Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"seder" poems
My flesh is freshly skinned, because of my father’s nails. My father is brushing out the tangles in my hair. He is used to the brushing, he says, because he used to have a sister. I don’t think to ask him where his sister is now, although I picture her with hair perfectly tangled, like an extended family, like ancestry. My family tree is knotted and webbed, but every member has a place, and if you’re lucky, a purpose. My mother’s purpose is to cook soup for the Passover Seder. I picture Passover as ****** as when the planets forget to flash across the sky. This happens. I have seen it the way I’ve seen a boy look at me from across a wooden table. The boy feels like my cousin, even though he is not my cousin. He just happens to have a gaze that calculates, like the gazes of the old men that sit together in my town, on the corner of the two streets whose names I can never remember. When I walk by them I make sure to shuffle my feet even quicker than I usually do, because I want to forget about my body. I don’t look in mirrors anymore. I don’t even look into my favorite lake anymore. The way it wrinkles together hurts as much as my father’s nails do: my father’s nails against my scalp and against my skin. My father picking me up out of the bath. I am still wearing my organs. I don’t think I’m three years old anymore, but I’m not quite sure. I can never remember what it is like to age.
0
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 3:10 AM UTC
Picturing my Family as my Body as the Red Sea
Maundy Thursday – Mass of the Last Supper “Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang” -Shakespeare The air is thurified – the incense given Our Lord upon His birth is fumed at last; The censer’s chains, clanking like manacles Offend against the silence at the end of Mass Supper is concluded; the servants strip The Table bare of all the Seder service: Cups, linens, and dishes, leaving in the dark An Altar bare, prepared for sacrifice In Gethsemane the flowered air is sweet But iron-heeled caligae offend the night
0
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
Maundy Thursday - Mass of the Last Supper
“Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang” -Shakespeare The air is thurified – the incense given Our Lord upon His birth is fumed at last; The censer’s chains, clanking like manacles Offend against the silence at the end of Mass Supper is concluded; the servants strip The Table bare of all the Seder service: Cups, linens, and dishes, leaving in the dark An Altar bare, prepared for sacrifice In Gethsemane the flowered air is sweet But iron-heeled caligae offend the night
0
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 7:00 AM UTC
Maundy Thursday - Mass of the Last Supper
woke early, too early and thought of your power its back, i hope cool still, but the disconnect funny, last night youth, innocence, ignorance craft beer about and you that war i spoke it was all blood and death and they smiled i wanted you to know today is busy art has eaten me up seder last night and here i am, the catholic my black soul, drinking syrup it tastes and i can't, i'd rather not i'm lost the table huge and they put me at the end i try to hide but they see it, that **** light it's a draw you know transparent, though i shield it sunglasses and bare face and still, it persists i'm laughing my bare soul pressed and these eyes whose are they? always tool long i go, it's frustrating i know i'm sorry ****** again, the apologies you do it, we laugh yours is different and my foot that morning hearing the restraint your voice, and i hate myself i see your eyes, turn down feedback masked as criticism i'll try, you must too it's a minefield i've not the supplies alone
0
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 9:26 AM UTC
first light