You are browsing the archive for Martina Reisz Newberry.

“TEA” after a painting by Henri Matisse

June 3, 2011 in Poets At Work

tea after a painting by henri matisse
“Tea”
   after a painting by Henri Matisse
The gallery finally opened. She waited all morning, fingering the change in her pocket,
looking at her watch, pretending to be fascinated by her fingernails.  The gallery finally opened.
North wall, light focused perfectly: two women talking intimately over teacups.  
Matisse dreamed and his dream shimmers on the North wall of the gallery
Sound of steps on path
Greenery stirs, flash of sunlight
Summer suspended.
(To view painting, see:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/artimageslibrary/5684463582/)
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مكسور (BROKEN)

June 3, 2011 in Poets At Work

%d9%85%d9%83%d8%b3%d9%88%d8%b1 broken
 مكسور  (BROKEN)
You don’t have to speak Iraqi Arabic to say
“murdered child,” or
“murdered aunt of nearly dead child,” or
“murdered grandfather of critically wounded child.”
It’s the same in any language
whether you love or hate the speaker.
in the villages where women
hide their expectations
under their burquas,
All men are interrogators.
The women live in a no-women’s land
frozen in sand,
bullet-riddled walls
where sweet Sanaa and
funny Raheem
mull over childhoods that won’t end in death.
We’ve broken their backs, America.
We are Pharaohs over a paraplegic population.
What more could we ask for?
Still, we ask for more.
We are our own pasts, America.
We are destroyers of what others cherish.
S O U L is a country we burned to ash
longer ago than there is memory.
How can we survive when our
journey begins with a funeral procession?
How can we dare to live a present
that teeters on the edge of
a history without remorse?
The average American is lonelier than
the average jellyfish and rightfully so—
urine doesn’t calm our country’s sting.
I wish this was an abstraction,
an allegory, but it’s not.
These words spell reality,
they spell lamentation,
they spell oceans’ endless accusation,
they spell the-whole-planet-can-explode-

and-we-will-stay-at-war.

 

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A newbie posts…

June 3, 2011 in Poets At Work

a newbie posts

I am new to Poets At Work.  So far, it seems to have a low-key intensity which I like very much.  I am a writer, mainly a poet, for the last 10-15 years.  I look forward to seeing exactly what goes on here, who goes here, the poetry emerging.  It’s all exciting.  I’m glad to have found PAW.  I hope some of you will visit me at http://www.rollwiththechanges.org.

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PEARL

June 2, 2011 in Poets At Work

pearl

PEARL

Are we in the last days?
We, here, not far from the temple of anachronisms,
is time welling up out
of a natural spring with us trying to catch all
we can catch in our hats?
It is a perfect day in November, but it might
be the day of Chronos
doing his eternal thing, leaving us to do ours.
Inquire of yourself:  why
the despair?  Why the migraines?  If you were expecting
this poem to be a pearl,
you may want a refund.  Me?  I’m just my own bones, my
own cloth.  I’m a compressed
sort of concubine, growing my parts into something
which may or may not rise,
but will most certainly burn.  All of my moods suit me
fine and, while I do notreflect the light as I used to,
I still burn in it.

 

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