When years pass
and I don't write a letter
and I keep a necklace
in exchange for a dreidel
how do I write a poem
how do I write a poem
when I plan to send art supplies and don't
how do I write a poem
when a beret sits on my shelf
how do I write a poem
when I suspend my dedication
when we see other people
when I wear the necklace
when we sat on a seesaw
the impact of each landing
cushioned by rubber tires
and we searched for balance
in the garden dedicated to children
how do I write a poem
when a poem she sent
is on the wall that I see
when I stand facing East
and a note expresses
that she hopes that I find it
all right
when halva and half-eaten chocolate
wait in my cupboard
for me to get over my fear
and attend to them
how do I write a poem
it was such a dinky dreidel
drab yellow and plastic
although it was placed in my hand
by a professor with bold glasses
who is waiting with pride
for my first published collection
such a little dinky dreidel
stained drab green on the drab yellow
as if a vat of drab green dreidel stuff
had contaminated a vat of drab yellow dreidel
stuff
a dinky drab dreidel that compelled her
to remove the necklace from her neck
I brought here there
with a there dreidel
how do I write a poem
for a girl whose eyes
teach me what it means
when an author describes
someone's eyes
as liquid
liquid and smiling
dominating a face
whose lips smile
while drinking chocolate milk
out of a packet
through a tiny straw
whose eyes duck away
from a photograph
at a restaurant
in Jerusalem
whose cell phone alarm clock song
plays on my iPod
as I walk in Manhattan
to take me to a place
of calm and morning and waking up
how do I write a poem
when I should be singing the Song of the Sea
as she requested
the song sung by a little girl
in The Prince of Egypt
here hangs from my neck here
the here of there
the here of her
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Sticky
I'm sorry, subway traveler
trying hard not to fall over.
It was I who made the pole sticky.
The pomelo was so good, though--
Surely you understand.
- on a train to Washington Heights
with a nod to W.C.Williams
trying hard not to fall over.
It was I who made the pole sticky.
The pomelo was so good, though--
Surely you understand.
- on a train to Washington Heights
with a nod to W.C.Williams
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Привидение / Ghost
Привидение
У меня есть привидение.
Оно живёт за моей дверью
и только показывается
когда я одна.
У него тайна моего желания
и оно порхает надо мной
роняя листья бумаги
чтобы они тихо падали вокруг меня -
большие квадратные хлопья -
а я продолжаю
свою работу,
готовясь наконец-то
спать.
Ghost
I have a ghost.
It lives behind my door
and only shows itself
when I am alone.
It has the secret of my desire
and it flits above me
tearing up sheets of paper
so that they fall quietly around me -
big square flakes -
and I continue
my own work,
preparing eventually
to sleep.
- written Friday, March 12, 2010; translated into English Sunday, April 8, 2012
У меня есть привидение.
Оно живёт за моей дверью
и только показывается
когда я одна.
У него тайна моего желания
и оно порхает надо мной
роняя листья бумаги
чтобы они тихо падали вокруг меня -
большие квадратные хлопья -
а я продолжаю
свою работу,
готовясь наконец-то
спать.
Ghost
I have a ghost.
It lives behind my door
and only shows itself
when I am alone.
It has the secret of my desire
and it flits above me
tearing up sheets of paper
so that they fall quietly around me -
big square flakes -
and I continue
my own work,
preparing eventually
to sleep.
- written Friday, March 12, 2010; translated into English Sunday, April 8, 2012
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
My spurned ones
I stroke their backs
before I start speaking
dreading the distance
the distance that I
that I now will create
before I start speaking
dreading the distance
the distance that I
that I now will create
Labels:
Poems
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
The calm place
He takes my breath when he holds me in his eyes.
This room is not for us. We sense we are fidgeting.
Can I show you somewhere?
The trees shelter the bench where we will sit.
Let us go where the wind is, in the twilight.
Take my hand and lead me there.
We will arrive at the calm place.
There, when the time is right,
I will rest my head on your shoulder.
-at Hadar, as part of a class on Shir HaShirim taught by Alicia Ostriker. Parallel to Chapter 7:11-13
This room is not for us. We sense we are fidgeting.
Can I show you somewhere?
The trees shelter the bench where we will sit.
Let us go where the wind is, in the twilight.
Take my hand and lead me there.
We will arrive at the calm place.
There, when the time is right,
I will rest my head on your shoulder.
-at Hadar, as part of a class on Shir HaShirim taught by Alicia Ostriker. Parallel to Chapter 7:11-13
Sunday, March 18, 2012
שיר ליום השבת
Fall 2009
שיר ליום השבת
השמש רואה את הירח
סבא שלי רואה את סבתא שלי
הם רוקדים בלילה בגן
רגע אחד בארץ של תות גינה
אמא מספרת לי על השמש
אבא מספר לי על הירח
הם רוקדים בצהריים בבית
רגע אחד בארץ של תפוחים
אני מכירה את השמש
ידיד שלי מכיר את הירח
אנחנו רוקדים בבוקר בדרך
רגע אחד בארץ חלב ודבש
רגע אחד בירושלים
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