New Poetry by Naomi Ruth Lowinsky: “In And Out Of Time,” “In The Wake Of Our Lady Of The Double-Edged Axe The Notorious RBG,” “Prepping For Apocalypse,” “Sideswiped,” and “The Queen Of Souls”

THE ALWAYS HOVERING / image by Amalie Flynn

IN AND OUT OF TIME

In the fire-eaten land
in the smoke-drenched air
PUT CHARACTI dream

PUT CHARACTCrystal Lake  
PUT CHARACTsquare raft afloat
PUT CHARACTat the center

I   in my clodhopper shoes
in the patchwork circle skirt  
I made myself    
PUT CHARACTin my hippie days

have jumped in the lake
to show   
my solidarity

with forest
mountains
ancestors 

with glittering Crystal Lake   
I swam   as a girl   
whose raft   was sanctuary

from Father’s far-flung furies
from head-smacked howling brothers
from tongue-lashed weeping Mother

This simple   handmade craft  
of wood    of nails
floats me   out of time

holds me
in the great blue round 
of lake    of sky

the green surround
of pines
where the always hovering

Old Ones
who knew me then
who dream me now

give me the words
to write myself back   
PUT CHARACTTTTTTinto time

in my waterlogged
clodhopper shoes 
 my patchwork skirt

back to the fire-eaten land
back to the smoke-drenched air
PUT CHARACTtt                   my handmade craft

 PUT CHARACTTTT                                        my raft

 

IN THE WAKE OF OUR LADY OF THE DOUBLE–EDGED AXE
THE NOTORIOUS RBG
(Erev Rosh Hashana   in the year 5781)

The shofar wails

She’s gone
from her body   gone
from her seat on the court   gone
from her grip on what’s equal   what’s just  
gone
from her fierce resolve
to keep breathing
until January 20th 2021

Everything hung on her small   frail   frame
What will we do without her?

Once I forgot I was real
a daughter of earth and sky
forgot what the angel
had told me at birth

Once I had holes in my tongue
from biting it
had blood on my hands
from broken glass
on the top of that wall
There was no escape

Throttled by custom   by law
I spat my teeth on the road
My fire was used to burn me up
My body did not belong to me
a vessel for lust   for seed

But you   our soft-spoken battle-ax
our mother who was a falcon
had the cunning   the courage   the ken
to seize the keys to the castle  
the plantation   the prison
to deliver us
from gender’s cages
the shackles of race  
from those scoundrels in power
who steal from the poor
and ransack the earth

The shofar wails   

She’s become one
of the Holy Ones
No longer can everything hang
PUT CHARACTTTTTTon her small   frail   frame

Too much for one body   to bear
It’s your fight now

Bless us   O falcon-headed soul
of the notorious RBG
Our Lady of soaring sight
of focused attack
Our messenger
between the worlds

Sit on our shoulders
Hunt in our dreams
for the courage   the cunning   the keys
the double-edged axe
we’ll need
to end the mad king’s reign
and rouse your spirit in us
                                          all over this land

 

PREPPING FOR APOCALYPSE
          for Alicia

requires   the pursuit   
of toilet paper   avocados   gluten-free bread
He needs blueberries   with his yogurt
You need mushrooms   with your eggs
Both of you stuck   in lockdown

So   surrender  
Hang  yourself   upside down  
Be the bat   who sees   in the dark     Smell
the terror   cruelty   carnage     Hear
the echoes   of the ancestors

Pandemic    is pandemonium
the world turned into   a charnel house
The sinister rider   on his pale horse 
has rolled us all up    in The End of Days
like a medieval map    ringed with dragons

A Revelation   is at hand     The sun  
gone black     The moon  
a bloody show     Guadalupe wanders 
the woods   haunted by who  
She once was

Our Lady of the Serpent Skirt     Apocalyptic
woman   crowned with stars   in the fierce grip
of birth     Will She bear us  
a savior?         Will She bear us
a demon     shatterer  of worlds?     How will we know  
PUT CHARACTTTTTTTTTTTTT                    the difference?

 

SIDESWIPED

Sweet Lola    my Barcelona Red   hybrid   chariot   
you   who transported me   from sixty something
to the middle of my seventies   through Obama’s two terms  
Michelle’s organic gardens   the color spectrum
of her splendid gowns     you   carried me  
when we were all   blindsided
by the 2016 election   fed me NPR news
the Russian hack job   on America  
the wannabe Pharaoh   throwing tantrums  
on Twitter   while the traffic   roiled around us

even as you approached   a hundred thousand miles
you stayed stalwart   kept me safe   in your calm interior  
as you switched   from gas to battery and back  
making our small gesture   toward saving the planet   
you who   delivered me   into our garage   protected
from rain   from wind   from the ash   that devoured the mountain
Dan coming out   to help   with the groceries

There were groceries   for Passover   in your trunk   Lola  
flame raisins   dried apricots   dates   almonds 
for the Sephardic charoset    which symbolizes the mortar  
it is said   we Jews used   to build the pyramids    
when we were slaves   in Egypt     But who knew  
when I made that left turn   a big black Beamer
would hurtle toward you   Lola   we almost
made it   before it hit you   in the right rear
I thought it was just   a fender bender
They’d fix you up   at the body shop
like the surgeon   fixed my hip

But the man in the Beamer   leapt out   shouting  
It’s all   your   fault!
I can still hear him shouting    
while his kind   quiet wife                                                     
asks for my registration

What’s that?   I think
my mind   in fragments

Later I’ll gather the flame raisins 
dates  apricots and almonds   pulse them
into small bits   in the Cuisinart     knowing one needs
to break things up   to make that rich   sweet                     
Middle Eastern paste   charoset
that’s meant to bind us   together
when vessels shatter

Later the total loss   claims man   will pronounce you  
totaled     You   Lola  
who had the saichel   to feed your own battery     I’m still reaching   
for your slow-down lever   grasping thin air   forgetting  
I’m driving a clunky   Chevy rental  
on my way   to retrieve the layers of umbrellas   shopping bags  
shoes   in case of earthquakes   maps   we no longer use  
flashlights   whose batteries   likely died   in all those years  
before you started   losing oil 
before the black Beamer   sideswiped you  
before the man   began to shout  

before the total loss man
pronounced you   worth more dead   dismembered
for spare parts   instead of resurrected   one last time
at the body shop    the buff young woman
commiserates with me   helps me carry
the detritus   of our years together
to the clunky Chevy

It’s Easter week   and Passover
We remember the ones   who’ve passed on
We light candles   for my children’s father  
Dan’s children’s mother   my mother  
the bedlam that erupted   in her wake
O   my separated kin   will you ever   join us again?

We name the plagues   Old Pharaoh flings at us
as we gather our mishpocheh    on the way to freedom
We name   what plagues our own   shattered    times
     Stolen Elections    
     Separated Children
     Hatred of Strangers 
     Greed
     School Shootings   Sanctuary Shootings   Police Shootings   Street Shootings
     Homelessness
     Climate Chaos
     Species Extinction
     Family Feuds

The youngest one adds
     People who cannot forgive

     Pass the charoset

 

THE QUEEN OF SOULS
PUT CO Lady, Lady of the changing shapes,
PUT Chelp me remember…
                               —Judy Grahn

Some souls are shy     They hide out   behind the shutters   of your eyes
Some souls are soggy    like the earth after rain   like a woman   after a good cry
Some souls get born to sass the universe     listen to them snicker
                                                                                                 in the back of the class

Some souls can never be satisfied     Give them three wishes   they want five
They eat your heart out   send your spirit packing       You forget
who brought you here     You question your every breath 
                                                               your spirit guides    your mother’s milk

Some souls have rocks in their shoes    drag you down  
to the bottom of the slough   where earthworms squirm  
and you are sunk   spat out   for what terrible deed
PUT CHARACTTT             in what former life?

Some souls insist   on dance     Some need poems     Some will make you
map out a whole world   of characters   who’ll take over  
your inner chambers     Won’t stop talking   until you write them down

Some souls keep singing    even in the eye of the storm   even at the bottom
of the pit   where the Queen of Souls    She who harrows   your bones   knows  
even black holes   even dead trees   grow mushrooms   host baby birds   and snakes

Some souls live in sandcastles  
until a wave   knocks them down    
The child forgets   what she built

Some souls have feathers   and claws     
Some souls can shed   their skin    
Some souls become jaguars   in your sleep

Some souls surf atmospheric rivers   wrangle tornadoes  

ride nightmares   glide and glitter
amidst rays of the sun   in the redwood grove

Some souls are old   and lonely     Can’t remember
                                                               the last body  
           they were in

They hover in the rafters   watch the infinity loop
of lovers   impatient for that last   passion cry   
for the deft dive   of sperm into egg   hungry   to leap  
into new life

Some souls remember themselves   as tears   as pearls  
on the throat    of the Queen of Souls   
When your time comes   She’ll weigh

your heart   your balance   of feather   and claw    
Maybe She’ll give you a glimpse  
of your soul’s flight   wings aflame  
                                                     on the way   to your stars