Two Poems of Remembrance

Prayer for Wilt

Wilton Norman Chamberlain, August 21, 1936 – October 12, 1999

By Morgan Zo-Callaghan

so long, big dipper.

you—so long, longing,

—were you—reflecting? critical?

inner warrior against racism,

fit athlete, sweet pleasure to meet, legs still fleet

under blue, furry white skies—high fives

venice beach leisure. eternal rest, eternal activity,

conscious alive circle

passing to realms of mystery

your spirit’s next curiosity.

bye, elegant solitary man, human, hummin’ man.

thanks for sharing your glories

artiste, playing basketball

hoops, round ball

like earth

joy uncontained, the man in the boy, you, gracefully tall

quick wall with a finger roll

century of points: one game!

scoring, exploring women too

loving, bragging

abusing, respecting, growing

glowing in the mirror above your bed.

you—disliking “hero” tag, people’s person

learning kindness

ciao, hasta la vista

to the ineffable unknown may you go,

continue growing tall

passing through that wondrous door

go where you’ll soar, like you danced down a shiny wooden floor.

Poem for Elias

One day I arrived at the Adult School to teach my Basic Skills/GED/High School class in a computer lab/classroom. A weeping young Latina told me that one of my “favored” students, her cousin, had died. Elias was enthusiastic, a sharp, warm person, lots of fun, curious to learn and a hard worker. No doubt, teachers fall in love with their students. When I went home, I wrote this for Elias’ family, and for my sad self. The family translated the following into Spanish and read it at Elias’ funeral service.

Sure, the other night I could reach up

hug happily kumquat stars kissing in the black galaxy

breathing cool air, transported, away from damaged dreams

soft silvery soaking sorrowful rain tonight

pattering stinging my lamenting arched face

under golden green lemon tree

dark after midnight now, teen boy-man, Elias

dead so suddenly

Mother screams hot pouring tears

We’ve lost you, Elias, like we might a sacred jewel

don’t let us keep you here,

fly away, sweet buddy.

How I clench my life

as if I could survive Señor Muerte,

thief again on this black drenched night