Returning In-Person, Jewish Poets-Jewish Voices Features Poem on Lviv and More

LA JOLLA, California — The first in-person program of Jewish Poets-Jewish Voices in two years took place in the Astor Judaica Library Tuesday evening, October 25, and featured three Southern California poets, Nathan Grinshpun, Jane Muschenetz, and Omer Zalmanowitz.

Moderator Joy Heitzmann introduced them. First to read was Nathan Grinshpun. Although Yiddish and Russian were his first languages, and he speaks several others, his strong command of English was revealed by his imaginative works. His final poem was a short opus in Yiddish, which he followed with its English translation. Below is a sample of his talent.

Jane Muschenetz invited her mother to share in two of her presentations. The readings revealed why her poetry has been published and has garnered prizes. Her childhood in Lviv, Ukraine, was the inspiration of her opening poem, printed below.

Omer Zalmanowitz, former San Diego resident and SDSU graduate student in creative writing, was the last to read. His was a stream of consciousness poem. A short excerpt is below.

A half hour of open mic followed the featured poets during which Michael Horvitz, a member of the Jewish Poets-Jewish Voices Committee, was presented Don Harrison’s newly released book, Shlepping and Schmoozing Along the Interstate 5 Volume 2: Morena District Through the San Diego County Fairgrounds. In chapter 18, Harrison writes about the Jewish Poets-Jewish Voices Committee to exemplify cultural activity at the Lawrence Family JCC, Horvitz’s poem, North Park, North Park, A lament of the gentrification of my neighborhood, exemplified the high quality of work shared at the programs of Jewish Poets-Jewish Voices. The series is now in its 15th season.

Lviv, Ukraine by Jane Muschenetz (Mom Egg Review, May 2022, Poem of the Month)

Long before Reuters and BBC reporters signed off from it,
Lviv, Ukraine was my hometown, I knew it
by another name—Lvov, Ukrainian Republic, USSR
is, like anyone’s childhood, I suppose,
a dot on the map of time that no longer exists.
None of us can ever go back to our soul’s point of entry into this world…

Lviv is/was Ukrainian/Soviet/Russian/Polish/Slavic/Austro-Hungarian territory and all of them hated the Jews more or less equally…
You see how tugging one tongue can unspool the entire tapestry?

Lvov is the name of my birth city in Russian, which
Is my Mother Tongue.  My Father’s first language was Yiddish,
but that is also not-the-whole-story, simply another forbidden melody,
A compromise of German and Hebrew, of heart and geography, a plundered treasure reaching its golden roots all the way to Aramaic grains of sand

Ancient alphabets, some mystics believe, house the true name of God
Once known, a word to unlock understanding—if only
we could speak it, placing the right accent on the right syllable

Naming God is an ambition I do not share

I am only trying to unpack one girlhood’s worth of beginning—
Each language a nesting doll, carrying inside itself all the recipes and ingredients of a people,
their poetry and their death certificates, their libraries, songs and kill orders,
health records, love letters, addresses we can’t return to
and none of it is enough, I am still looking
to find the right word for where I come from

Even though the news reports mention it hourly—Lviv, Ukraine,
war, refugee, near-constant bombardment,
bravery, devastation—one thing always means so many other things and nothing has just one name to answer to, just one life to answer for

Tsadik Uncle Yosel by Nathan Grinshpun

In the year of 1939
Went to Tsadik for the Shabbos
Isaac, Avraham and Haim,
Mahen little bit L’haim,
Study Torah, eat some cholnt…

But the Tsadik uncle Yosel,
Looked and looked up to the sky,
Looked through trees and shrubs,
Birthed black giant deadly crosses,
Right above, up very high!
Tsadik watched with his third eye…
Opening of deep abyss,
For the people-yours and mine…
And so prayed my uncle-tsadik:
“Please preserve at least a quarter
Of your children, Adonai!”

In the year of 1967
In full view of Israelis,
Russians and Arabs too,
Yom, Ruvim and little Mottle,
Went to Tsadik for L’HAIM,
Which is nice for me and you…

Prayed again my uncle Yosel,
At the house near old wall,
“I have begged you-save a quarter,
But you saved them…almost ALL!!!”

He prayed and died all happy,
Magic light came from the sky,
Tsadik Yosel, Uncle Yosel,
One who loved his Matzo-Brei…

Upstate Loch by Omer Zalmanowitz

loch

fall
upstate the leaves betrothed
to the season

kid in jest
bitten
brackish hearts

nutty skyline

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