My poems
In 1986, I was honoured with the Nancy P. Schnader poetry award from the Academy of American Poets. Here you can read some of my poems.
American Landscape
He arrived at the house
at 4:30 in the afternoon
parked his car
made sure he had
the keys in his pocket
and strolled toward
the back of the house
where he knew she would be waiting.
It was green,
the world was green that day
for it was the beginning of June,
her favorite season.
He went up the stone steps
listening to the music
of the swaying trees,
the breeze on the grass
the heavenly smell
of the gardenias.
He found her sitting by the lemon tree,
her breasts were lemons,
her small face turned sunward,
her frail profile evaporating slowly,
lazily, the way years went over her
as if not to disturb her tranquillity.
He walked toward her,
her smile was warming him already,
her face was a sun
he was caught, trapped in her aura,
he took her hand,
kissed her on the left cheek
and she kissed the air next to his ear
with a small smacking sound
she was wearing white pants
and a white jacket, very old,
almost yellow now
and very rock-n-roll like her heart.
Stonybrook, New York
1986
Family
This man never talks
He’s still on fire
He’s not burning away
He’s burning into white smoke
He goes straight up
Above the roofs
And there he talks
In shapes.
This woman never stops
Talking talking talking
She squints and tries to see
Something behind the sea
She sees nothing
There is nothing
Behind the sea
So she’s talking talking talking.
There are no children here.
Eve
Eve has taken
The animals of the world
Into her house.
They are her pets.
She licks the mice
She licks them clean
Like a good mother,
She hangs the bats
Upside down
From the ceiling.
The dogs howl and bite
The cats are wound
Round Adam’s hairy leg.
“They are beasts,” he says
He covers his head with ash
He regrets it all
He misses paradise.
Eve is happy.
Birth of the Poet
It was serene
and there were dreams
and all the Time
waited by my side.
The dreams knew
The Time knew –
my mother –
My mother was a big balloon
Soft inside
hard outside like a shell.
I remembered
and started to the end.
Light and screams
then with a long wail
I died.
Junior
After my divorce
I spent five years
in the company of a large ginger cat.
He slept on my pillow
next to my head.
He purred all night long.
I stretched my hand out at night
and he was always there.
If I cried
he just purred harder.
The day I moved away
I gave him to a friend.
He is a great cat, she said.
I know, I said.
For Timothy
Boy in haste
making paper boats
with short, plump fingers
tongue drawn sharp over the teeth
boy, boy in haste
hurry, hurry up
make your paper boats
to cross the paper sea
right over to the other side.
Me and my Knee
Who would have thought
that the stubborn girl
with the straw hat
her ribbon flying in the salty breeze
by the ocean
her laughter
summoning little grey birds
in the garden of old
lost now for good
that she
would end up in this
series of rooms
dragging her right leg behind her --
Where the hat now
and where the ribbon
where the mother's hand
and where the voice
sweetened by memories of honey
on the bread of childhood
I live with my knee
as if it were a lover
his cruel touch
harbinger of the end of all things.
Pain in the crust of the bone
every fibre, every hidden
nerve, every tendon.
More constant than eternal love
more devoted than most
a true companion
in this series of rooms.
And yet the wound is elsewhere.
Wild Beasts
The wild beasts at the circus
the wild beasts at the zoo
the wild beasts in your heart –
don’t tame them
please don’t.
The shattering light wakes me up.
I shine in my white bed
that is dark underneath.