Paint Chip Poetry

 GOOD FORTUNE

Good fortune lies

Beyond this golden gate

If the past is bittersweet as tealeaves

The future is as fresh as new parchment, like an empty chalkboard, waiting

Something sweet as wild huckleberry

Lies beyond this mountain peak




ON THE ROAD

The air is still as baby’s breath

The rolling hills just a grass stain on the horizon

The sun’s rays rise like a spotlight on this mountain town

I'm an adventurer, out stalking a dragon

And I want no ruby slippers to bring me home




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poem 1 - "The Face of God"

The Face of God Avigayil Rosensweig "לְאָדָם מַעַרְכֵי-לֵב וּמֵה' מַעֲנֵה לָשׁוֹן" (משלי טז א) (Proverbs 16:1) I drew the face of God: Indeterminate ink lines Bleeding colors through white computer paper, My fingers small and clumsy, Markers scattered across the kitchen table Sticky with milk splashes and slick from a Then-recent spill of paint varnish, The table sunlit, the wallpaper curling at the edges, A drawing as formless as anything that can be said to have shape, As though I were trying to draw the wind Blowing over the face of a primordial world, Even at that age having somewhat internalized That Maimonidean principle of Divine incorporeality. My mother said it was beautiful, And my brother said, "Don't be silly. You can't draw a picture of Hashem." Once I asked my father The meaning of the ten sefiros in kaballah. "Theosophic emanations," he said. I said, "Oh." Another...
Read more

Poem 2 - "Birth Pangs"

Image
Birth Pangs Avigayil Rosensweig Would it have been better, if you had never been— Had you been stillborn, half-hoped phoenix that never rose from ashes so thick they choked the ground: charred bits of one one after another wooden synagogue I was not there to pace the corridors at your birth, but I remember the first time I gathered your infant self in my arms and felt your trembling vitality. They wrapped you in a blanket: blue and white, like a prayer shawl. I remember your profile, distant against the horizon: all scarlet plumage and gleaming talons, terrible and beautiful against the night sky, as distant as the celestial bodies which painted the heavens around your wings. Born of ashes, but incandescent as flame. And I could never tell which one you were: mythical creature or natural born child. Sometimes I look sideways at you and fear you will disappear, soar into the heavens with great wing-flaps which be...
Read more

Poem(s)14 - Six Haikus

Six Haikus Avigayil Rosensweig Snow Past Dark Half moon window dark Snow sleets unseen except in penumbra of lamp The Plain Meaning Hand strokes beard, wool-white "They said, ' but the plain meaning.' For ' and ' I would stay." Central Park Statue Squirrel stiff on park bench Eye like glass, muscles quiver Startled--leaps--scampers Lu'lei D'mistifina "I would disagree Did I not tremble to dare" And then he argued Dust Storm Sand settles on cars We draw pictures on windows Clear grit with fingers Not Enough One sound words they are short not hard to work with but do not quite say en--   
Read more