Issue #36 - moni's top 10 E-ZINE
(The Poets Niche Official Weekly Newsletter)
Monday, June 14, 1999
This week's issue
- IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES
- NEW COMPUTER VIRUS
- A FATHER'S NOTE TO PROSPECTIVE SUITORS
- SHORT, SHORT, REALLY SHORT STORY
- MORE GOOD NEWS TO REPORT FROM MEMBERS OF THE POETS NICHE
- WEBSITE TO CHECKOUT
- JUST A LITTLE HUMOR and WHAT MEN REALLY MEAN!
- POEMS OF THE WEEK
- moni's Poem of the Week
"Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when
our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."
1) IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES (author unknown) -
If I knew it would be the last time that I'd see you fall asleep,
I would tuck you in more tightly and pray the Lord, your soul to keep,
If I knew it would be the last time that I see you walk out the door,
I would give you a hug and kiss and call you back for one more.
If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in
praise, I would video tape each action and word, so I could play them
back day after day.
If I knew it would be the last time, I could spare an extra minute or
two to stop and say "I love you," instead of assuming, you would KNOW I
If I knew it would be the last time I would be there to share your day,
well I'm sure you'll have so many more, so I can let just this one slip
For surely there's always tomorrow to make up for an oversight, and we
always get a second chance to make everything right.
There will always be another day to say our "I love you's",
And certainly there's another chance to say our "Anything I can do's?"
But just in case I might be wrong, and today is all I get,
I'd like to say how much I love you and I hope we never forget...
Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old alike, and today may be
the last chance you get to hold your loved one tight...
So if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today?
For if tomorrow never comes, you'll surely regret the day,
That you didn't take that extra time for a smile, a hug, or a kiss and
you were too busy to grant someone, what turned out to be their one last
So hold your loved ones close today, whisper in their ear,
Tell them how much you love them and that you'll always hold them dear,
Take time to say "I'm sorry," "please forgive me," "thank you" or "it's
And if tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today.
2) COMPUTER VIRUS UPDATE - There is another computer virus that attaches
itself to e-mail as an "attached" file. Please be careful about opening
"attachments" even when they come from people you know. The virus, known
as a "worm" attaches itself to the names of people in your e-mail
correspondence. The attacking program shows up as an E-mail attachment.
When opened, it embeds itself in the computer's software, destroying
files created by common applications like Word, Powerpoint and Excel and
propagating itself to the victim's E-mail. It is far more dangerous than
the Melissa computer virus, which spread rapidly in March as a sort of an
E-mail chain letter but was not designed to destroy files. Several large
corporations, including Boeing, AT&T and General Electric, Microsoft,
Intel, Symantec said their computers had been infected and moved to limit
the damage, in some cases by shutting down their E-mail systems. The
program is particularly insidious, anti-virus experts said, because it is
attached to an E-mail message -- ostensibly from someone known to the
computer user. The message has a salutation with the recipient's name
and then says: "I received your E-mail and I shall send you a reply ASAP.
Till then, take a look at the attached zipped docs. Bye."
3) A FATHER'S NOTE TO PROSPECTIVE SUITORS: 5 Simple Rules (author unknown) -
Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk, you'd better be
delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance
at her, so long as you do not look at anything below her neck. If you
cannot keep your eyes or hands off my daughter's body, I will remove
Rule Three: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without
utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me
elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
Rule Four: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a pot-bellied, balding,
middle-aged, dim-witted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter,
I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where
you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel,
and five acres behind the house.
Rule Five: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to
mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming over a
rice paddy outside of Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the
voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you
to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway, you
should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter
password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter
home safely and early, then return to your car because there is no need
for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.
4) SHORT, SHORT, REALLY SHORT STORY by Katherine A. Smith -
It was due time for our trip into town. Mama, my sister Sarah and I
lived in a rural area of Louisiana. Walking was our only way of getting
around then, but it made us no never mind. Our town was about three
miles away, but it was a weekly delight. We strolled along dirt roads
and high stepped through a meadow filled with wild flowers and tall grass
that tickled our thigh. The trees along the bayou swayed gently in the
breeze and the sun shone high and bright. It was a fine day for our walk.
Once in town, we'd head straight for the market that wore its name across
the widows like a lace scarf and the baskets of fruit seemed to make a
colorful skirt lining the store front. Sarah and I held Mama's hands as
we crossed the road, swerving to miss people and buggies. Mama
controlled our movements like a machine as she safely guided us across
the road to the walkway.
James Davis, the store owner, was filling a basket with okra when Mama
walked up beside him. "Mornin', Mr. James," Mama sort of sang as she
"Good mornin' Glory. How you?" Mr. Davis sang back. Everybody called
Mama, Glory, because her name is Gloria.
"Well, I's just fine. Thanks fo askin'. I see you got yo' self some
good lookin fruit here."
"Well, you know, I tries to give ma customa's d bess," Mr. Davis responds
in the heaviest southern drawl I've ever heard.
As they laugh and continue to talk, Sarah and I looked around. We stood
right by Mama's side until we were told that we could move around. Being
raised to respect our elders, we were told to stay out of grown folk's
talk and stay in a child's place. Mama sent us after a few things while
she picked shrimp for jambalaya. A real treat for our Sunday dinner.
Racing off we entered the market as the smell of baked goods grabbed at
our noses. Making my way through isles lined with shelves filled with
jars, cans, boxes and sacks, I came upon the glass case that housed pies,
cakes and cookies. I wondered if the glass was to protect the goodies
from bugs or from little hands like mine. Deciding that it was from the
likes of me, I hurried over to the counter where Sarah and I met up with
Mama. She checked to see if we had collected everything that she sent us
after and gave us both money to buy our treats.
I had a hard time deciding what to buy with my dollar fortune, but
somehow I'd always make my way to the candy counter. I looked through
the glass at all the different kinds of chocolates. There were chocolate
covered raisins and fruit, light chocolate, dark chocolate, white
chocolate, chocolate squares, hearts and even chocolate covered in
colored foil paper. I was kneeling in front of the case when Sarah
walked up. "Which one you gonna git?" she asked holding paper and
pencils that she often bought with her money.
"Don't know yet. How bout you?"
"Choclit raisins fo me," she answered rather matter of factly.
"You always git them kind. Won't you try some other one?" I questioned
her since of adventure.
"Don't want no other one. Them's fine wit me, na come on. Mama's almost
done," she said in her bossy voice.
Sarah was a small frame girl, but she never let it get in the way of her
making a point. Usually quiet, she had a habit of twirling her hair
while she drew pictures in her books. She liked to draw faces and eyes.
I think it's because her face seemed so perfect. She was going to be a
I ran over to the toys to have a quick look see. Time was running out.
There were all sorts of toys and games. Wooden Soldier men, tea sets
and a mop head doll that caught my eye. She had puckered lips, black
hair in plaits and a surprised sort of look on her face. I took her from
the shelf and cradled her in my arms as I walked over to the counter.
"How much is she?" I asked.
"Oh she's a dollar," answered Ms. Davis lowering the price to fit a
child's budget. She was a jolly woman. She reminded me of my
grandmother with her hefty build and her loving eyes. Eyes that noticed
the disappointment that flooded my face as I turned to look towards the
candy counter clutching the dollar in my palm. "What's the matter
honey?" she asked in a concerned tone.
"I wanted to git some candy and the doll baby, but I's only got one
dollar," I said in a sad and pouty little voice.
"Well, what you say to my letting you get yo baby with three quarters and
then you can git some candy?"
My solemn look broke into a smile that was brighter than the shine of a
new penny. "Yes, ma'am. See I done give her a name already. It's
Cindy," I said as I followed her over to the candy case.
"Cindy, huh? Well that's aright pretty name fo a pretty baby," Mrs.
Davis said as she chuckled.
I picked my candy, paid Mrs. Davis and tucked my treat in my pocket.
"Mary girl, Mama's ready na. Let's go," Sarah yelled at me.
"I'm ready. I'm comin." I said in a rushed voice. As I started to run,
I glanced back at Mrs. Davis and thanked her again.
"You welcome chile. Na you take care of that Cindy ya hear?"
"Yes ma'am, I will. Bye."
Mama and Sarah, waiting at the door, took a minute to smile at my
excitement before loading up for our journey home. We were just about
out of town, when Mama remembered an errand she needed to attend. She
sat us down on the stairs of old Ms. Green's place. Ms. Green sewed all
sorts of pretty dressed and things for people in our parts. She was very
nice and talked to us girls as if she was as close as our own Mama. We
watched Mama walk across the road and disappear from view. Sarah and I
began talking about playing time with Cindy, we were carrying on about
how we would raise our new baby when two boys came from around back of
Ms. Green's place and began to tease us.
"Hey, what do we have here? Looks like supplies and all," said the
oldest one wearing a beat up old straw hat, coverall's and enough dirt to
plant a row of tomatoes.
"Yeah, let's see what's in them sacks," the other one followed timidly.
We both just sat in front of our goods ready to protect them with our
lived. We would rather deal with these two boys, than to face Mama and
explain that we let them take our food without a fight. Suddenly the
younger one grabbed Cindy from me and began to dance about with her.
"Look at the ugly doll baby. Look at her," he said as he threw her all
about pulling at her until two of her plaits and an arm fell off.
We were unaware that Ms. Green had come to the window to see what all the
commotion was about. She came out onto the porch and ran the boys off.
"Y'all get on outta here and leave them girls alone. Go on ya here. I'm
gonna tell ya misses ya been bad," she yelled waving her arms about. The
boys threw Cindy at me and ran off. Sarah picked up the pieces, dusted
them off and brought them to me. Through the blur of tears I looked up
at Ms. Green who had walked over to us. "What did they do to yo poor
baby?" she asked in a sympathetic tone.
"We were speechless and just held out the pieces for her to see.
"Well na, it ain't all bad. I think I can fix her right up. Give her to
me and let's see what I kin do." She took the pieces and turned and
disappeared inside the door of her shop. Sarah and I went to the window
to watch. My tears had ceased, for the time being anyway. Sarah says
that I'm a crybaby. She says that my eyes are so big because I flush
them with so many tears. I just tell her that she's mad because I'm
healthy and she's so skinny, but she always comes back with, "you ain't
healthy, you fat."
We sat on the steps awaiting the return of my ten minute old baby and
Sarah comforted me. We heard footsteps and turned to see Mama returning
from her errand. "Y'all ready?" she asked as she approached our sitting
Before we could answer, Ms. Green came out with a like new fixed up
Cindy. "Here you go Chile, she's all done up na."
"Thank you ma'am," I said grinning from ear to ear.
"What happened?" Mama asked with a puzzled look.
"You got yo' self some good girls here. Them ole bad Tilly boys came by
here and tore up the chile's doll baby. I tell you, they are somethin
awful. But they didn't fuss, no ma'am. They just sat right there ready
to protect what was theirs. Ya ought to be proud of em," Ms. Green said
with a shrug.
"Did they hurt you?" Mama asked as she turned to me noticing trails of
tears on my dusty face.
"No ma'am. They just hurt Cindy and Ms. Green fixed her up," I said as I
reached in my pocket and pulled out my chocolate candy to hand it to Ms.
Green. "This is fo fixin up Cindy fo me," I said.
"Oh, sweet chile. I can't eat all that stuff. I'd be as big around as a
barrel. No chile, you eat it up fo me. Y'all just as sweet as them
choclit candies. I guess from now on y'all gonna be my choclit sweets,"
she said with a chuckle and we joined her in laughter ad I hugged her for
being so nice.
We all thanked her, said goodbye and loaded up again for home. Strolling
back through the meadow, we picked flowers for the supper table and
soaked up some sunshine. I smiled to think that I had made a good
decision with my money. Cindy was worth a fortune and she was going to
be with me for a long time coming. I could savor her longer than those
chocolates I so yearned for.
Thanks Katherine! TALK ABOUT THE POWER OF SUGGESTION. Now I have to run
out and buy something CHOCLIT!! Please feel free to email your
comments directly to Katherine at KSA@ont.com. If you would like to
share a short, short, really short story (NO MORE than 3 pages), please
email it to ME ONLY at (email@example.com), and I will feature it in
an upcoming moni's top 10 E-ZINE.
5) MORE GOOD NEWS FROM MEMBERS OF THE POETS NICHE -
FROM KAREN ROBERTS - If you will recall, our sister Karen had a kidney
transplant earlier this year. Well, GOD is certainly GOOD, and I'm
delighted to share with you that Karen is doing GREAT!! With the love and
support from the members of the Poets Niche, Karen says that she's almost
back to her full strength. HONEY CHILE, I can't wait to see you in
Atlanta to GIVE YOU A BIG HUG!!
FROM RENEE DAVIS - Renee has been SMOKE FREE -- no cravings or stress --
for two months, and 14 days. WAY TO GO!!
FROM RODNEY COATES - Some of you have asked WHERE'S RODNEY? Rumor has
that Rodneyc's book "ANNUAL EDITIONS: African American History 00/01,"
which is published by Dushkin McGraw-Hill, is coming out in July. This
is a compilation of current newspaper, magazine, and journal articles on
African American history. A quick glance of the Table of Contents
include topics and articles regarding -- Africa: Ancient and Colonial;
The Beginning of the Atlantic Slave Trade; and African Americans and the
Beginning of the Twentieth Century. You can see for yourself why
Rodneyc has been MISSING IN ACTION and checkout his website at (http:/
www.dushkin.com/catalog/0072333723.mhtml). Okay Rodney, you have used up
ALL YOUR EXCUSES, and I expect to see a new poem from you real soon. Oh
yeah, I'M PROUD OF YOU and KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!!
6) EVENTS - On June 19th, celebrate Juneteenth in Baltimore. A hands on
workshop teaching underserved inner-city youth to use the Internet for
genealogical and historical research this workshop is a part a day long
seminar Juneteenth. For more details, call Morning Sunday Hettlemen at
(410) 467-2724, checkout their website (http://chencomserv.com
juneteenth/) or email (firstname.lastname@example.org).
On June 23, 1999, a seminar will be held on Intellectual Property
Protection For Emerging Businesses. Learn the basics of trademarks,
patents, copyrights and trade secrets that are critical to today's
business market. This seminar will address the scope of core
intellectual property protection and will outline a plan for identifying,
controlling and enforcing your company's intellectual property. A brief
segment on related employment policies and agreements will be included.
The seminar is geared toward the needs of emerging entrepreneurial
companies that recognize the need to protect intellectual property from
inception. For more details, please contact Brian Darville at (202)
638-6666 or email him at (email@example.com).
Thanks Nicole for sharing this information with the group. Please feel
free to email ME ONLY at (firstname.lastname@example.org) regarding EVENTS you'd
like to share with the group.
7) WEBSITE TO CHECKOUT - CUSHCITY.COM, the world's largest African-
merican bookstore, opened on the Internet, offering hundreds of titles in
more than 20 subject categories to readers interested in African-American
topics. Willie A. Richardson, President of Richberg Communications,
Inc., the company which launched (http://www.cushcity.com) said the site
will ultimately include every book in print by or about African
Americans. CUSHCITY.COM features monthly specials, books which are hot
off the press and exclusive video collections. Also available are
opportunities to earn free books by joining the CUSHCITY Bonus Club.
8) JUST A LITTLE HUMOR and WHAT MEN REALLY MEAN!
"IT'S A GUY THING."
Really means..."There is no rational thought pattern connected with it,
and you have no chance at all of making it logical."
"CAN I HELP WITH DINNER?"
Really means..."Why isn't it already on the table?"
"UH HUH," "SURE, HONEY," OR "YES, DEAR."
Really means....Absolutely nothing. It's a conditioned response.
"IT WOULD TAKE TOO LONG TO EXPLAIN."
Really means..."I have no idea how it works.
"TAKE A BREAK, HONEY, YOU'RE WORKING TOO HARD."
Really means..."I can't hear the game over the vacuum cleaner."
"THAT'S INTERESTING, DEAR."
Really means..."Are you still talking?"
"I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT YOU, AND GOT YOU THESE ROSES."
Really means..."The girl selling them on the corner was a real babe."
"I HEARD YOU."
Really means..."I haven't the foggiest clue what you just said, and am
hoping desperately that I can fake it well enough so that you don't spend
the next three days yelling at me."
"YOU LOOK TERRIFIC."
Really means..."Oh, God, please don't try on one more outfit. I'm
"I'M NOT LOST. I KNOW EXACTLY WHERE WE ARE."
Really means..."No one will ever see us alive again."
9) POEMS OF THE WEEK 42 - In celebration of Father's Day (on June 20th),
this week's poems are dedicated to and written for DEAR OLE DAD. Our
featured poets are:
MY DADDY by Mocha - Mocha@africana.com
DADDY'S LITTLE GIRL by Renee Davis - Rdavis1969@aol.com
bitter seed by bams - email@example.com
learning by Angela Singletary - firstname.lastname@example.org
FATHER WHO by Tamshi Williams - email@example.com
UNTITLED by Rose Ford - ROSEFORMS@aol.com
THANK YOU LADIES!! To checkout POEMS OF THE WEEK 42, please visit the
Poets Niche website at (www.nichemarket.com). Please feel free to send
your love and comments directly to the featured poets.
10) I'd like to send a special prayer out to Craig Gill, whose
grandmother passed away last week. Craig, I'm sorry I didn't get to see
you while you were here, but know that my prayers were with you and your
family. Please send your love and prayers to Craig at
Below is moni's Poem of the Week. I look forward to your comments and
appreciate your honest feedback.
HAVE A GREAT WEEK!
Father, forgive me for I have thoughts of sin.
He maketh me lay down and reveal my soul.
He taketh my love and made it shine like gold.
Father, forgive me for I have loved him from
the moment our thoughts became one.
Father, I confess, it is he I will love forever
with the purest heart.
Father, I know you will forgive me because there
will be no other to touch my life, because he
asked me to be his wife.
Monica Blache (c) 1999
(Or use your browser's buttons)