By Eileen Wingard
LA JOLLA, California–The season’s heaviest rainstorm descended Wednesday evening, January 20, as fifteen people braved the inclement weather to gather at the JCC Astor Judaica Library for the first of three programs by local poets: Jewish Poets—Jewish Voices.
Yael Gmach, who was scheduled to sing an original song in French, was stranded in the downpour and needed to be rescued. She never made it to the program. Sara Appel-Lennon, the other programmed poet, read an impressive sampling of her work. Two examples follow.
During the program, a plaque was dedicated to the memory of my late husband, Hal Wingard, who had participated in the inaugural series of poetry readings last year. I read several of his lyrics and some were sung by our daughter Myla.
For open microphone, Michael Horvitz read his work. His performance was so outstanding that he was invited to be one of the featured poets on the third evening. Interestingly, he wrote a poem about Hal, although Michael knew Hal only posthumously, through his poetry. Two samples of Michael’s work are below.
The second evening, February 24, featured six student poets from the San Diego Jewish Academy and their teacher, Melissa McKinstry, as described in an article posted previously on San Diego Jewish World.
Simon Patlis, a native of Tashkent, opened the third evening of Jewish Poets—Jewish Voices, on March 9, with several selections in Russian. Although just a few people in the audience understood his words, the inflection of his voice and the spirit of his delivery were riveting. He explained what each poem meant and rendered one of the poems in an English translation. Since that evening, he has translated a second poem into English.
Here are six examples from our adult Jewish Poets-Jewish Voices. Another series is being planned for 2011. One of the unique features of these evenings is that on each program, one of the poets writes in a non-English language, spoken by Jews.
Two Poems by Sara Appel-Lennon
Temple of Dreams (inspired by the newly-built Temple Emanu-El)
Embraced by Jerusalem stone walls
Jewish prayer and songs shared by all
Room filled with shofar blasts
Reflections from the stained glass
Rainbows dance across the bima
Divine sense of Shechinah
Donors carry torahs up the aisle
Six hundred thirteen commandments
adorned in style
Respect, pride, and hope fill our souls
Feeling connected, we feel more whole
Judaism enhances our life and our views
Standing tall, we’re proud to be called Jews.
**
Mourning
When there is a death
Breathe deep, you have breath
Fitting to feel grief
Robbed, taken by thief
Life has its sorrow
Time can’t be borrowed
Weeping bitter tears
Breathe deep, you’re still here
Burning, red hot mad
Missing what you had
Lonely, scared, sad, blue
Faith will see you through
When there is a death
Breathe deep, you have breath.
*
Two Poems by Michael Horvitz
Hal Wingard Came By
I never knew you, Hal.
But maybe
I know you
I saw your name
like so many
among
e-mailed announcements
I searched the Internet
through and around
endless trappings,
and you were there,
but you were not there.
The “Information Highway”
goes on and on
but where? and for what?
Then,
visiting some
real place
I found your verses
dressed smartly
like a young beau
still courting
dancing
within your wife’s voice
You were familiar
the way a man who loves
his wife
and the world
feels warmly familiar
as something we’ve always
longed for
You knew
as a poet must know,
that death
stops
only
the uninitiated,
that love
in its form
touches
into
the unknown.
So, Hal,
while some may wish you
rest in peace
I’m not so sure
you seek that rest.
What poet rests?
He does not own
that right
He is obliged
to seek out
to carry
human emotion
beyond his own
mortal life
into a restless
eternity
in which
he feels privileged
to partake.
And there
among
the deathless voices
does he find
his peace.
*
Body of Verse
For Carole:
Body of verse
Body of woman
There are words that come to me
solid and weighty
as the Live Oak
Everything rises from the earth
everything dreamed of carries
sounds and mysteries
Cradling
In my ears
a new knowledge
Words–the substance
of verse–my nourishment
You–the substance
of woman–nourish me
Let all the verses
sing
to me until I die,
As I equally
explore the accents
of your flesh
All the sounds and scents
tastes and touch
all that is beautiful
All that I desire…
In life…In you…
all that keeps me alive…
Body of verse
Body
of my
woman…
Two Poems by Simon Patlis
A Speck of Dust
I smashed up a galaxy in the heat of pursuit –
A little speck of debris parked itself on my boot.
I at once shook it off – and it vanished from sight,
And a new little star in the sky went alight.
Vainly, though, I sped – still was late in the end;
Of the dreams that I had – never learnt what they meant;
Left behind in the hustle what was mine – all gone by,
Just that speck of a star ever shines from the sky.
*
Dawn
awe! what a moment:
you, as yet are still asleep;
but the night’s matured and has been like an altar sheep
already sacrificed to the effulgent god,
and scarlet droplets of its glowing sacred blood
are being sprinkled on the clouds by a radiant hand,
igniting fires of the dawn that fade the stars and shadows,
and the world’s prepared for the oncoming mighty surge
of nascent day that’s just about to emerge
from the lethargic still and silent nightly deep…
and you, – remember – as of yet you’re still asleep
*
Eileen Wingard is a freelance writer based in San Diego