Deborah Bogen: Season of Light — and of Darkness
If you happen to meet someone for whom the season of light is a reminder of a dark time, of a sorrow or a loneliness, take a moment and sit with them, let them be that dark. Believe in their sorrow as you believe also in joy. Believe in them.
Deborah Bogen: Homeless Box
Sometimes we cross to the other side to get away from their carts and tarps, to avoid their dirty murky faces, but mostly we look through them, past them, above them, our eyes seeking the sanctuary of the shiny store windows.
Deborah Bogen: Four Truths About Anesthesia
1/ Maybe this is how it is: as you fall asleep a small hole opens in the back of your head just above the neck where children love to be … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: October
A train pulls into the station. Passengers break like billiard balls, glide to cars and uses. Ezekiel the pushcart vendor hawks his hot potatoes. This is the month of the … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: Florida
Abraham. What were you thinking nudging Isaac up that hill? You must have known some tests must be refused. You say I shouldn’t judge, that I’ve made my own mistakes … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: This Poet’s Occasional Alternative
after the great Grace Paley to mark these dark and dangerous times I was going to write a poem I made a call instead it took about the same … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: Learning to Eavesdrop
The Summer I Took The Special Art Class I began to understand — the moon could be aspirin, or Necco, or clock or porcelain plate in the sky. The moon … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: Post-Traumatic Stress Ghazal
Fear fades, but the stain is set, remembered in odd neuron groups, each vignette remembered. The shadow of the bridge that floated on the water, the broken boy half-drowned, … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: Why I’m Still Voting for Bernie Sanders
I didn’t want to get involved. Not ever again. I came up, politically, in the age of anti-Vietnam war protests and going door-to-door to end the proliferation of nuclear power … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: Introducing Kuno Raeber and BE QUIET
. The Scholar, as Artist, Clears the Table Take the plate from the table carry it through the chambers. Don’t be confused by the dust, the spider webs, the sawdust. … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: Studying Stalin and Shostakovich
History’s a country of rubble and supposing, friend. We’ve thrown things into the air that will never touch the ground. Still I study. I read till my brain’s kaput, the … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: For the Girl Who Came to Class with Her Altered Body
Preferring comfort, you plan to discard your powers. To bury them in the garden or in your neighbor’s field. I don’t blame you. You’re tired of the chronic shivers, worn … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: January
Think of a snowfield before the first child wakes, before sled runners cross the hill and the boots of hunters do their work. We’ve climbed to the top of another … Continue reading
Deborah Bogen: Preface
Drape prayer flags over every school bus. And every hospital balcony. Fly them from the steeples of churches, wrap the mosques and temples too. Decorate the dictators’ palaces with prayer … Continue reading
