Poetry Partners #36 A Pythagorean poem by davidatqcm of 'The Hobart Chinaman' We hear their news They'll be transported to parenthood Life starts again in utero, for millennia t'was always so, but now from test tubes small cells grow. davidatqcm: https://thehobartchinaman.wordpress.com/ A Fibonacci poem by ben Alexander of ‘The Skeptic’s Kaddish’ The worst... By far,… Continue reading Generations, or: Generation
Papa's fingers Papa was supposed to visit us in August of 2018, but his unexpected death came that July, just before his intended visit to Israel. I last saw him in person in the summer of 2017. One of the last memories I have of Papa is him showing me his right hand. He bent… Continue reading The case of the stiff fingers
In memory of Papa My 1st ghazal I remember his toolboxes, table vice, hand sander Still remember foul humor, impatience, frank candor I remember clever math tricks and right-wing politics And sultry actresses at whom he would gander I remember him sitting, reading, problem solving Frustrated, resigned, when his mind would meander I remember long… Continue reading David, or: ben Alexander
EPIGRAPH: In the end, we'll all become stories.-Margaret Atwood (b. 1939) my every verse my every line my every word: death is only the beginning of countless stories; life, reality's only limitation, albeit a foggy one, but death, a veritable wellspring of stories to tell around the table impart to our children to fool ourselves… Continue reading Poems, poems, poems, or:
Freezing at night, thawing during the day, enough to, well , I don't know, don't know, don't know , but the pressure changes were something awful, causing the tears to flow up through my trunk , into my limbs and throat so , , well,,, , I bought a stainless steel spile and brand new… Continue reading No more tears, or: (Enough is enough)
A concrete poem better viewed on blog (not WP reader) there you are stretching upwards and sideways squirming wriggling everywhere going nowhere even the walls are beyond you are trapped in a narrow cup going nowhere but down down down and out eventually but we do have a bit of time together, don't we? stay… Continue reading Together, or: Eventually
... my younger brother sensed that our father was not long for this world. He noted my father’s health problems... and the sadness in my father’s eyes. He noted my father’s fatalistic daily behaviors and approach to life...-Me, 'The Skeptic's Kaddish' #6, Sept. 14, 2018 I wrote the above in one of my earliest posts… Continue reading How much suffering would I endure?
As much as I have been cranking out poetry recently and will probably continue to do so for the foreseeable future, I can never put my grief over my Papa's death out of my mind. That was the catalyst for this blog, which began with my Skeptic's Kaddish series, written during my first year of… Continue reading Personal growth through others’ stories