Category Archives: poetry

It Shouldn’t Be Necessary

The Jewish Book Carnival for August is up, hosted by Ann D. Koffsy, with many links for you to browse. DO stop by.

I have been lax in blogging, lately. There has been so much happening, worldwide, in my own life, and in the life of a dear friend, that I didn’t feel the motivation to write a post.

Tuesday’s news regarding James Wright Foley, crushed me. It is appalling, unfathomable, and heartbreaking on so many levels. The family statement is a beautiful tribute, yet through all of the anxiety they have been dealing with for several years, how can they overcome this? How?

When I heard the news, I immediately thought of Daniel Pearl, and his family. I pass by the Daniel Pearl Magnet School a couple of times a week, and each time I do, I pray for him and his family. Now, when I drive by, I will include James Wright Foley in my prayers.

It shouldn’t be necessary…

Here is a statement from Ruth Pearl, mother of Daniel Pearl: “Our hearts go out to the family of journalist James Foley. We know the horror they are going through.” Ruth Pearl – Daniel Pearl Foundation

It shouldn’t be necessary…

The world has turned against itself, it seems. Even within America, due to the events in Ferguson, the anger is prevalent and fueled with discord, and lack of harmony. Fighting, looting, bullying, and defiance are not, in any sense, the answer.

I abhor the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. There doesn’t seem to be any end in sight. My people are being held responsible for inflicting harm, yet, no responsibility seems to be called for regarding Palestine’s involvement. Many in the world see some of the events through lenses of cultural preference and/or religious foundations, and not through realistic actions that have been taken.

MH17 with all of its passengers and crew being shot down is a deplorable act, and one that is unimaginable. The families left behind…how do individuals go on from an act of this proportion!?

It shouldn’t be necessary…

So much discord, so many deplorable acts, so much horror is occurring. At times, I stay away from the news, yet, I return, because I want to keep up with current events. It is a lose-lose situation.

I turn towards my photography, towards hiking, towards writing and towards listening to ethnic music. It helps for a short while…

gazebo4

The Gazebo

The gazebo
is a harbor of reflection
of today’s issues
on the days past
the days ahead
on nature’s beauty
roses, petunias lavender
dogwood trees, weeping willows
a place of retreat
to nourish the body
sip a cup of tea
from a floral china cup
bite from a scone
infuse the soul
with quietude and calm
-LM

Shalom…

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Fortunate Versus Unfortunate

lake calmness

I found this poem on Rabbi Aaron Bergman’s Site. It struck a chord with me. The analogies of those who are loved, nurtured and cared for, as opposed to those who live from moment to moment without necessary substance, left my heart feeling heavy. The prose speaks volumes regarding the fortunate versus the unfortunate children, babes, innocents, within the globe of humanity.

With everything that is occurring worldwide, I thought it a compelling reminder to remember all the world’s children in your prayers, tonight, and every night.

“We Pray for Children” by Ina Hughes

We pray for children
Who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
Who like to be tickled,
Who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants,
Who sneak Popsicles before supper,
Who erase holes in math workbooks,
Who can never find their shoes.

And we pray for those
Who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
Who can’t bound down the street in new sneakers,
Who never “counted potatoes,”
Who are born in places we wouldn’t be caught dead in,
Who never go to the circus,
Who live in an X-rated world.

We pray for children
Who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
Who sleep with the cat and bury goldfish,
Who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
Who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
Who slurp their soup.

And we pray for those
Who never get dessert,
Who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
Who can’t find any bread to steal,
Who don’t have any rooms to clean up,
Whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,
Whose monsters are real.

We pray for children
Who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
Who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
Who like ghost stories,
Who shove dirty clothes under the bed,
Who get visits from the tooth fairy,
Who don’t like to be kissed in front of the car pool,
Who squirm in church and scream on the phone,
Whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.

And we pray for those
Whose nightmares come in the daytime,
Who will eat anything,
Who have never seen a dentist,
Who are never spoiled by anyone,
Who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
Who live and move, but have no being.

We pray for children
Who want to be carried
And for those who must,
For those we never give up on
And for those who never get a second chance,
For those we smother.
And for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind
enough to offer it.

We pray for children. Amen.

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Sunday Scenes: February 2, 2014

Today, in the U.S., it is Groundhog Day! The groundhog saw its shadow, therefore we will have six additional weeks of winter.

For those who want to learn more about this tradition, visit here.

boulders and the sea

The sea is a feast for the eyes
as one beholds the garden of glory before us.
From boulders of black, tan, grey and brown
to mold and fungus vegetation, to bright wildflowers
the illumination of colors, textures and tones
brings immeasurable delight to the senses.

One can daydream the minutes and hours away
wrapped in a cocoon of nature’s brilliance,
in awe of the wondrous visuals before us.
-REM

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Sunday Scenes – January 12, 2014

afterflow

The Lake Isle Of Innisfree

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

-William Butler Yeats

Jewish American Poetry and Poet Links:

The Bloomsbury Anthology of Contemporary Jewish American Poetry

Jewish American Poetry: Poems, Commentary, and Reflections

American Jewish Women Poets (Series)

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Sunday Scenes – October 6, 2013

orangewithin green

Autumn/fall is in the air! I love the cooler weather, although in CA, it is not always cooler in the autumn/fall season. The mornings are cooler and so are the evenings, but the daytime hours can be warm.

That is why, when I walk, I do it in the morning. It gives me the opportunity to feel the coolness against my face, and to breath in fresher air.

barn in autumn

I enjoy reading Grace Paley’s poem, shown below. It brings to mind so many issues, including immigration, assimilation, ancestors, and family bonds. I hope you enjoy it too.

Autumn
By Grace Paley
1

What is sometimes called a
tongue of flame
or an arm extended burning
is only the long
red and orange branch of
a green maple
in early September reaching
into the greenest field
out of the green woods at the
edge of which the birch trees
appear a little tattered tired
of sustaining delicacy
all through the hot summer re-
minding everyone (in
our family) of a Russian
song a story
by Chekhov or my father

2

What is sometimes called a
tongue of flame
or an arm extended burning
is only the long
red and orange branch of
a green maple
in early September reaching
into the greenest field
out of the green woods at the
edge of which the birch trees
appear a little tattered tired
of sustaining delicacy
all through the hot summer re-
minding everyone (in
our family) of a Russian
song a story by
Chekhov or my father on
his own lawn standing
beside his own wood in
the United States of
America saying (in Russian)
this birch is a lovely
tree but among the others
somehow superficial

autumntrees

October 6, 2013 – 2 Cheshvan, 5774

Ⓒ All rights reserved © Copyright 2007 – 2013 – All Rights Reserved – No permission is given or allowed to reuse my photography, book reviews, writings, or my poetry in any form/format without my express written consent/permission.

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Sea Cliffs in Summer

beach cliffs

The woman in the cliff overview photo above is my sister-in-law. My fingers continually snapped the scene in front of me, and when I downloaded the photographs to my computer, saw her in this capture.

I can not describe the beauty that my eyes viewed. There were breath-taking scenes that left me in emotional awe. Nature’s beauty illuminated everywhere I turned, everywhere I looked.

The sea speaks to me in ways I can not articulate. Having been brought up three blocks from the Long Island Sound for the first 24 years of my life, having grandparents whose dwelling overlooked the Amalfi Coast, and having spent many summer days at Brighton Beach, Jones Beach and Coney Island, the sea is part of who I am, as it flows through my blood.

The Sea-Cliffs of Kilkee

AWFULLY beautiful art thou, O sea!
Viewed from the vantage of these giant rocks
That vast in air lift their primeval blocks,
Screening the sandy cove of lone Kilkee.
Cautious, with outstretched arm and bended knee,
I scan the dread abyss, till the depth mocks
My straining eyeballs, and the eternal shocks
Of billows rolling from infinity
Disturb my brain. Hark! the shrill sea-bird’s scream!
Cloud-like they sweep the long wave’s sapphire gleam,
Ere the poised osprey stoop in wrath from high.
Here man, alone, is naught; Nature supreme,
Where all is simply great that meets the eye,—
The precipice, the ocean, and the sky.

-Sir Aubrey de Vere

© Copyright 2007 – 2013 – All Rights Reserved – No permission is given or allowed to reuse my photography, book reviews, writings, or my poetry in any form/format without my express written consent/permission.

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