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Maligayang Lalaki

Let me set the scene: I walk up to five men skateboarding by the statue in Prospect Park, they are hanging with each other and I approach and I say, "Hey, I wrote a poem about you, for you, pwede ko bang basahin sayo?"

Nakatingin silang lima sa akin na parang, ano, anong nangyayari dito? At pagkatapos ay isa-isa nilang sinasabi, "Oo, sigurado, gawin mo." Ang aking telepono ay may natitirang 1% na baterya. Maaaring mamatay ito bago ko pa simulan. Ako ay isang puting queer na babae sa kanyang 40s na nakasuot ng mga patong na damit para tumakbo at tanging mga mata ko lang ang nakikita. Lima silang may kulay, nasa 20's, lahat nakamaskara. Ang senaryo na ito ay tinatanggap na ang uri ng bagay na iyong pagtatawanan. Sa lahat ng paraan, gawin.

Halos lumakad ako sa tabi nila pagkatapos kong isulat ito, ngunit pagkatapos ay naisip ko, bakit hindi sabihin sa iyong muse na sila ang iyong muse? Anong pinsala ang maaaring gawin nito?

Ako ay bago sa tula, ngunit, gusto ko na ito ay mas madaling ibahagi kaysa sa isang buong dula. Maaari ka lamang magbigay ng isang tao ng isang tula.

Gusto ko rin itong ibahagi sa inyong lahat. Sa tingin ko ang sining ay nagpapagaling, nagbubukas sa atin at tinutulay ang mga puwang, at ginagawang hindi na tayo nag-iisa. Totoo naman sa akin eh. At gustung-gusto kong panoorin silang nag-isketing, napuno ako ng kaligayahan sa kanilang tuwa.

Mga skater sa pula at itim

Mga board na umiikot

sa ilalim ng puting sneakers

Young gifted at

Nag-e-egging sa isa't isa

Isang malambot yehhhhhh

Masayang ngiti

Smack talk

Whooo ayan na

Pagsusukat ng dalawang nakabaligtad na kono

Roadside orange at 911 blue

Ito ang pinakamasaya sa mga lalaki

Nakaduyan sa mga sikomoro

Nagbanggaan ang mga deck

Parang limot

Hanggang dalawampu't limang degree

Sa ilalim ng araw sa Brooklyn

Para sa mga nagtataka kung ano ang naisip nila - Sila ay sahig. Gustung-gusto nilang maging paksa ng isang tula. Nag fist bump silang lahat. ... Ito ay isang palitan ng pagmamahal. Minahal ko sila at pagkatapos ay kailangan kong ipakita sa kanila. At ibinalik nila ito. And to think muntik na akong hindi tumalikod at magsabi ng kung ano ano at basahin ito sa kanila. I mean, kakaiba... hey, sinulatan ko kayo ng tula pwede ko bang ibahagi sa inyo? ... pero, anong saya.

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8 PAST RESPONSES

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Anonymous Feb 12, 2021
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Maren Baturin Breazeale Feb 11, 2021

Love the story - and the poem. I can see and feel the joy in those moments of sharing. Thank you.

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Debbie Dargavell Feb 11, 2021

Your story made me happy.

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Chris Page Feb 11, 2021

It’s really interesting, because, obviously, you took a great risk. Whenever we share our personal creativity, it’s a risk, but way more so sharing with complete strangers. Brava for that! (And the poem is really really beautiful..,)

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Patrick Watters Feb 11, 2021

Ah, yehhh, healing the world one small act at a time.

A wave and a smile go a long to smooth another’s journey, and perhaps even soften a bully’s heart. }:- a.m. proverb on the hoof

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ChiefTB Feb 11, 2021

That is a wonderful story and poem. Sharing with the muse. Love it!

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Vicky Smith Feb 11, 2021

Thank you for these pure-hearted demonstrations of love. You "See No Strangers!"

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Kristin Pedemonti Feb 11, 2021
Thank you Winter for listening to your inner voice that said, "stop & share" I resonate deeply! I've had the most amazing and deep connection in the streets, on subways, busses, sidewalks when I simply stop and connect. usually I'm the one initiating. Though at times, it's also the willingness to stop and engage ♡In DC, it was with Mr Weeks, a towering man with a booming voice, ebony skin and a twinkly grin. I'd see him when I walked to work. I dress rather "loudly" in pink with like green, turquoise blue and Mr Weeks began our initial connection with "hello, where you goin' dressed like that on a Tuesday morning?"I began our connection by stopping & responding, "World Bank where I'm teaching Storytelling"Mr Weeks: "phhhhhpppphhht, World Bank?! They don't need you, the kids, the teens, they need you..."And thus began the glorious nearly daily encounters and conversations, "being schooled" by Mr Weeks. And my payment to Mr Weeks were Hugs. Initial offer from me to him an... [View Full Comment]