Buddy Cushman Art

engaging stories of hope and joy


2 Comments

These Here Thoughts Today

My father – Winston H. Cushman – died early in January 1980. In Arizona. He was 68 years old. During these succeeding 38 years this question has come to, or for, me every so often – Will I live longer than 68? Longer than my Dad? Or will that be my due date too? Today I have the answer.

Dictation_from_the_B_Cover_for_Kindle

 

It was 1949 in New Bedford, MA, when I came on the scene. Seven years later I rolled, part-way through the year, into second grade at the Pilgrim Elementary School in Wareham — my hometown. I have a poem about Allen Ginsberg and me and second grade in my first published book of poetry, “Minor Revelations”.

This one.

 

 

 

 

 

Second Grade

Massachusetts

Why wasn’t I reading Allen Ginsberg in 1956 when he was writing “America”

and I was in second grade,

Elementary, a pilgrim at Pilgrim?

Not yet reading Weekly Reader

Not yet swooning over Mary Linda

Not yet floating like a butterfly and stinging like a marshmallow

Out on recess playground

Not yet a Red Sox advocate (it’s coming) and sufferer (soon)

Not yet a political giant

Not yet crossing the race barrier

Not yet finding my howl

Not yet bunting magic bunts with my magic little league lumber

(there’s gold in them thar trees)

Not yet a bedroom boss, a bedroom baby,

a bedroom blue boy

Not yet so perpetually confused about the things I’m sure of.

I’m sure Allen would have helped,

Garden State fairy angel,

With all of my life’s poetry,

Held my metaphorical hand on endless walks with bigger daydreams

and a bigger heart.

Why’d I have to wait til now?

Massachusetts?

 

It’s a good question. About the waiting. My first sponsor — Dick M. — always told me, when I came to him moaning about this or that, he’d say, “You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”  I can’t say I always appreciated those words as an answer, but as I’ve aged I’ve come to believe more in possibilities. I guess I started getting A.G. and poetry in general when I was supposed to. Anyway, I turned 69 today and I’ve just published poetry book number two – “Dictation from the Backyard” — and I’ve managed to hang around a little longer than my Dad now, which feels more like obligation than anything else.

Expect poetry from me going forward.

bailey-popup

Advertisements