Monday, September 29, 2008

October 2008

This month features Channie Greenberg
(KJ Hannah Greenberg)


Seven-folded, grief turns, spirals,
Disintegrates. Departs.
Directing humility in fragments,
Burning here, there, incalculably.

Some bits start healing, while
Words of consolation
When buffeting utter sorrows.

We reach in, all sobs and tears,
Culling kindness toward days holding
Compassion home to everyone
Who comes, sits floorward, besides
The wounded. Family

Fixes character
Our souls redirect certain thoughts
Toward Oneness’ Mercy.

This time of wailing
Fades hours otherwise
Sailed through with doctors or away
From sudden crises.

“Normal” becomes a place
Where stars pull Earth
Skyward; its unreachable horizons
Linger; heart-felt understanding
Never grasped, yet life renews.

Differently, at present,
Nightfall’s horn calls
First-degrees of sorrow,
Followed quickly by crummy customs
Innocently meant to sooth.

Prayers emerge, compensate,
A best effort.
Time makes friends, again
With mourners.

1960’s Fraternity Pin

A kiss,
Of gold and blue,
Inlaid with attachment,
Announces modestly to others,
Our set.

Channie Greenberg's most recent work has appeared in: The Jerusalem Post, Calligraphy, Hamodia, The Externalist, Doorknobs and Bodypaint, Type-A Moms, Fallopian Falafel Zine, The Clarity of the Night, Joyful! and Tuesday Shorts. In the near future, her articulated irreverence will be published by: Poetica Magazine, Bewildering Stories, The Blue Jew Yorker, AntipodeanSF, and The Mother Magazine.

When not engaged in wordplay, Channie paints, builds ceramics, and supplies small spatulas to imaginary hedgehogs. She also dreams about the day when her children will correctly sort the laundry.