Otis Nebula 2021
--Laura, Kathy, Morgan, Ann, Dorinda, Emily, Annis, Angie
letter, glaze, grub, blur, blown, hollow, sugar, red, pecked, hands, unburied, preacher
Forgive me, I’ve waited too long to write this birthday letter
which I will do, just after I make the lemony glaze
to smear on these cupcakes, childhood’s grub made fancy.
Your favorite, our tradition. All these years passing in a blur--
we have blown through them at break neck speed.
Pain and joy, hollow and fulfillment mixing together
like this swirl of confectioner’s sugar, lemon juice and rind.
Outside the kitchen window, a red cardinal lands
on the feeder pecking at the seed, I feel my own cheek pecked
by the memory of your lips, I feel your hands in mine squeezing,
as though I could bring you back, make you unburied, feed you cake.
Call the preacher, gather the dearly beloved, he has risen again.
Laura Garfinkel
birthday, after, fancy, tradition, neck, together, swirl, window, cheek, memory, bring,
gather
Crumbs
Only cake crumbs left from another birthday,
after songs, after blessings,
from a cake that longed to be fancy
in accord with our tradition.
I bend low for a kiss goodbye–small arms around my neck,
small fingers weave together before they tug their mother’s hand.
Images swirl–
I watch through a distant window–
dancing cheek to cheek.
Memory rewinds its tape over and over–
the flowers you bring,
whatever it will gather in its arms.
Kathy Goldblatt
8.12.21
crumbs, blessings, longed, accord, bend, weave, images, watch, dancing, tape, flowers, arms
She accused God of giving her only crumbs of love,
not the blessings she felt she deserved, not
the grace and contentment she longed for, nothing,
in her opinion, that was in accord with his promises.
This was her prayer, her bend towards faith,
as she let her body weave in the flickering candlelight.
Images of a thorny Jesus and a placid Mary
watch her in the dark shadows of gladiolas,
shadows dancing like naked ladies with feathers
taped to their heads, blooms eager to pay homage,
flowers grateful to be gathered
in the arms of saints.
--Morgan Ray
accused, deserved, nothing, opinion, prayer, flickering, thorny, shadows, feathers, eager, gathered, saints
Confession
We, the accused, did not strike the match--
we deserved, nonetheless, the dress of blame,
to wear the shame of doing nothing,
only running our mouths, spewing opinion,
when Gaia sang— then shouted— her prayer,
when the flames were barely there, flickering
we refused to travel the thorny path,
preferring shadows over sacrifice,
caring little for skin that grew feathers
or fur, we were eager only for our own
wants and desires to be gathered and garnered
while Rome burned and the saints turned to ash.
--Ann Weil
strike, dress, shame, spewing, shouted, barely, refused, over, skin, own, desires, turned
I strike an attitude whenever
I dress in these gossamer wings
Shame momentarily escapes my bones
As if I am spewing self-doubt
Shouted “Here I am!”
Barely looking over my shoulder
Refused to bow down
Fluttering over this tangled web
Has always been skin hugging pride
My own body heat thrumming
Desires on parade
Turned on fire
--Dorinda Woodley
attitude, wings, bones, doubt, here, looking, bow, web, pride, heat, parade, fire
circling
sometimes attitude circles a place
where breath wears its own wings
still, our bones cast neither right
nor left while doubt weaves
itself to center, and you speak of here
here, as if looking forward might string
the bow: lift your shoulders
the spider repairs the lace of a web
no pride in her work, only need
and that small heat of the living
finding the mountain, the parade,
the moment of both thread and fire
--Draft, Emily Darby
place, own, cast, left, speak, string, shoulders, lace, no, heat, parade, both
In this corner of my heart, this place
Where I own the truth of who I am
I cast thoughts upon remnants from the past,
longings from those limiting youthful
years when I dare not speak of my desire
to string together words in poems.
Rooted to my shoulders stood the task of most first-borns
of my era, to lace together a future packed with promise,
to raise no doubt my parents’ sacrifice was worth it.
And I did. But heart-place passions rise like heat, these days
I write, watch poetry parade across the page,
hone verses that both transform and delight me.
--Annis Cassells
corner, truth, remnants, from, dare, together, rooted, era, worth, rise, across, delight
Daring
She quivers in the corner, wandering
mind quivering harder—here where truth
wanders from remnants to collage,
from stolid serge to lace.
Will she dare to heal, to plow deep,
to furrow, together with her women?
Or will she stay rooted, locked
in an era of confusion and fear?
Somewhere there is land worth
working, where she can rise, grasp
old hands, leap across the valley
to mountains, howl in delight.
--Angie Minkin
Forgive me, I’ve waited too long to write this birthday letter
which I will do, just after I make the lemony glaze
to smear on these cupcakes, childhood’s grub made fancy.
Your favorite, our tradition. All these years passing in a blur--
we have blown through them at break neck speed.
Pain and joy, hollow and fulfillment mixing together
like this swirl of confectioner’s sugar, lemon juice and rind.
Outside the kitchen window, a red cardinal lands
on the feeder pecking at the seed, I feel my own cheek pecked
by the memory of your lips, I feel your hands in mine squeezing,
as though I could bring you back, make you unburied, feed you cake.
Call the preacher, gather the dearly beloved, he has risen again.
Laura Garfinkel
birthday, after, fancy, tradition, neck, together, swirl, window, cheek, memory, bring,
gather
Crumbs
Only cake crumbs left from another birthday,
after songs, after blessings,
from a cake that longed to be fancy
in accord with our tradition.
I bend low for a kiss goodbye–small arms around my neck,
small fingers weave together before they tug their mother’s hand.
Images swirl–
I watch through a distant window–
dancing cheek to cheek.
Memory rewinds its tape over and over–
the flowers you bring,
whatever it will gather in its arms.
Kathy Goldblatt
8.12.21
crumbs, blessings, longed, accord, bend, weave, images, watch, dancing, tape, flowers, arms
She accused God of giving her only crumbs of love,
not the blessings she felt she deserved, not
the grace and contentment she longed for, nothing,
in her opinion, that was in accord with his promises.
This was her prayer, her bend towards faith,
as she let her body weave in the flickering candlelight.
Images of a thorny Jesus and a placid Mary
watch her in the dark shadows of gladiolas,
shadows dancing like naked ladies with feathers
taped to their heads, blooms eager to pay homage,
flowers grateful to be gathered
in the arms of saints.
--Morgan Ray
accused, deserved, nothing, opinion, prayer, flickering, thorny, shadows, feathers, eager, gathered, saints
Confession
We, the accused, did not strike the match--
we deserved, nonetheless, the dress of blame,
to wear the shame of doing nothing,
only running our mouths, spewing opinion,
when Gaia sang— then shouted— her prayer,
when the flames were barely there, flickering
we refused to travel the thorny path,
preferring shadows over sacrifice,
caring little for skin that grew feathers
or fur, we were eager only for our own
wants and desires to be gathered and garnered
while Rome burned and the saints turned to ash.
--Ann Weil
strike, dress, shame, spewing, shouted, barely, refused, over, skin, own, desires, turned
I strike an attitude whenever
I dress in these gossamer wings
Shame momentarily escapes my bones
As if I am spewing self-doubt
Shouted “Here I am!”
Barely looking over my shoulder
Refused to bow down
Fluttering over this tangled web
Has always been skin hugging pride
My own body heat thrumming
Desires on parade
Turned on fire
--Dorinda Woodley
attitude, wings, bones, doubt, here, looking, bow, web, pride, heat, parade, fire
circling
sometimes attitude circles a place
where breath wears its own wings
still, our bones cast neither right
nor left while doubt weaves
itself to center, and you speak of here
here, as if looking forward might string
the bow: lift your shoulders
the spider repairs the lace of a web
no pride in her work, only need
and that small heat of the living
finding the mountain, the parade,
the moment of both thread and fire
--Draft, Emily Darby
place, own, cast, left, speak, string, shoulders, lace, no, heat, parade, both
In this corner of my heart, this place
Where I own the truth of who I am
I cast thoughts upon remnants from the past,
longings from those limiting youthful
years when I dare not speak of my desire
to string together words in poems.
Rooted to my shoulders stood the task of most first-borns
of my era, to lace together a future packed with promise,
to raise no doubt my parents’ sacrifice was worth it.
And I did. But heart-place passions rise like heat, these days
I write, watch poetry parade across the page,
hone verses that both transform and delight me.
--Annis Cassells
corner, truth, remnants, from, dare, together, rooted, era, worth, rise, across, delight
Daring
She quivers in the corner, wandering
mind quivering harder—here where truth
wanders from remnants to collage,
from stolid serge to lace.
Will she dare to heal, to plow deep,
to furrow, together with her women?
Or will she stay rooted, locked
in an era of confusion and fear?
Somewhere there is land worth
working, where she can rise, grasp
old hands, leap across the valley
to mountains, howl in delight.
--Angie Minkin
