Virtual Reading at Congregation T’Chiyah

On Monday, March 8 at 7 p.m. EST, I will read from my last book, Aleph, broken: Poems from My Diaspora, at my original home synagogue, Congregation T’Chiyah in Metro Detroit. Please contact me for the zoom link.

Cholent

The tradition is a stone building
windows filled with yellow light.
Black letters, square and mysterious as granite.
Wrought iron, that other voice:
Arbeit Macht Frei
spreading its arms across the gate.
The sword turns at the door.

I sit by Grandpa,
a wriggling toddler,
the only female in the shul.
I do not see a balcony, a curtain
hiding the women.
Old men in black fedoras
bow and sing.
The echo of the flames
is close in our ears; I do not know
the names of Grandpa’s brothers
who died before I was born.

Fridays, women in other houses
rush about, cleaning and cooking,
heating the oven to keep the cholent hot
meat and fruit, a stewing sweetness
I’ve never tasted.
My mother didn’t stand
white cloth on her head
lighting candles.
At Chanukkah, when I put the menorah
in the window, I hear the glass breaking.

Those who understand these images
Those who don’t

The books open the wrong way.
Yellow light
lies under the apple trees
like honey.

New book!

My next collection of poems, definitions, is in press and will be available in May 2021. It is a collection of poems in an innovative form, pretending to be dictionary definitions, organized as an alphabetic palindrome and consisting of wordplay, imagery and bits of memoir.

• 

Here’s the first poem, as a sample:

air
\ˈer\\
—noun; verb

1. Walk out and breathe deeply:
   fresh scent of pine, leaf mold,
   rain coming. In August,
   first drops on road dust.
2. A lovely song, fresh and light,
   sometimes with variations.
   An aria. I fill my lungs, trying to
   feel my back ribs stretch
   for a full breath,
   an extended phrase.
3. Put it out for broadcast.
   We need more of it,
   flushing the dark rooms
   where politicians
   plot.
4. In winter, it bites.

Upcoming reading

POETS in PLAY: Corning’s Poetry Series | eARTS.org

Featured Reader at 7PM followed by Inspired Open Mic

Hosted by Soul Full Cup Coffeehouse | 81 West Market Street, Corning, NY

 

https://www.earts.org/poetsinplay

Upcoming reading

Bright Hill Literary Center, Treadwell, NY

November 10 – 3 p.m.

http://www.brighthillpress.org

New book!

From Broadstone Books in Kentucky.

http://broadstonebooks.com/Judith_Kerman_Page.html

Upcoming reading

Caffe Lena, Saratoga Springs, October 5, 2016, 7 p.m.

Also open mic

Home

Pet Peeve (wearing my publisher/editor hat right now)

One of the things that makes me nuts when I’m reading manuscripts is pages that don’t end where my copy of Word (or my Submittable feed) says they should. I get the title for the next poem, chapter or story at the bottom of the page, often disconnected from the body of the text. It’s amazing that many writers don’t know about Page Break. I don’t know how you do this on a Mac, but it must be available – on a PC, it’s EASY. No, you don’t use the Enter key to shove the cursor onto the next page. PLEASE don’t do that. Because if my Submittable screen or copy of Word isn’t set with exactly the same margins, the page break won’t be in the right place.

How to do it right? When you get to the end of the poem, story, etc., hold down the Ctrl key and hit Enter. That will force a Page Break, which will work no matter how long the reader’s page is set to be. Carries over into PDFs and makes it easy to do layout (if your book is, as we hope, accepted). But even for reading manuscripts, and whether read online or printed out, this matters to a reader.

 

How to buy my new chapbook

Tags

ecology, feminist, poetry, politics

Want to read my new chapbook, Postcards from America? Go to my publisher’s listing of the book, which includes a pay button. (It should be on Amazon.com soon, but it’s better to buy from the publisher.) Please go to my Facebook page, Judith Kerman, poet/writer to like the page and  share what you think of the book. Thanks!

New chapbook coming!

My new chapbook,  Postcards from America (Post Traumatic Press) is expected from the printer this week (today is also my 70th birthday). Keep up with this project, my readings, etc. by liking me on my facebook page.

Another birdly neighbor

A big elm near my driveway just died. Guess who came to dinner? I knew pileated woodpeckers were in the area, but never saw one close up or near my house. This is taken with my new Canon, which has a 50x (!) zoom lens. Hand-held. (Leaning against something and holding my breath 🙂