“The Mother” by Gwendolyn Brooks: A Different Sort of Poetry Reading

I created the following poetry reading on an impulse. This poem speaks to me- I’m not sure why, but it does. The rawness of the anonymous mother who grieves her aborted babies echoes my own heart’s desperation, as I long for my miscarried little one.

Slave in Waiting… A Multimedia Poem by Toni L.A. Cross

  

She peers out of broken glass

Smeared with all that’s crude and crass

The glass is like her life

It cuts her with its knife

She is old and broken

Her pain pools unspoken

No way to escape

This endless rape

She peers out with shattered eyes

Heavy with tears she never cries

The tears are like the curtain of beads

Strung and hanging useless weeds

Tacky and in the way

Like the thought that she should pray

If God did care

She should see Him somewhere

Won’t He send someone

To undo what is done?

Does no one know

That she is here down below?

 

desert child: a multimedia experience

Please visit the poetry blog of Charles Martin, the reader of this poem at: www.slpmartin.wordpress.com

desert child
written by Toni L.A. Cross and read by Charles Martin

 
i’m just one
of a crowd
of
tourists
on a hot
and stuffy
bus
filing out
piling out
to buy trinkets
from
bedouin traders
 
amidst the sounds
of haggling prices
and dust
stirred up
by nike sneakers
and sandaled feet
 
a girl
not more than ten
ragged
oversized
clothes
but
luminous
brown eyes
 
she looks
no
stares
no
peers
deeply
into
the
depths
of my quivering soul
 
how can eyes
baby eyes
young eyes
bear the weight
of a thousand wrongs?
 
how can a face
so new
look
so very old
so horribly worn
so weary and tattered?
 
a sweaty mass
of designer jeans
and pricey cameras
lumped back
together
on the bus
 
chitter-chatter
look at this doo-dad
isn’t this
the darnedest thing?
little suzy
will love this
toy camel
aren’t their accents
just too quaint?
 
only i
am still haunted
into silence
by the gaze
of a child
and sobered
to my toes