Image manipulated by author
With bucket of water, squeegee and rag,
Performing menial chore I abhor.
For it will always make my spirits sag,
Daily cleaning of the stately glass door.
Fully covered with finger prints galore.
Strange as it be that it has no push bar,
Makes me hate this nasty door even more.
Without a key lock makes it more bizarre.
Limitless numbers who come but can’t pass.
Is this door’s only purpose to harass?
Or clearly an obstruction made of glass,
To ensure creation of an impasse?
Now clearly understanding took an axe,
Gave the mighty wall of glass forty whacks.
Falkenstein Castle, Christian Jank (1883)
Castle in the Air, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Shall we build a grand castle in the air?
So great in its stature none can compare,
People will soon come from most everywhere,
In amazement will give a wondrous stare.
The architect plans are finally here,
After perusal not really clear.
What are you thinking that we do my dear?
Be brazen and continue without fear?
Builder says won’t quit until job is done,
Not too sure about the cost overrun.
It’s been two months and job has not begun,
Think the money has headed for the sun.
I’m thinking the house we have is just fine,
Let me pour you another glass of wine.
Seated Man with a Cane, Amedo Modigliani (1918)
The Witness, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
O where should I, my story to begin?
Of a distant place, I have never been?
Or bless me Father, for I am with sin?
Obvious, I wear not a silly grin?
Not knowing if I qualify for hell,
As not sure of all details very well.
If fully explained, may cause a ground swell.
Seeking no harm, better that I don’t tell.
If all be told, some will surely be hurt.
Confused, but the issue I will not skirt.
Be duly patient with me, don’t be curt.
If hastened, my story I will not blurt.
I being somewhat shaken, where was I?
O shall be still for ang’r is in your eye.
Alegoria Nadziei, Kazimierz Wojniakowski (1822)
Suffocation of Hope, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
All aimlessly talking with none to hear,
Laying baseless claims without any fear.
Willing to strike thy neighbor who is near,
No remorse not even a moral tear.
Brother to brother deeply divided.
The heart of many by cancer blighted.
Shortly hypocrisy to be knighted.
Yield way to evil gleefully boasted.
There must be a way of turning the tide.
Those chose to shepherd did nothing but lied,
Not to be found for in darkness they hide,
Yet asking their sheep by rules to abide.
Courage fell coming down perilous slope,
Is there a glint of light to give us hope?
Landscape, Eugene Delacroix (c.1850)
Sand, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Standing looking at an ocean of sand.
From where standing it looks sterile and bland.
Kneeling down with it under my command,
Scooping up countless grains of it in hand.
With rhythm between each hand the sand is panned,
As if ruthless authoritarian.
Some grains lifelessly fell back to the land,
Was not intended to have them disband.
Examination not as I had planned.
Those still held is it likely to remand?
Better to be humanitarian,
To couch inside a feeling that is grand.
Now standing beginning to understand,
For each grain of sand this is their homeland.
Charity, Williiam-Adolphe Bouguereau (1865)
Charity, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Here she sits on the steps of misery,
With left hand out she seeks not our pity,
Nor does she show signs of being angry,
Then why is it she makes this drastic plea.
The children show no signs of violence,
She has no marks upon her solemn face,
Serious doubt to be public nuisance.
What is her plight she seeks us to erase?
Shall we stop, ask what is her condition?
What horrid fear is it to grieve her so?
Will you give the time to take some action?
Or just give a coin and tell her to go?
Are we so calloused so as not to care?
Or being polite avoiding to stare?
Bombardment of Fort Sumter, Currier and Ives (n.d.)
Departure of Sagacity, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Where have you gone needed Sagacity?
Our walls now tumble, roads in anger heave,
Leaders’ best off’r is their duplicity.
What was the conundrum that made you leave?
Things should not be the way they were before,
Too much was hidden behind closet door.
Need new roads built for searchers to explore.
Restore rugged walls at our freedom’s core.
If here would you so proudly take a knee?
Or wipe your dirty feet on Old Glory?
Is there not so much more to what we see?
What is at fault for all this misery?
In the mirror we all should take a look,
And reevaluate the paths we took.