|
Home
Spring-Summer
2013
Winter-Spring
2013
Fall-Winter
2012-2013
Summer-Fall
2012
Spring-Summer
2012
Winter-Spring
2012
Autumn/Winter
2011-12
Summer
2011
Winter/Spring
2011
Autumn/Winter
2011
Summer
2010
Spring
2010
Winter
2010
Autumn
2009
Summer
2009
Spring
2009
Autumn
2008
Summer
2008
Spring/Summer
2008
Winter/Spring
2008
Editor's
Note
Guidelines
Contact
|
Two
Poems
by
Sherri Moshman Paganos
New
Creation: For Suzy
Suzanna
in her placid purple – T shirt, new All Stars
Just
bought from the market in Crete
along
the streets In Koum Kapi by the glassy sea,
while
clouds gather in the east.
Foul
weather ahead? The shoes lie scattered
in
bulky wooden bins,
that
might be part of Noah’s Ark
(I
half expect to see tigers two by two)
Instead
of the blessed animals, sneakers
piled
high in all colors, sizes, find the mate.
As
the seller, a modern Noah, stroking his beard
twirling
his silver worry beads
straddles
a chair, sweat on his puffy face,
chants
in his best English “Convehrse!
Made
in Vietnam! Fifteen evro only!»
Offering
to us his holy All stars.
Suzy
in violet, weighted down by her black backpack
Stuffed
with books, notebooks, laptop,
A
snack of stuffed eggplant wrapped in foil,
peaches,
plums, pears, all the hallowed fruit.
She
drifts toward passport control
Once
through, a quick wave
as
again we send her off to the unknown
to
storms that rage on the seas
to
floods that threaten to destroy the world.
But
watch her as she finds shelter from the downpour,
as
she steps lightly on the shore of a new Creation.
|
|
Spinoza’s
Happiness
Spinoza
found his happiness from within, you said.
As
he walked along the canals of Amsterdam in disgrace
grinding
his lenses in ever increasing dust
they
filled his lungs
but
not his heart which sang with joy
and
love for God part of all nature
submerging
his passions,
seeing
sunset over the Prinsengracht,
he
felt his own life in the perspective
of
all eternity.
Though
they shrugged and shook their heads
at
his God-is-nature heresy,
he
smiled knowing all happens from necessity,
A
friend’s voice, a hand caress,
all
very nice but not true happiness.
Like
Spinoza you stay the course, eyes
straight
ahead, sailing calm and steady,
your
only anchor, your inner world.
|