Poetry for November Days
Now not yesterday
No country or government should dictate otherwise
No political party
Nor should any State or Country tell wonen how to live their lives.
As a straight women who survived a crime and am forever changed and scarred by it,how dare they!
LGBQT people deserve respect
Think what you want but be kind and thoughtful
Now not yesterday.
Back To School
It’s finally here,
the end of snow days.
Nothing sums up where we are at
more succinctly than this.
I remember my snow days distinctly,
that moment of light bulb going off realization
of the exhilaration of freedom,
the pause in homework
and then getting on the land line
to make a plan.
I remember sledding on the 72nd Street hill
in Central Park,
on the hemline of Fifth Avenue.
My mind scrapes the barrel of my memory
for this day
every time I pass it,
which is often.
I can still feel the weight
of soaking wet denim
sticking to my watermelon pink
and the very human shade of red
on pale thin skin.
I did not have snow pants
but made sure that my 3 daughters
I do not recall
who brought the splintering wooden sled
with chipped steel glides.
My family was not the kind of family
that owned and stored one.
As soon as Lexie could sit up
we bought a plastic sled.
part of the thrill
was swooshing past
my comfort zone.
I was not a daredevil by nature
and speed, rocks and crowds to navigate
I tried not to pass down.
Today New York City
has declared the death of the snow day.
The culmination of climate change
and magical remote capabilities
has snuffed out any potential
for waking up
to news of the elation
of the unexpected.
There will be no more
bright rosy cheeks, knees and noses,
no more waiting
for the numbness to subside
just enough to clutch
the Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate.
There will be no more
disappearing gelatinous marshmallows
dissolving into stretches
of serendipitous days off.
that stick sweetly in your gut
well into middle age.
Instead when the snow drops and wallops
that day will become
yet another forgettable Wedneday,
experienced on a screen
while on a phone
and in ratty pajamas,
triggering the pandemic
that put an end
to the great snowball fight
and slaughtered the snow angels
on weekdays in Central Park.
~Nicole Freezer Rubens, author of “The Long Pause and the Short Breathe”
Just Get on with It
What does it mean to have it all?
Do those words mean I walk straight and tall,
Even though, at the moment, I have hit a wall?
Sometimes I have to rise up after a bruising fall ,
What do I do when frightened and in pain?
The reasons for this might sound hollow or inane,
As I put up a brave, secure image that’s not true,
Since I do not accept feeling sad or blue,
Having it all includes making mistakes ,
Or how do we know without risking high stakes?
Is it alright to fail, start over again once more?
Does everything follow a pattern for sure?
The answer is, there’s no answer for all of us,
Taking a wrong road can be turned into a plus,
Just get on with life and stop making a fuss,
Feeling alive means having everything!
~ Carol Ostrow, author of Poems from My Pandemic Pen
Two Priests Walk Into a Pizza Joint
May sound like the start of a joke
But it really happened.
Last night at the Four Bros
so dubbed by my niece
We noticed them as they entered
they did stand out
And declared it a blessing
We must have been there awhile
Because upon their exit, they stopped at our table
it pays to be open
A lively conversation ensued
Though we told them we were not of their persuasion
They offered us a blessing
yes, by all means yes,
you can’t have too many of those these days
Would you believe
That Father John had a Jewish music teacher
At seminary school?
hence the rousing rendition of Hava Nagila!
~Stephanie Sloane, author “Dear Me”