Poems by Irene Kon, 91, who wants to be known as somebody who always stood by her principles.

Irene Kon

Tall girls

Ivory, black, red, white, brown

Taking long strides

on their way through town,

heads held high.

But who can read

their troubled hearts and

minds, or understand

the stiletto heels

or clumpy boots

upon their feet?

~~~~~

in the dark

velvet night

flickering fireflies

light up old memories

Fayville, Ma.

August 1973.

~~~~~

if the dear

enduring bonds

of friendship

snap

like a dry twig

the heart quails

~~~~~

~~~~~

When the day is done

troubles fade

with a sip of Sake

in a cup of jade

December 1998

for Joe Ryan

~~~~~

Are you an artist...

people do ask?

I modestly say, no,

but it isn't quite so

Poems? I've written a few...

done a drawing or two

installations of bones and stones,

flesh and root,

mysterious mélanges

to gladden the eye

and stir the juices...

but alas in this life

of panic and tears

with mute cries for help

loud in my ears, my

muse oft disappears

1998

~~~~~

your light touch

on my shoulder

firms the shaky

earth beneath

my feet...

for Sergio

September 1998

~~~~~

My aged heart -

grown cautious

from abuse -

I thought immune to joy.

But you...

poet-child with clear eye...

upset these calculations

and made the thought a lie

~~~~~

Empathy

I see them -

young women

yellow, brown, black

heads bent over a book

drawn from a back-pack

heavy as lead...

delving into the past

to chart their future.

I sigh knowing

the stops and

struggles ahead.

~~~~~

In my head

I carry my dead

see them everywhere -

shoulders hunched

against the cold

basking in the sun.

Radiant smiles

flowing tears...

I hear their voices

admonishing, teaching ...

Sometimes silly, so often wise.

Etched in silver

moments dear.

etched in acid

times of fear.

Only they live

each a part of me ...

as I pass on to others

their singularity

1999

~~~~~

Scientific Song

My ears accustom slowly

to the jet-scream of this age,

less to the carping die-hards

floundering on the receding

shores of the world they once knew.

aged men and women

clinging like limpets

to the rock of habit...

their pride hardened in ignorance

need new miracles to make

the nerveless leap;

Let us take them by the hand

on exhilarating flights

through moon-starved -

timeless space, where man

finding he is nothing -

becomes all-free to make

new paths of light on earth.

~~~~~

from me to you

In the stillness

of this morning's rising sun

I walked

across the green, green grass

glinting with dew.

Greeted by squirrels

pigeons and doves

I stood

under these trees where we now sit

pondering the mystery

of the highways & byways

that brought us all together

in this green space

on this day

"Oh happy me to be with you on my 90th birthday".