Modern Romance

**This was inspired by artwork by Sarah of SarahJaneProsetry and the song she included with it.**

Modern Romance

Modern romance

There is no such thing

Old or new

It stays the same

Only the function

The how and the why

Is updated


Reset buttons pushed

With meaty fingers

The mechanical drone



Modern lips still touch

In ancient kisses

Playing to an audience of one

Tears and sweat

Are still saline

Not silicon

Hands and eyes meet


In timelessness


Sound and Vision

**Sarah Jane of SarahJaneprosetry just posted an amazing poem yesterday inspired by a painting of mine called “Mary of Silence”.  I encourage everyone to go check it out by clicking the link above…This inspired me to write a poem of my own based on another of my paintings.**

Beethoven: Symphony No. 7 by David Eric Cummins

Sound and Vision

Lightning dances

Across the mind’s eye

Radiating energy

Illuminating vision

That sees beyond reality

To see the unseen

Sound and vision

Become one

Seeing music

Hearing light

For an instant

Day is night

And night is day

And color

Begins to speak

Letting Go

**This is in response to a challenge from Sarah Jane of SarahJaneprosetry to write a poem on the theme of “letting go”.**


I held a balloon

That took me higher

Ever higher

Took me places

I’d never imagined

And I learned

I learned who I was

And who I did not want to be


But the balloon

Needed to fly

Fly places I

Was not ready to go

So with a wistful smile

And a grateful heart

I let go

I let go

And found myself


Found that I

Was a balloon as well


Now we fly


But still close

Strings still intertwined

And though I no longer

Hold that balloon

I can look

I can see it

And I smile

As I watch it soar away

Through the bluest sky

No longer mine to hold

But forever mine

To remember

And to thank

For teaching me

To fly



The Lion leaps the God of War

As the Archer rises

To chase the Scorpion

And the Swan, the Eagle and the Lyre ride high

Signalling summer

And inviting me

To balmy nights beneath their light

The chaos of billions

Of balls of blazing gas

So far away

And the dance of our neighbors

In their cosmic waltz around the sun



In patterns

The stars and planets

Become my beautiful friends

Angels and Clowns

The female form

Is artistic perfection

It is beauty defined


Even you who say

“Ha! Not me!”

The female form

Is angelic


Sculpted by nature

To be an alluring work of art


The male form

Is laughable


Seemingly unfinished

Wet clay left unmolded

On the throwing wheel

The male form

Is not made for beauty

But for function

Tools where they can be easily accessed

Where the feminine form says

“Here is the harmony of nature”

The masculine form says

“Have gun, will travel”


Perhaps that is why sex

Can illicit both sighs of passion

And childish giggles


**Of course I realize, this is just my particular point of view, LOL 😉  **

A Candle in the Dark


Is a shroud

Worn by those

Who live in the grave

Envisioning the dirt

Being shoveled upon upturned faces

With downcast eyes



Is a candle in the dark

A sacred flame

Held onto for dear life

A beacon from the future

A warming light that says

“Come here”


To be an optimist

Is not to always be happy

It is staring into the darkness,

Even in the cruelest cell

Of frustration, pain, anger and sadness,

Holding up that candle

And knowing

It burns as long as I stand

No matter how black the night


Can not extinguish a flame

But the flame will always

Extinguish the darkness


Saturday Night Downtown

Street lights gleam


Off the onyx surface of the night

Their electric hum, a backdrop

For the low drone buzz

Of a Saturday night



I hear activity on the streets

Voices and cars

The clubs and bars

Slowly filling

Music pounding

Where all are searching

For something

Good times





Or some combination

In the dimly lit haze

Of cigarette smoke and perfume

And the drying dregs evaporating

From bottles and glasses


Seekers all

Just as I

I’ve found those things before

And I’m sure I will again

But not this night

This night, I will write

Ink and paper escapism

Wish the other seekers good luck

There’s a single Guinness in the fridge

And enough 12 year old single malt for a small glass

And words enough

To keep me up

‘Til last call