PSH: Poets of the Week

Bio (auto)

B.E. Kahn is a recipient of Pennsylvania Council of the Arts and Pew Grants, along with other awards and prizes.. Her poems have appeared in Harrisburg Review, Philadelphia Poets, Bridges A Jewish Feminist Journal, Mad Poets Review, Schuylkill Valley Journal and The Tupelo Press Online Poetry Project among other publications. A retired speech therapist, she lives in Wynnewood, Pennsylvania and has taught poetry to intergenerational, interfaith groups. Her chapbook, Spring Apples Silver Birch was published October, 2008 by Greenleaf Press. Another— Landscapes of Light is forthcoming in 2009 by Poets Wear Prada Press.

Visit B.E. on the web here: http://www.bekahn.com/

At the Kotel, Second Day

Those prayers I sent into the cracks
of light-soaked stone

are sailing somewhere in a sea
of wished-for things. Whitecaps

buffet or caress. I don’t know which.
The wind’s voice presents its favors.

I am grateful for the wind’s
keening high and lilting low.

KJ Hannah Greenberg
drkarenjoy@yahoo.com

Bio (auto)

A 2009 nominee, in poetry, for the Pushcart Prize, KJ Hannah Greenberg has been fortunate to have her Judaica appear in numerous venues, including in : Fallopian Falafel, Horizons, Mishpacha Magazine, Scribblers on the Roof, The Blue New Yorker, The Jerusalem Post, The Jewish Woman, and The New Vilna Review. Beyond actively producing her own short stories, poems and essays and regularly being called on to critique or to write reviews about the short works of other authors, Hannah writes books. Look for her Oblivious to the Obvious: Wishfully Mindful Parenting, by French Creek Press, spring 2010.

A Response to a Potential Olah:
Foo-Foo Ain’t Worth Squat
When it Comes to Kavanah

If not the rarified air of the sandstone hills,
Then the rosemary grown to shrubbery.

If not the gates of Mattesdorf locking in Shabbot,
Then the tallit on our flag.

If not the Arab’s five times daily reminder,
Then the aide memoire of Esau’s bells.

Our forests yield deer for the native.
Our roads provide reminders for the family.
Our deserts churn salt beneath the slaughtered.

Foo-foo ain’t worth squat when it comes to kavanah.
Only nudniks value yichus; it’s
Middot that reach us toward Shemyim.

The coin to the hand,
A loaf for the lady loaded with bags and craziness,
Visits to Bichor Cholim strangers,
Readily giving the pregnant a seat,
Leading chevrusot through posukim,
Hugging a sibling.
Those merit.

Your children can not be the same.
Should not be the same.
Bring them home.