Poetry

Poetry is a delicious art of blending words into a meal that feeds the senses and the soul.  There is no need for poetry in the world in a practical sense, yet there is a need for words that can touch us, make us feel, make us laugh, make us ponder, open our hearts, and feed our souls.

I fell in love with poetry even as a child, reading delightedly the poems in "A Child's Garden of Verse".  I wrote my first poem in first grade, and never stopped.  In the 1960s, the great radio disc jockey Dick Summer used to read poetry on his program, and I was hooked for life.  I'll never forget the magic I felt as I heard him, late at night, read Alfred Noyes' "The Highwayman".  There in my little room in a small town, I was transported to another time and place, and the words made me see that ribbon of highway over the purple moor as clearly as the purple-painted walls of my little room.

As a wide-eyed first year college student, I could imagine no other major I wanted more than Creative Writing.  So I obtained my dual degree in Creative Writing and English Literature.  Although I have not become a well-known, widely published poet, being drawn to other paths and other manners of making a living, I still write my "Muse-ings" in poetic form.  Some of my poetry is included here.

My favorite poets include the Romantics and the confessional poets, among others.  From Shakespeare to Sylvia Plath, John Donne to Diane Wakoski, and Percy Shelley to Allen Ginsberg, poetry has opened up the world for me.  Whether it's Emily Dickinson writing her observations of the natural world from her window in Massachusettes, or Matthew Arnold looking up at the stars from Dover Beach, poetry can dissolve time and space to allow one a glimpse of the Divine.

Below are a few of my poems.
 

Ships that do not Sink
Does each human interaction in our lives matter, no matter how brief it may be?  Is each moment of love an eternity in and of itself?

Do Something
Even if we fail, to do nothing out of fear is to refuse to live.

Charred Black
I worked for a rabbi for a couple of years in the 1980s.  One day, burglars broke into the building, which served as both a church and a temple.  He/they stole whatever cash was to be found, and then set fire to the temple office, during the High Holy Days.  I will never forget the terrible stench of smoke and the partially burned books.

Cyber Poem
On a local bulletin board several years ago, in a poetry section, I posted this spontaneously written poem.  It has not been edited, as befits its spontaneous genesis.

Ripping up the Carpet
There is power in confronting the past and looking to the future.

Depression Poem #497
I've written a number of depressing poems, only one of which is represented here, so as not to depress my readers :-)  I think this one captures the feeling of being in the grips of this terrible malady.

Elegy for Diana
I am not a "royals watcher".  Yet somehow, the death of Princess Diana hit me hard.  This is a poem in honor of her and her spirit.

Whoever Loves the Least of Mine
Bast (or Bastet) is the Goddess of Cats in Egyptian mythology.  I believe She spoke to me one night with this phrase as I worried about all of Her homeless children outside in the cold winter.

Living in the Past
George Santayana said that those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.  We are our pasts in each moment of time.

The Best Years of Your Life
Hold on to that passion of youth, and recall it as you move through the passage of time.
 

A wonderful quote about poetry in .wav format from the Robin Williams movie "Dead Poets' Society":
 

On Poetry
 

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