Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

Urban Desolation

April 22, 2012
The vacant stare of broken windows
Empty sockets not seeing
Lifeless – no calls to passersby
No glow of lamps in the evening
Curtains no longer move in the breezes
 
Another crouching nearby
Disconsolate in weeds and glass
Wears a plywood blindfold
Nothing seen, nothing noticed
Weary of watching decline and decay
 
Where are the children?
Where is the laughter?
No mothers keep watch
From the front stoops – silence
Hellos and goodbyes long absent
 
A few occupied
Airless rooms where fear huddles
Barred and locked windows
Lean against the summer heat
Air conditioners, none or few – comfort
 
Youngsters work the corners
Cars quietly come and go
Some with the fun and excitement of a parade
Others, desperate, unwitting,
Ride in their funeral cortege
 
Time catches up
Years of rejection take their toll
Generations cycle
Two or three bring permanence
Permanence, but not hope
 
Those who could, left
Others, hostage to meager means, stayed
Role models of doctors, lawyers, teachers – gone
Many young fathers ran away or were taken away
Young mothers struggle to hold the pieces together
 
Society indifferent in its ignorance
Misery unseen, unfelt, unknown, unacknowledged
 “Welfare queens” become real to the uninformed
Misinformation yields certitude of solutions
Certitude of solutions, but no action
 
© 2012 Thomas W. Cummins

Visit to Donna Brown’s – Door County

April 21, 2012

In August, 1994, we visited the art studio of Donna Brown in Door County, Wisconsin. I wrote a brief reflection at that time on her working environment and the paintings hanging on the walls. We purchased one painting which hangs in our guest bathroom.

The cats looked like little rags
On the rocker near
Stretched out sound asleep
Yellow lab taking up
Rug by the work table
 
She sat there so peacefully
String trio competing
Rattling windows, bent hollyhocks
 
He sat painting – motionless
Hanging among the flowers
Golden hair peeking earlier
Under garage door saying, “Hi.”
 
Eating berries, cat held
Head by face full length
Down body hanging
Later “helping mom” at Hardi

© 1994 Thomas W. Cummins

Brick Patio

April 21, 2012

From my desk drawer archive:

 

Moss takes over as
One might who owns these red bricks
Always damp, shady

© 1995 Thomas W. Cummins

I’m reminded

April 20, 2012

Another blogger’s work reminded my of several haiku languishing in my desk

 

Mark Twain knew them well
Paddle-powered beasts of
Burden spewing ash

6/24/95

A Small Upper Window

April 15, 2012

A Small Upper Window

A light is seen through the treetops
A small window on an upper floor
It’s late
Someone must be reading
Or can’t sleep
Perhaps an attendant is there
 
The building looms in the dark
Like a castle
Sitting on a hill
Stone
Stories tall and a block long
But that one small window … there’s a light on
 
I imagine a castle keep
A safe place, caring, secure
Or a tower
A prisoner’s room, lonely, confined
Possibly either or both
Only the occupant knows on a particular day
 
Maybe that’s my room someday
In that old nursing home on the hill
How will I see things?
Filled with hope and gratitude or despair?
Grace-filled or having been forsaken?
In peaceful surrender or stubborn resistance?
 
That light, that window
So peaceful looking
Against that immense silhouette
Light does that to darkness
Even the smallest glow
Brings reflection, imaginings, questions
 

© 2012 Thomas W. Cummins

Morning Run Under the Blossoms

April 4, 2012
 
 
Morning Run Under the Blossoms
  
Pink against rough gray concrete
Pale, delicate
Pristine and undisturbed
Petals – strewn in a graceful arc
Preparing the way
Providing a pattern, a prelude to
 
Shade’s coolness
Soothing, scarce, often fleeting
Such welcome respite from
Saint Louis sun
Sensing winter’s pallor
Soaking in as though invited
 
© 2012 Thomas W. Cummins