Vox Populi
A curated webspace for Poetry, Politics, and Nature with over 20,000 daily subscribers and over 8,000 archived posts.
Collaborative Poem: Spring Gone Missing
by Steve Bloom, Basman Derawi, Michal Rubin, and Dick
Westheimer*
Today I contemplate the utility of grief again,
while Springtime flowers give their season birth.
We search for meaning, cannot comprehend.
I once believed I knew how much a life is worth.
While Springtime flowers give their season birth.
I think of the last April where there was a spring.
I once believed I knew how much life is worth.
Deaths bloomed, consuming my last dream’s wing.
I think of the last April where there was a spring
muted, clipped, permeated with a familiar stench
Deaths bloomed, consuming my last dream’s wing
sleep fled, left the amputated dreams displaced
muted, clipped, permeated with a familiar stench
I untied the knotted cord and let the story drift away
sleep fled, left the amputated dreams displaced,
awakened to the scattered crumbs, the disarray
I untied, the knotted cord, the story left to drift away
as a father dreaming for his son a feast
awakened to the scattered crumbs, the disarray,
the hollow offerings of senators and priests.
As a father dreaming for his son a feast
the hollow offerings of senators and priests.
Today I contemplate the utility of grief again,
search for meaning, cannot comprehend.
________________________________
Copyright 2025 by the authors
*Five poets — Jewish and Muslim; American, Israeli and Palestinian (from Gaza and the West Bank)—began meeting and exchanging poems with each other last Autumn. We’ve learned to appreciate each other’s voices and poetry enough to collaborate on writing this poem —which is an attempt to express and understand what has been lost by residents of Gaza.
Basman Aldirawi (who also publishes under the name Basman Derawi) is a Palestinian physiotherapist, writer and poet from Gaza. He has contributed dozens of stories/poems to the online platform We Are Not Numbers and other platforms including ArabLit, Mondoweiss, Vivamost, Consequence Forum, Critical Muslim. Also, participated as a co-author in a book; We Are Not Numbers, 2025, Light in Gaza: Writings Born of Fire, 2022 and the Arabic poetry anthology; Gaza, the land of poetry, 2021.
Steve Bloom is a New York City based poet, composer, and social activist. His work has been published in many print and on-line journals. Steve is curator of the “Poetry of Protest and Struggle” video series (find it on YouTube) that comes out three times a year. His website is SteveBloomPoetry.net.
Michal Rubin was born and raised in Israel and has been living in Columbia, SC for the past 34 years, working as a psychotherapist and a cantor. Her poetry wrestles with her attachment to Israel, her pain and rage over years of occupation and Israeli oppression of Palestinians, and the horrific war in Gaza. Her work was published in many journals including Palestine-Israel Journal, TheNewVerse.News, Consequence Forum, Critical Muslim. Her chapbook “Home Visit” was published by Cathexis Northwest Press, and two full manuscripts, “And the Bones Stay Dry” and “there are days that I am dead” were published by Muddy Ford Press and Fomite Press.
Dick Westheimer lives in rural southwest Ohio with his wife and writing companion, Debbie. He is winner of the 2023 Joy Harjo Poetry Prize and a Rattle Poetry Prize finalist. His poems have appeared in Only Poems, Whale Road Review and Rattle. His chapbook, A Sword in Both Hands, Poems Responding to Russia’s War on Ukraine, is published by SheilaNaGig. More at www.dickwestheimer.com
Copyright 2025
Discover more from Vox Populi
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
All my life I dreamed of justice, fairness, peace, kindness… and I haven’t quite grown up, even though the older me has become more cynical. This poem takes me back to wanting to create the world of my dreams – it’s so painful. Every time I see people of all religions, races, worldviews come together to try and use words to understand, I begin to feel all gooey. As the Spanish say, ‘ojala‘, one day, my granddaughters generation might make a beginning. Don’t call me nuts, I am still dreaming.
LikeLiked by 3 people
One of my highschool Spanish teachers said Ojala so often we called her Senora Ojala. She used the word as a way of expressing a sense of wonder, if I recall. Perhaps we poets and poetry lovers can help repair the Boulevard of Broken Dreams, turn it back into Ojala Avenue.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ojala…
>
LikeLiked by 2 people
It is quite an amazing poem, every turn so well and carefully taken, and that they should collaborate in that form—like musicians in a great jazz band, fulfilling their roles in the sound with impeccable timing.
Oh no! Now must I get out of the Art and on to the world, the politic?
And we were doing so well for a moment. Must we?
How can we not?
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thanks so much, Sean. I am privileged to work with such fine and honest poets.
LikeLiked by 2 people
How can we not? We live in a time of great danger.
>
LikeLiked by 2 people
From the NY TImes newsletter this morning:
“Why has the Gaza war lasted so long? In a blockbuster investigative profile published this morning, the Times Magazine explains how Benjamin Netanyahu prolonged it partly for personal political reasons.” Presumably the report gives chapter and verse, but it seems to me that it’s been obvious for a long time. Makes one want to believe in Hell.
LikeLiked by 4 people
I believe in the ability of humans to create Hell, where amputated dreams mix with scattered crumbs and disarray, while permeated with a familiar stench, (as the poem relates).
But cheers to poets who help counter that evil, alone or in collaboration. The beauty of form in Spring Gone Missing defies current grim reality; in well-crafted form an alternative to Hell may emerge, if and when we respond with compassion and justice to their opposites.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Thanks so much for your thoughtful comment. I am privileged to work with such fine and honest poets.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oct 7 was a gift to Netanyahu. It enabled him to postpone his corruption trial and suspend elections. Every time a peace deal is reached, he sabotages it.
>
LikeLiked by 3 people
Ah this is what the world COULD be: men of all races &/or countries (and women too!)writing poems TOGETHER! And what a poem (& pantoum) this is!
LikeLiked by 3 people
Yes, I like the mix of men and women, Americans and Middle Easterners, Jews and Muslims. This pluralism may save us.
>
LikeLiked by 3 people
There simply aren’t enough superlatives, enough gratitude for the gift of this poem.
LikeLiked by 3 people
I know what you mean!
>
LikeLiked by 2 people
Oh, my, Julie. Thanks so much for your kind words. I am privileged to work with such fine and honest poets.
LikeLiked by 2 people
This poem captures so much emotion. A marvelous endeavor among the poets. I love the idea of collaborating, of different voices working together to write so eloquently.
LikeLiked by 3 people
I like collaboration as well. It’s hard to pull off though, blending the different voices into a coherent whole.
>
LikeLiked by 3 people
Very true. It’s not something you just sit down and slap together. But when it works it’s magic.
LikeLiked by 5 people
To me the poem reads seamlessly across the voices.
LikeLiked by 3 people
Remarkable, isn’t it?
>
LikeLiked by 2 people
“As a father dreaming for his son a feastthe hollow offerings of senators and priests.Today I contemplate the utility of grief again,search for meaning, cannot comprehend.”
Very much how I am feeling today in light of what my country is perpetrating in Gaza and the West Bank
LikeLiked by 4 people
Me too.
>
LikeLiked by 4 people