A Look at the Bright Side of Life

Archive for the ‘Happy’ Category

A Second Celebration of Love

February, for most, is the month that is associated with love between people.  But for me as of late, it has been something a little different.  For me, it is the occasion when I observe my love for myself.  It allows me to exist as a single person without feeling any shame or inadequacy.   This sense of self would not exist without others who have come before me.  What I am talking about in this instance is Black History Month.  As I learned about it, it instilled in me that not all things are fair and sometimes no matter how dire things may seem or how lowly others may think of you, you know that you have worth.  And that is reason enough to celebrate.  I hope that this has been a Happy Black History Month.  If you didn’t get the chance to introduce yourself to a contribution by an African American person this month, below I have some poems.



Bury Me In A Free Land

Make me a grave where’er you will,

In a lowly plain or lofty hill,

Make it among earth’s humblest graves,

But not in a land where men are slaves.


I could not rest if around my grave

I heard the steps of a trembling slave:

His shadow above my silent tomb

Would make it a place of fearful gloom.


I could not rest if I heard the tread

Of a coffle gang to the shambles led,

And the mother’s shriek of wild despair

Rise like a curse on the trembling air.


I could not sleep if I saw the lash

Drinking her blood at each fearful gash,

And I saw her babes torn from her breast,

Like trembling doves from their parent nest.


I’d shudder and start if I heard the bay

Of blood-hounds seizing their human prey,

And I heard the captive plead in vain

As they bound afresh his galling chain.


If I saw young girls from their mother’s arms

Bartered and sold for their youthful charms,

My eye would flash with mournful flame,

My death-paled cheek grow red with shame.


I would sleep, dear friends, where bloated might

Can rob of his dearest right;

My rest shall be calm in any grave

Where none can call his brother a slave.


I ask no monument, proud and high

To arrest the gaze of passers-by;

All that my yearning spirit craves,

Is bury me not in a land of slaves.


Learning To Read

Very soon the Yankee teachers

Came down and set up school;

But, oh! how the Rebs did hate it-

It was agin’ their rule.


Our masters always tried to hide

Book learning from our eyes;

Knowledge didn’t agree with slavery-

‘Twould make us all too wise.


But some of us would try to steal

A little from the book,

And put the words together,

And learn by hook or crook.


I remember Uncle Caldwell,

Who took pot liquor fat

And greased the pages of his book,

And hid it in his had.


And had his master ever seen

The leaves upon his head,

He’d have thought them greasy papers,

But nothing to be read.


And there was Mr. Turner’s Ben,

Who heard the children spell,

And picked up the words right up by heart,

And learned to read ’em well.


Well, the Northern folks kept sending

The Yankee teachers down;

And they stood right up and helped us,

Though Rebs did sneer and frown.


And I longed to read my Bible,

For precious words it said;

But when I begun to learn it,

Folks just shook their heads,


And said there is no use trying,

Oh! Chloe, you’re too late;

But as I was rising sixty.

I had no time to wait.


So I got a pair of  glasses,

And straight to work I went,

And never stopped till I could read

The hymns and Testament.


Then I got a little cabin

A place to call my own-

And I felt as independent

As the queen upon her throne.



An Indignation Dinner

Dey was hard times jes fo’ Christmas round our neighborhood one year;

So we held a secret meetin’, whah de white folds couldn’t hear,

To ‘scuss de situation, an’ to see what could be done

Towa’d a fust-class Christmas dinneh an’ a little Christmas fun.


Rufus Green, who called de meetin’ ris an’ said: “In dis here town,

An’ throughout de land, de white folks is a’tryin’ to keep us down.”

S”e: Dey bought us, sold us, beat us; now dey ‘buse us ca’se we’s free;

But when dey tetch my stomach, dey’s done gone too fur foh me!


“Is I right?” “You sho is Rufus!” roared a dozen hungry throats.

“Ef you’d keep a mule a-wo’kin’ don’t you tamper wid his oats.

Dat’s sense,” continued Rufus.  “But dese white folks nowadays

Has done got so close and stingy you can’t live on what dey pays.


“Here ’tis Christmas-time, an’ folkses, I’s indignant ‘nough to choke.

Whah’s our Christmas dinneh comin’ when we’s mos’ completely broke?

I can’t hahdly fo’d a toothpick an’ a glass o’ water.  Mad?

Say, I’m desp’ret! Dey jes better treat me nice, dese white folks had!”


Well, dey ‘bused de white folks scan’lous, till old Pappy Simmons ris,

Leanin’ on his cane to s’pote him, on account his rheumatis’,

An’ s”e: “Chilun, whut’s dat wintry wind a-sighin’ th’ough de street

‘Bout yo wasted summeh wages?  But, no matter, we mus’ eat.


“Now, I seed a beau’ful tuhkey on a certain gemmun’s fahm.

He’s a-growin’ fat an’ sassy, an’ a-struttin’to a chahm.

Chickens, sheeps, hogs, sweet pertaters-all de craps is fine dis year;

All we need is a committee foh to tote de goodies here.”


Well, we lit right in an’ voted dat it was a gran’ idee,

An’ de dinneh we had Christmas was worth trabblin’ miles to see;

An’ we eat a full an’ plenty, big an’little, great an’ small,

Not beca’se we was dishonest, but indignant, sah.  Dat’s all.






Happy Valentine’s Day

If I could have given these to you in person, I would’ve.


While we’re on this topic…

How much do you know about this little guy?


Most people like myself recognize that this image is Cupid. He is an angel and he makes people fall in love.  But, that is about all I knew.  That was until I read the February 3, 2015 edition of the Buyer’s Guide.  Here I will share most of the article, “What is Cupid’s connection to love?”,  with you.

God of love and desire

Ancient Greeks and Romans were prolific storytellers and used mythology to explain many of the mysteries of life.  Certain feelings and happenings on Earth were attributed to the moods and actions of gods who presided over the people.

In Roman mythology, Cupid was the god of desire, erotic love, attraction, and affection.  His Greek counterpart was Eros, while in Latin Cupid was known as Amor.  According to myth, Cupid was the son of the winged messenger Mercury and Venus, the goddess of love.  Cupid’s machinations were often guided by his mother’s hand, and matchmaking remained his most well-known trait.

As time went on and Christian influences pushed out ancient Greek and Roman beliefs, Cupid was seen as angel of heavenly and earthly love.  Cupid could easily be mistaken for many other angelic cherubim portrayed in artwork during the Renaissance period.  Eventually Cupid became a popular icon of Valentine’s Day.

Cupid’s Appearance

Cupid has appeared in different ways in illustrations and other artwork throughout history.  Sometimes he is depicted as a winged, chubby infant carrying a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Classical Greek art depicts Cupid as a slender, winged youth.

The reason Cupid has wings is because lovers are known to be flighty and change their moods and minds with some frequency.  He is boyish because love is irrational, and he carries arrows and a torch because love can both wound but also inflame the heart.

Cupid has traditionally been portrayed as benevolent, if not mischievous.  After all, his goal is to bring two lovers together.  His arsenal was equipped with two different kinds of arrows.  People pierced by gold tipped arrows would succumb to uncontrollable desire.  Those afflicted by an arrow with a blunt tip of lead desired only to flee.

“Cupid and Psyche”

Cupid may have been responsible for bringing many people together with his special arrows, but he was also granted the opportunity to experience love himself.  According to the myth of “Cupid and Psyche,” Psyche was a beautiful woman whose appearance rivaled even that of Venus.  People grew enchanted by her beauty and started to neglect the worship of Venus.  Jealous of this attention, Venus asked Cupid to make Psyche fall in love with a monster.  But when Cupid saw how beautiful Psyche was, he accidentally dropped the arrow meant for her and pricked himself instead.  The immediately became enamored with her.

Psyche who had not been able to marry like her other sisters, feared she had been cursed by the gods in some way.  She was sent away to avoid the premonition of marrying a monster, but Cupid hidden from sight, ended up visiting Psyche and gaining her trust and affection.  The pair them married, although Psyche had never seen her husband in the light of the day because he forbade her to look up him.  After all, he was a god and she was a mortal.

One night Psyche disobeyed Cupid’s edict and snuck a peek by candlelight.  She was amazed by his beauty and became startled, wounding herself on one of his arrows.  Psyche ended up dropping hot wax on Cupid, which woke him up and he ran off.

Psyche wandered endlessly trying to find her lost husband and had to go through trials established by a still-jealous Venus.  In one of her trials, she ended up getting put to sleep, but Cupid revived her and pleaded with Jupiter to make Psyche immortal and let her be his true love.  Jupiter ultimately granted that wish.

Well, there you have it.  I hope you enjoyed that article as much as I did.