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Jewish Journal

Tag: Poetry

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  • Poem: My first theology lesson

    1 week ago

    Rumpled and furious, my grandfather’s friend

    stood up in a bookstore on the North Side

    and lamented the lost Jews of Poland

     

    and declared that he felt sorry for God

    who had so many problems with Justice

    and had become disillusioned and sad

     

    since He wanted to...

  • Poem: How to Resist Temptation

    3 weeks ago

    Read the notes from the morning’s class

    on the Sota

    on the winds of folly

    that blow through the secret place

    where God is asked to vacate

    and no witness sees.

    Don’t mention it to a soul.

    Try to imagine the ink in which all of His Names

    are erased

    and the...

  • Florida: Schoolboy on break

    August 27, 2014 | 11:12 am

    Eager to make a catch, any catch he can,

    he grips the rod and sets eye on the bobber;

    imagining the strike, he wants to reel it in

    to see what’s lurking in the water.

    The intracoastal avenue is calm

    until bridge jaws open to let a tall mast pass;

    he loves the clap of...

  • Lost photograph of Trotsky, from the family album

    August 20, 2014 | 12:30 pm

    In that snapshot of Leon with Great-Uncle So-and-So, they’re slouching

    somewhere equatorial, two Jews exiled in direct sunlight. To the right:

    a cactus, which reminds them it’s thirsty this work — to stand for the

    workers. To the left: some sand as if to say Keep Walking. My...

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  • Poem: A Theory’s Evolution

    August 13, 2014 | 12:30 pm

    The Theory of Flawed Design is not a scientifically proven

    Alternative to evolution. It is based on the everyday life

    Experience that natural selection could not have produced

    Such a catastrophic outcome. Optimists and the religiously

    Inclined will naturally prefer...

  • Poem: After

    August 6, 2014 | 12:59 pm

    After a loss you live

    with your gasp, your gaze,

    with your hungry mouth as you lift the fork.

    Something Sane. Open the door.

    A guest sits down at the kitchen table.

    Washing evening dishes:

    something simple, something sane.

    Water dreams over your wrist,

    your hand, a...

  • Wish you were here you are

    July 30, 2014 | 12:51 pm

    time isn’t the same for everyone there is

    science behind this when you fly into space

    you’re not experiencing time at the same rate

    as someone tethered to Earth & someone

    moving quickly experiences time at a slower rate

    even on Earth so as I run through Central Park

    at...

  • “While God Weeps”

    By Rabbi Joshua Levine Grater

    July 30, 2014 | 11:47 am

    While God Weeps,

    The children of Abraham continue to slaughter one another,

    As it was before, so it is now, hatred and mistrust fogging our ability to see the humanity in one another.  Palestinians unable to see the humanity in Isaac, Israelis unable to see the humanity in...

  • Poem: Jewish Dream #18

    July 23, 2014 | 3:23 pm

    The dream is not so simple — learn what is between

    your mouth & God’s ear, feel holy when the ark opens,

    know the history of suffering, when it will suffice,

    how to chant like the sea breaking against rocky shores,

    know all about absence, that a good dish is the experience

    ...
  • Peace Peace: A Prayer During War

    July 18, 2014 | 12:06 pm

    Rachel is crying for her children


    She refuses to be comforted


    From beyond the grave she cries


    Through the centuries


    Her tears flow


    Hagar cries too


    From beyond the grave
  

    Their tears intermingle


    The tears of the mothers


    Grieving over dead sons and...

  • The end of an era

    June 19, 2014 | 2:46 pm

    When I first came to Friday Night Live
    I didn’t know if I’d ever been in a Jewish room so big.

    It was like they took the entire outside, put up walls on the very edges,
    added comfortable seating and painted the sky to look like a ceiling.

    I remember the sign I saw before I...

  • Poem: This Passover

    April 9, 2014 | 1:32 pm

    This Passover maybe we can liberate ourselves
    from holding onto what happened
    We don’t have to subscribe
    To Be Here Now but we can try
    letting go of all that happened
    that gets in the way
    of how pink Egypt is how much
    we loved one another before
    life intervened. This...

  • Poem: To my children

    March 5, 2014 | 11:41 am

    Instead of using the staircase,

    risk the tendrilled stalks of ivy

    and drop into the muddy copse below.

    Your great grandfathers understood mud

    as they slogged from village to village

    peddling pots and ribbons and scissors.

    They knew days with no light, nights

    with no...

  • Poem: Sigh in Silence

    January 31, 2014 | 10:54 am

    Ezekiel 24:17

    said the Lord, this sigh indiscernible,
    although the si- contained is louder than
    the second fiddle, second syllable
    that ebbs into its chopped-off sibilance.
    The first one lasts awhile, the way we wish
    that pleasure would endure, the vowel long.
    It’s hard to...

  • Poem: Isaac Bashevis Singer in the Reading Room, 1968

    December 12, 2013 | 12:59 pm

    This old man in the armchair’s plush embrace
    waits for his thoughts to settle. He is not
    my grandfather despite the wrinkled face,
    gleaming skull, vast snout, gargly voice, and odd
    twist of lips. They sound like men from the same
    village in an old country bordering
    on nowhere...

  • One Israeli creation for the weekend

    By Noga Gur-Arieh

    November 22, 2013 | 12:43 pm

    Naomi Young is a poet and an artist, currently living in Los Angeles, but was born and raised in Jerusalem, Israel. Drawn from an early age to the art and surrounded by the beauty of the city, Young was captivated and often wanted to capture her feelings through her art and poetry....

  • My daughter was born on my mother’s Yahrzeit

    November 20, 2013 | 3:47 pm

    All morning I thought of my mother,
    how often we waited for her to die
    and then the affront of it

    when she finally did, as if it were
    up to her family to tell her
    when she could let go,

    as if by holding her tired fingers
    we could drag her forcibly back
    to this life, when...

  • Discourse on the crippled God

    October 30, 2013 | 12:51 pm

    A man swings through the open doors on crutches,
    his long arms thick with muscle like the Christ
    whose marble shoulders shouldering the cross
    are sculpted mighty as Odysseus’s.
    Before he crosses forehead, heart and chest,
    the cripple leans one crutch against the wall
    and dips...

  • Poem: In the same key (Chayyei Sarah)

    October 23, 2013 | 11:32 am

    They come together to bury their father
    in the cave where Sarah’s body lies.

    (No one imagines the vaulted church
    -turned-mosque with painted ceilings

    or the synagogue, or metal detectors
    to keep armed men from getting through.)

    Isaac and Ishmael wash him with water
    and...

  • Poem: Alphabets

    October 16, 2013 | 1:33 pm

    I have always believed in the alchemy of letters 
                                      but never in their permanence.
           
    Just look how the aleph was stripped of its
    rightly earned place to begin the Torah
                                      how the bet is sheltered —
    but only...

  • Poem: Mold

    October 3, 2013 | 4:53 pm

    When Noah prayed
    You sent him a flood
    and charged him with the safety
    of all animal life.

    What I got was rain.
    I forgot to wash my shirt
    so it grew mold.

    In every generation
    the holy men we have
    stand on different levels.
    We all get the hero
    we deserve.

    On behalf of mold
    — and on behalf of my wife,
    who loves when I do laundry —
    I will try
    to be worthy.

  • Cracking the Sky

    September 11, 2013 | 4:23 pm

    It’s time to talk about grief
    as if the mere mention could
    crack the sky leaving the stars
    to break through shattering
    afternoon’s complacency.
    As if at a preordained hour
    all the lovers of the world
    will stand still, like the minute
    of remembrance for the dead,
    then turn...

  • Psalm

    August 28, 2013 | 11:06 am

    like a skin on milk
    I write to you
    I hurl the letters of your name
    onto every page, one and many
    I know you are reading over my shoulder
    look each of us possesses a book of life
    each attempts to read what the other has scripted
    in these almost illegible letters tipped by...

  • Poem: Talking Jerusalem

    August 21, 2013 | 4:54 pm

    Yes, I hear talk
    as I walk the Old City
    from Jaffa Gate
    to Damascus Gate
    from Herod’s Gate
    to the Lions’ Gate
    from Zion Gate
    to the Dung Gate
    I hear talk about dividing
    Jerusalem from Jerusalem
    they’re at it again
    dividing again
    dividing the heart
    dividing the brain...

  • Return to the Stone of Losses

    August 14, 2013 | 1:54 pm

    for Rachel Tzivia Back, U. of Minnesota Symposium
    on Jewish American Poetry, Feb. 17, 2013

    We stood as she instructed around the stone of losses,
    declared what we had found
    and waited for other Jews to claim it.

    Centuries inspected us: had we fallen
    out of their pockets?...

  • Let Me Thrum (6 a.m.)

    August 7, 2013 | 1:16 pm

    a new lay upon this lute for You 
    Let me hum the new day
    of loose strife and lily
    Let prayer plant and mallow
    Let heads and hearts let heels
    and thumbs feathers and fins
    and all things fleet and slug
    antennae’d and furred
    all sing all shirr all rub and buzz
    and fling their...

  • Grandchild

    August 1, 2013 | 10:09 am

    Elohai, neshama….

    I take her to the park, I swing her in the little swing
    Help her on the slide, lotion her face and arms against the sun
    She runs around in her little bluejeans

    The sun is getting higher, as it does every morning
    The game now is for me to chase her
    The...

  • The transportation of Hens

    July 17, 2013 | 12:05 pm

    ten at a time we carried them
    by their legs
    to cages on the truck

    where they grew silent
    in the darkness
    of an early market

    many hens
    suffocated
    during the collection

    as we reached for them
    they trampled each other to death
    I was one of the collectors
    in the morning...

  • After Life

    July 2, 2013 | 11:27 am

    Every time we mention the dead
    I feel their weight on the mattress
    indentations — never been flipped.

    My pores have forgotten the garlic.

    When you die before Americans
    learn to love sushi
    there is extra unfamiliarity
    in the afterlife.

    You have to get used to
    more than...

  • A poem by Emily Kagan Trenchard

    June 26, 2013 | 12:01 pm

    My Bubbie mumbles a Yiddish invective every time I mention

    getting some new item for the baby not yet born:

    the crib, a blanket, a book case.

    I can’t argue her out of the world she knows.

    There is no word in Yiddish for the small

    whooshing sound of a heartbeat on a...

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