Gringos.

There is a tradition here where people pinch each other for good luck when they see a black person. My mother here loves being seen with me. She takes me to the market place and loses me so that she can call my name out loud and I would answer, "Si momma" and it would cause the people to react in shock and amazement. As I walk down the street the people ask to touch my hair and rub my skin for good luck. Wow, I never knew that this kind of place existed.

I was really bothered by the poor people I saw in the streets. Many little children as young as four and five were in the streets asking for bread and butter. My exchange brothers would not allow me to give money to them. I gave one person a dollar and they were so happy. That American dollar was worth eleven of their dollars. I saw many poor people rummaging through the trash for food. It really bothered me. The poor here is really poor. It seems this country only have the very rich and the very poor. Nothing in between.

The food here is really good. Carmensa is a really good cook. Breakfast is very light but lunch is four courses and biggest one of the day. Today we had a delicious homemade soup, a wonderful salad, roast beef, rice and some vegetables I never had before. I loved it all. This was all for lunch. The entire family comes home for lunch and after eating everyone take a one hour nap. All of the city shuts down for lunch. Children go home for lunch and then return to school after a little nap. My father here is a dentist. He shuts down his office and comes home everyday for lunch and returns to his practice at 2:00 p.m. Wow, it would be nice to have the entire family home for lunch each day back at home.

I had to take off my school ring here. Men here do not wear any jewelry unless they are married. Things here are very different. Everyone is extremely Catholic. All the schools and all the people. Augustus Pinochet is the president and people here seem afraid to talk about him. I was told to not speak of my majoring in Political Science at the University of Maryland. Dr. Herrera, my host father, told me that in this house as far as politics are concerned, we are dead chickens. That means we do not speak of governments, politics or any thing of the sort. Each Sunday at noon the military marches down the main street and everyone is expected to come out of their homes and stand and watch. The people stand there with blank faces and silently.

The girls here are very pretty. It seems all of them are interested in me for being a Black man. However, as an exchange student, I feel like an ambassador of the United States. I would never do anything that would reflect negatively on me and my country. So I avoid dating any of these girls. Except, I do really like this one young lady name Xemenia. We went out for lunch one day. Here it is a tradition that a girl's brother must accompany her on dates. So I went out with them and so many people followed us in the restaurant. I attracted so many people into the restaurant until I was not charged for my meal.

Everywhere I go the people give me something. I went to purchase souvenirs and the people gave them to me free. I feel like a movie star over here. This is the best feeling in the world. Chile is so beautiful. It reminds me of what life might have been like in the United States in the 1950's. It reminds me of the TV. show "Happy Days' with the Fonz. Life here is like a fantasy. When I walk out of the door of my family's house, the people parade behind me chanting, "Pele, Pele," the Brazilian soccer player.

All of the people here are shorter than me. They are amazed with my height and shoe size. Last night they all ran around the house in a pair of my shoes. We took lots of pictures and it was a lot of fun. So far, the highlight of my trip was the trip to the National Zoo. The family loaded up two cars and drove a few hours north to Tamuko. A beautiful city in the mountains. We stopped to eat in a diner and continued up north until we reached the Zoo. I think this was the most embarrassing moment to my host family.

They never expected the crowd of visitors at the Zoo to react to me as they did. I was a spectacle. The animals received no more attention because the crowd gathered around me in sheer amazement. I upstaged the animals at the Zoo. The Herrera's felt bad that the people rushed me. I liked the attention. It is great to be in a place where you are adored, admired and loved because of the color of your skin. My experience in Chile open my eyes and my mind to the world.

Chapter Six

"Her name is Xemania"

Written August 1985

"Her name is Xemania"

She was so very beautiful as I was about to leave the town I stared out of the train window yet could not hear her sound. I met her down in Chile as I grew from a boy. There I was an exchange student and it is from this I tell a love story.

There I met my first sweetheart so beautiful to stare. With bright brown eyes, a lovely face a long black shining hair. As I was leaving to come back home I knew I would never see her again. Yet I will never forget her, my darling sweet Xemania.

It was under a bright, moon light night in Chile, South America When I knew it felt so right that I would always love her.

When I first laid my eyes on this beautiful girl She could not speak any English but she sure enough rocked my world.

I knew that courting her would be a little strange. Because I was a college student in Chile on exchange.

I was a student ambassador in Chile representing the United States. So I had to remain mindful of socializing and secret dates.

But I learned something about the people in Chile that I should never forget It was something about black people for which they had so much respect.

The people in Chile loved black people so I could not do any wrong Their love and admiration were expressed so very strong.

They call black people "Los Ninos De Dios" Which means the "children of God" Getting use to such adoration Was unusual and hard.

Yes it was there in Chile where I met this beautiful face Who kissed me with her soft sweet lips and blessed me with her grace. We communicated by holding hands And speaking through our eyes Our languages did not understand So we had to compromise.

There was something special about her I can not explain. But one thing for sure I will miss you, Xemania.

My semester in Chile Was my one and only chance To experience such a beauty And to laugh as we danced. As she pranced and romanced me with her mind. Xemania, Xemania the sweetest girl I will ever find.

The other day I rushed to the mail box Hoping to find a letter Though it has been so long ago I could never ever forget her.

I held her last note to my heart With a wish to still smell her sweet perfume. And then I knew right from the start Like a flower the love would bloom.

I wished to kiss her face And to gently massage her hand And as I stood in place I began to understand

Just what I felt that morning when it was time to go. We kissed each other goodbye and wished it was not so. I recall sitting on the train as it slowly moved down the track We matched our hands to the window with the hopes of coming back

Good bye Xemania please do not cry

We shall see each other bye and bye Don't forget me my darling because it is true For the rest of my life I will remember you

Xemania, Xemania why do we have to end Xemania my love will I see you again.

The train moved faster and so did my heart The train kept moving til we did part.

The train started rolling down the track I kept hoping that I could come back

Faster faster til she was out of sight I could not sleep at all that night.

Xemania, Xemania what will I do How will I ever stop loving you.

You can make a grown man cry If love could kill then I would die.

You are the reason I live to smile Your charm your grace your loving style.

Xemania, Xemania do not let me go. You are the only love story I know.

And if I never see you again. The name Xemania will never end.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Chronicles of a Momma's Boyby Anthony T. Pressley Copyright © 2009 by Anthony T. Pressley. Excerpted by permission.
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