It was the wind
Like the crack of a whip -
The kind that goes right through -
It was the old sunlight I knew,
Angled low on stone -
It was the long bright vista
Streets had become.
My soul's writ large
In wintry things -
I love the wind - its howl and roar -
The lash and toss of trees
As if they would uproot themselves
And fly from languid fixity -
The upsurge of every planted entity,
The whirl and flight of leaf and twig -
The light beyond the sandstorm.
That stormday in Teveth
I came alive. I marveled
How long it was that I had been
Winter-deprived.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
"Girl on Bus - Jerusalem"
A girl got on the bus today
Who reminded me of
My friend Elaine in our youth -
The same sharp Modigliani nose,
The heavy hair piled high,
The serious eyes.
If I mention her worn grey coat,
Her purple scarf, her brown boots -
It's only because I found myself
Taking in everything about her.
I tried to be discreet
But she had a shy awareness
Of being looked at, so I feigned
Interest in the rain-soaked sky,
The familiar bus route going by.
She was tall and could have been
Imposing - but she looked vulnerable -
Her dark eyes wandering from this to that
Having nothing but a black umbrella
In her lap.
When she got up to leave
I suddenly wanted to tell her
She was beautiful, but my words
Couldn't find their moment,
So I sent them flying out the bus,
Not wanting the streets to swallow her -
Not wanting to let her go
Without some kind of blessing.
Who reminded me of
My friend Elaine in our youth -
The same sharp Modigliani nose,
The heavy hair piled high,
The serious eyes.
If I mention her worn grey coat,
Her purple scarf, her brown boots -
It's only because I found myself
Taking in everything about her.
I tried to be discreet
But she had a shy awareness
Of being looked at, so I feigned
Interest in the rain-soaked sky,
The familiar bus route going by.
She was tall and could have been
Imposing - but she looked vulnerable -
Her dark eyes wandering from this to that
Having nothing but a black umbrella
In her lap.
When she got up to leave
I suddenly wanted to tell her
She was beautiful, but my words
Couldn't find their moment,
So I sent them flying out the bus,
Not wanting the streets to swallow her -
Not wanting to let her go
Without some kind of blessing.
-Down and Out in Phila.
"Ain't no way
I'm gonna love what is
When what is adds up
To what ain't.
I got my rent to pay
And on top of that
They're tearing down
The project in a month -
So I could be without a roof.
I ain't even got a decent suit
For the job search -
And I'm twenty-six, man! -
Give me a break -
Sure I believe - I believe
But some folks got dealt
A hard hand - a hard hand.
I'm not complaining -
Just laying my cards on the table.
You say the world's gonna be
A beautiful place - no more hunger -
No more war - count me in, man,
Count me in - but I ain't seen it yet.
It's like saying I shouldn't sing the blues
If the Phillies lose the world series
Because good things are on the way -
If they lose, I got a cold sky, a cold sky
Over my head for weeks -
But count me in, man -
I ain't complaining - just
Telling it like it is."
I'm gonna love what is
When what is adds up
To what ain't.
I got my rent to pay
And on top of that
They're tearing down
The project in a month -
So I could be without a roof.
I ain't even got a decent suit
For the job search -
And I'm twenty-six, man! -
Give me a break -
Sure I believe - I believe
But some folks got dealt
A hard hand - a hard hand.
I'm not complaining -
Just laying my cards on the table.
You say the world's gonna be
A beautiful place - no more hunger -
No more war - count me in, man,
Count me in - but I ain't seen it yet.
It's like saying I shouldn't sing the blues
If the Phillies lose the world series
Because good things are on the way -
If they lose, I got a cold sky, a cold sky
Over my head for weeks -
But count me in, man -
I ain't complaining - just
Telling it like it is."
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
The Long-Expected Gift
When you were young
And the ocean was young
You called out my name
In Atlantic City -
And I came running to you
Over the sand -
"Coming , Mommy, coming..."
The little girl you always wanted
With the name you always dreamed of.
High school in West Phila. -
Friends, piano lessons -
Those fun-filled years -
Forever, Mommy, you are smiling
That "million dollar smile"
From your yearbook - with your dream
Tucked away in your heart.
You were happy at work
In the family business -
Good-natured secretaries,
Trips to the post-office-
Talk, talk of who will marry who -
Until the moment you met
The one who famously said:
"See that girl, Har? - I'm gonna
Marry her one day."
Then expectation, joy -
And a question: What if it's a boy?
No matter - as long as he's healthy -
Mazel tov, mazel tov!
It's a girl! Eight pounds
Twelve and a half ounces -
She has no hair, a tiny nose,
Adorable... she looks like...
And you held in your arms
Your long-held dream -
Your Diane.
And the ocean was young
You called out my name
In Atlantic City -
And I came running to you
Over the sand -
"Coming , Mommy, coming..."
The little girl you always wanted
With the name you always dreamed of.
High school in West Phila. -
Friends, piano lessons -
Those fun-filled years -
Forever, Mommy, you are smiling
That "million dollar smile"
From your yearbook - with your dream
Tucked away in your heart.
You were happy at work
In the family business -
Good-natured secretaries,
Trips to the post-office-
Talk, talk of who will marry who -
Until the moment you met
The one who famously said:
"See that girl, Har? - I'm gonna
Marry her one day."
Then expectation, joy -
And a question: What if it's a boy?
No matter - as long as he's healthy -
Mazel tov, mazel tov!
It's a girl! Eight pounds
Twelve and a half ounces -
She has no hair, a tiny nose,
Adorable... she looks like...
And you held in your arms
Your long-held dream -
Your Diane.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
My father's English birthday
No sky is big enough
No sky wide enough
No sky high enough
None is blue enough -
To contain the faithfulness
Of my beloved Tatie -
I tip my whole being to you,
My Tatie, on this day -
Your English birthday -
February 1, 2010
No sky wide enough
No sky high enough
None is blue enough -
To contain the faithfulness
Of my beloved Tatie -
I tip my whole being to you,
My Tatie, on this day -
Your English birthday -
February 1, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Long Distance Runner - 5770
The poems that follow were inspired by assignments given in a creative writing workshop.
Winter - summer
Makes no difference -
She takes to the streets
A deer in the city -
She's a natural on her feet.
Lopes the paved hills
In measured strides -
Lets the world and its traffic
Pass her by - Nothing, not a thing
Daunts her. She's self-driven.
She stops at the light and runs in place -
Keeps her eyes on the road ahead -
From her head to her feet
She knows where she's going.
As for me, I'm out to sail over record lines,
Each day a little further -
I'm out to be a long distance runner
Of my own this year.
Winter - summer
Makes no difference -
She takes to the streets
A deer in the city -
She's a natural on her feet.
Lopes the paved hills
In measured strides -
Lets the world and its traffic
Pass her by - Nothing, not a thing
Daunts her. She's self-driven.
She stops at the light and runs in place -
Keeps her eyes on the road ahead -
From her head to her feet
She knows where she's going.
As for me, I'm out to sail over record lines,
Each day a little further -
I'm out to be a long distance runner
Of my own this year.
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