“Autumn Coming”

Well, it is.  Finally. 

Here in the south, we try to disappear during the months of July – August, try to find cool cover from the high temps. This year was unusual. Oh, we had hot weather enough, but August has come in as a surprise.  This is the month most dreaded, yet  the temps have not really risen above the mid 80’s for a couple of weeks. Morning lows are in the mid 60’s and that is rather unusual.  Perhaps we will have a ‘normal’ winter?

I broke my left wrist July 4th, and I am still recovering.  Typing has been just about impossible, but this morning I awoke with at least the title of a new poem-to-be:  “Hollow Eyes”.  Whether the rest of the words follow the title will remain to be seen. This lagging pain has stopped any poetic creativity for a while now.

I have a dear friend in India, Dr. RK Singh, who has not been feeling  well.  He is a famous poet, with many books and critical articles to his name. In my whinning to him about my own ‘lack o’ poetry’, he said the same thing.  Right now he didn’t feel moved to write poetry, and in the same email, he sent a wonderful, biting poem, that belied his condition.

And that is the way, I think, of poets.  This down time has forced me to read poets that I should have read before, or at least read them with more resolve.  Auden, Stevens, Pound, Marianne Moore, etc….and the Big Book of Poetry….”American Poets From The Puritans To the Present”….by H. Waggoner.  I can’t say I like them all, but it’s important reading, and reading something about their lives, I can see that some measure of pain brings forth some of their poetry.

I already know that “Hollow Eyes” will be about the darker side of humanity: about a black man running down the street in an Atlanta neighborhood, shooting at houses; about a ‘religious’ Jew who hates most of humanity and turned to sadism and depravity; about a relative who just hates. These people or events are all within my experience and I struggled to put a ‘face’ on this kind of violence.  The best I can do I think, is to see down into their hollow eyes and  perhaps see why they are so twisted.  Perhaps by seeing into that darkness, I can see through to some light of ‘understanding’.  Remains to be seen.

Lady Nyo

 

Autumn Coming

 

Bullfrogs bellow a different pitch

Autumn’s fast approaching.

And though they soak in a rocky pond

Summer’s heat they can’t escape.

 

Full moon reflects in half-sunk eyes

Perhaps fish mistake the moons of Mars

And in their algaed depth by night

They travel the cosmos past the stars.

–

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2012

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