By Charles Reznikoff
In a world where each man must be of use
and each thing useful, the rebellious Jews
light not one light…
and each thing useful, the rebellious Jews
light not one light…
Explore Poems: Judaism
Showing 1-20 of 137 poems
- By Charles ReznikoffThe Jewess, Hadassah, takes the name of the moon-goddess, Esther;
her kinsman, Mordecai, whatever his… - By Charles ReznikoffThis was a season of our fathers' joy:
not only when they gathered grapes and the fruit of trees
in Israel… - By Chana BlochOn the holiest day we fast till sundown.
I watch the sun stand still
as the horizon edges toward it. Four… - By Carlie HoffmanLight sheds its skin in the poplars,
Earth’s soldiers wielding the dark, bats emerging
like machinery… - By Gabrielle Joy Lessanskaddish tore a boulevard through bird lung
say hyssop sing thirst less
subtle saplings down the sewer
straight into the silo
father
put me on ... - By Gloria Gervitzin the migrations of red carnations where songs burst from long-beaked birds
and apples rot before the disaster
where women fondle their breasts and touch their sex
in the sweat of rice powder and teatime
vines of passionflowers course through that which stays the... - By Bert MeyersRabbi of condiments,
whose breath is a verb,
wearing a thin beard
and a white robe;
you who are pale and small
and shaped like a fist,
a synagogue,
bless our bitterness,
transcend the kitchen
to sweeten death—
our wax in the flame
and our seed in the bread.
Now, my parents... - By Luke KennardAn extremely hubristic, unflattering, and accurate self-portrait, this episode saw Halberg in direct conversa-
tion with Cain, questioning his own methods. The passing allusion to Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin appears
to reference Chapter 4, stanza XXXV: “But I myself read my bedizened /fancies,... - By A. M. KleinA prowler in the mansion of my blood!
I have not seen him, but I know his signs.
Sometimes I hear him meddling with my food,
Or in the cellar, poisoning my wines, —
Yet face to face with him I never come;
But by... - By Robert AlterFor the lead player, for the Korahites, on the alamoth a song.
God is a shelter and strength for us,
a help in straits, readily found.
Therefore we fear not when the earth breaks apart,
when mountains collapse in the heart of the seas.
Its waters... - By Komal MathewA good shepherd is a wonder in contrapposto, an artist
mapping the Serengeti with kingdom lines.
A good shepherd angles a lion’s eye, traps gazelles
in dry fields, copies a cheetah’s spots one leg at a time.
A good shepherd does not give you... - By Justin Phillip ReedViolation
Wildflowered up the dreams of my captors,
Decorous men, half-moon bedded in my bloodstream.
The object is without objection. It was said
Such knowledge sharpened the Garden’s blurred shush.
The serpent also whispered in the field.
Abandon, the house of the lord, is
Abandoned. Its painted... - By Sass Sassoon BrownThere is a cistern
on the synagogue’s roof
and a drain pipe in the wall
leading to a small basement pool.
There are two witnesses, a rabbi
and one not-yet-Jew.
They are... - By Susan StewartWho are you? Where are you hiding?
Were you thrown,
tumbling through space,
aleatory,
radiant, only
... - By Shane McCraeThe hastily assembled angel thinks
He must be more like God than people are
Especially because he like God can’t
Choose to be less like God he tilts his chair
Back his brown metal folding chair on its
Back legs and... - By Peter ColeFucked art thou, with luck, o reader within the palace within the palette within the impatience within, who tilts his letters into the light of the mind’s muttering unto itself, releasing their sounds to the whirlpool fierce of an ear...
- By Bev YockelsonOn this night
I remember Nachshon
who was not Moses who
walked into the Red Sea
... - By Geraldine ClarksonThe Queen of Sheba packed fenugreek,
turmeric, milled cardamom, desiccated
coconut, sweet almond oil, figs, fat
amber dates, green lemons, and mint,
onto a dozen knobbly camels. Let’s see,
Poetaster, how your sinuses like these!
Her eyes lit up like a clutch
of desert sunrises. Hessian, leather,
cedarwood... - By Paul TranI know better than to leave the house
without my good dress, my good knife
like Excalibur between my stone breasts.
Mother would have me whipped,
would have me kneeling on rice until
I shrilled so loud I rang the church
bells. Didn’t I tell you...