Helen Bar-Lev,
IL
2008 Winners
It is a rainy and
cold Christmas day here in Israel. It is also Chanukah. Even
though you will be reading this after the holidays are just
memories, I do wish you all good holidays and a healthy and
peaceful 2009. Today the Israel Radio's classical music
station was playing Christmas songs, carols.
I am so pleased to be able to announce the winners of the 2008
Reuben Rose annual poetry contest:
REUBEN ROSE ANNUAL POETRY CONTEST WINNERS
1st prize:
ROCHELLE MASS - From My Kitchen Window
2nd prize: MARTIN HERSKOVITZ - Names
3rd MICHAEL DICKEL - Oasis
HIGHLY
COMMENDED
ROCHELLE MASS -
Where's my home?
DIANE GREENBERG - I cannot plant
BRIENDEL LIEBA KASHER - Natan The Gabbai
MICHAEL DICKEL - As In a Dream I See a Grave That is not There
ROCHELLE MASS - 4 women
COMMENDED
ADRIAN BOAS - A
Photograph by Frederic Brenner
GARY CORBI - Ein Gedi
JUDIT NIRAN - Letter to Firoozeh
GERARD SARNAT - The Patriarch
JEAN KADMON - Jerusalem
Autumn
ADRIAN BOAS - BEE
You will be able
to read their poems next month, or once they are published by
Voices Israel either on the website or in the
Anthology, which is in the final stages of preparation.
Cyclamens and Swords Publishing today notified the winners of
our own poetry contest. These will be posted on our website
around the new year, so please take a look:
www.cyclamensandswords.com. This poem by Roger Bell
from Canada won first prize.
Roger
Bell
The last evening of summer
in
memory of Michele Hackstetter
Tonight I chased my shadow
stretching
leaning throttle-wide
down the open Vasey Road
with the sun hanging on behind
in windblown envy.
I smelled the cattle before
I saw them, white and brown
begrudgingly single-filing
heads down and muttering
towards the inevitable barn.
I heard the geese before
they
crested the trees in a loose line
their far eyes intent upon the waiting marsh
and a night of folded wings before taking
again to air.
I felt the way the right
wrist
as if to say, there’s always more to give
turns further around and back towards the heart
as you enter the fragrant eclipse
of the dim cedar swamp
and then re-emerge as
brilliance
where the way begins to climb and wind
where if you turn to look over your left shoulder
across the tender hymn of fields and woods and water
you’ll rejoice: what a good long way you have come!
What is interesting in these contests this year is this: Poets
from Israel won all the prizes with the exception of Gary
Corbi, who lives in the USA. The poems selected were mostly on
Jewish subjects. All poems are judged anonymously, and it is
unusual for this to happen. Our judge this year is Richard
Berengarten (Burns) of Cambridge, England. What is unfortunate
is that just two days ago he advised that he is not able to
come to Israel for the awards ceremony and the week of
lectures and workshops which take place annually in December
or January in conjunction with the contest. The workshop will
take place 9-10 January as planned but will be run by a local
poet.
We have a new
kitten (about 5 1/2 mos old) who followed Johnmichael home
last week. He is all black except for a tuft of white under
his chin and a real sweetie. When he arrived here he weighed
about one kilo! and was terribly undernourished. He is fine
now, playing with the other cats and the dog, all rescued
creatures. So as to avoid further tragedies with cats running
into the street, we've asked a contractor to build a large cat
enclosure in the back yard, which will be done next week. I
haven't written a poem about him yet, but below find a poem
about another cat, who is about 15 years old:
The Ginger
Cat Again
This morning
the ginger cat
with white paws and face
almost fourteen years old
jumped from the top of the refrigerator
to a far cabinet and back
I photographed him in mid-leap
a streak of orange with a tail
was captured by the camera
But now I suspect he's dead
one hundred percent dead
except he's breathing
when I check to see
how far along he is
in the process of dying
he bites me
This cat has developed a relaxation strategy
akin to an art form, worthy of patent,
so that meditation masters may learn from him;
when he next wakes up, a few hours from now,
or perhaps tomorrow,
I'll suggest he write an autobiography
