Variety at intimate gathering of poets

By Eileen Wingard

Eileen Wingard
Eileen Wingard

LA JOLLA, California — The gathering for Jewish Poets—Jewish Voices, last Tuesday evening, was intimate, but the quality of the readings was high. Simon Menkes, a new transplant to North County, read from his poetry. Later, during open mic, he read a page from his novel. Below is an example of his creativity, a poem written after the death of his mother. He dedicated it Tuesday evening to Susan Hagler, the devoted JCC staff member, who recently suffered the tragic loss of her daughter-in-law, Amy Hagler.

The second featured poet, Nancy Sandweiss, read from her book of collected poems, Love Remains, then added some of her more recent works. Her poems elevated the ordinary to imaginative artistry.

The last group of featured poems by the late Tony Kunewalder (1962-1995) were read by Michael Horvitz. All the attendees were touched by the deep insights expressed by this sensitive man.

During the open mic, Simon Patlis, a featured poet in past years, read two selections from his Russian poetry, first giving us a brief synopsis of each poem. Although only two people in the audience understood Russian, we all enjoyed hearing the rhythm and rhyme of the Russian words.

Jenine Rainbeau-Heart surprised us with poems, composed on the spot, in response to the poems by the featured poets.

Michael Horvitz shared one of his recent works, and Jewish Poets—Jewish Voices moderator, Joy Heitzmann, read from her diary of Hikus.

The next Jewish Poets—Jewish Voices evening, Tuesday, February 23, 2016, will feature great Jewish poets from the past, Zalman Schneour and Leah Goldberg. Various members of our Jewish community will be reading Schneour’s and Goldberg’s works in Hebrew, Yiddish and their English translations. Havurat Zemer, the Hebrew singing choir  under the direction of Riva Raz, will sing two songs by Leah Goldberg.  Myla Wingard will sing one of Zalman Schneour’s Yiddish songs.  Students fromTarbuton will be reading some of Goldberg’s children’s poems.

Samples of poetry read by the three featured poets on Tuesday evening, January 19 at the Lawrence Family JCC:

A CALIFORNIA FUNERAL by Simon Menkes

One sunny Southern California day, I found myself
Upon a grassy hill that gently rolled,
Down to a clean and pretty row of granite crypts,
Which sparkled in the light like gold.

Nearby, my brother and my sister stood,
With those around who heard the news and came,
To view the simple coffin in which lay,
She, who gave me first my life and then my name.

This funeral we three weren’t old enough to host,
For I was 21 and they were younger still,
And she was only 49,
Whom that stairway fall did quickly kill.

When all were there, some prayers and words were briefly said,
Then on her box each placed a fist of dirt,
And as she went down I glanced at people’s faces,
And saw written on them shock, and rage, and hurt.

Yet I could not stand to feel those feelings,
Nor did I allow myself to shed a tear,
For I felt I must stop all emotions,
To gain control over a growing wave of fear.

The funeral was quickly finished,
Then we to our cars returned and drove away,
To drink deep our neighbor’s whiskey,
And try to push away the end of day.

And the world kept on spinning like this death was normal,
Which, for the next few years, I too did try,
But couldn’t hold it and gave up and crawled
Inside myself to try and die.

Funerals are always sunny in this land,
And though this makes them clean and without stain,
I think, sometimes, the only comfort those Death leaves behind could stand,
Would be some misty clouds and some gentle drops of rain.

AGE OF INNOCENCE by Nancy Sandweiss

My grandson hangs suspended
on my upstretched limbs.
Four-years-old and wishbone thin
a living, grinning bridge.

I peer up at his delicate blonde beauty,
Mesmerized by his animated eyes, full cherry lips.
Laughing, he collapses on my belly, snuggles close,
long frame light in my arms. I breathe his sweetness.

He begins to squirm, little boy’s body pushing against me.
I gently disengage, rise to my feet.
         Let’s tummy touch some more, he says.
I grab a book to read aloud.

A few months later he stares
at two girls prancing nude
in the women’s locker room.
He laughs at their antics,
Their shiny pre-pubescence.

Still smiling he dons his swimsuit
Beneath a posted sign:
Boys over the age of 5
         must use the men’s locker room.

THIRD GRADE/BALANCING ACT by Tony Kunewalder

I balanced the chalk eraser on my head
And walked around the class
As fast as I could
Trying not to let it fall

It was a game we played
In my third grade class
I can’t believe I was that young
So little time ago

My body changes
My journey continues
It’s really not that long
Between birth and death

Not nearly as long
As we had all imagined

So I must chuckle
At the absurdity
Of this situation
We find ourselves in

Delivered to a world unannounced
Too dumb to know why we are here
Too smart to ignore the question
And on quite a tight deadline

 

So look for me
Circling the star clusters
With a chalk eraser
Balanced perfectly on my head

As I warily chart the great unknown

*
Wingard is a freelance writer who specializes in coverage of the arts. She may be contacted via eileen.wingard@sdjewishworld.com.