Monday, June 16, 2014

The Fiber of Stars

 Santa Cruz
—Poems by B.Z. Niditch, Brookline, MA
—Photos by Cynthia Linville, Sacramento


In the still life silver vase
from Romania
given to me
after my first European
poetry tour
now with new flowers,
tulips, daffodils, magenta roses
at my doorway
I become Whitman
in my loving ardor
to love life
I awake to feel
joyful and forgiven,
grateful to be alive
now with green parent stems
in a bowl of water,
what can anyone say
when one tastes
a new cold angel cake,
living on cold air
and French bon bons
and chocolate croissants
a lover brought me
from the La Boulange,
reflecting the friendly chat
of years once divorced
at one time,
separated because of necessity,
but you came back
from the Big Apple,
could my life hold more.

 Noah Purifoy, Joshua Tree


The rose in your hand
a carnation
on my new suit's lapel
and we are ready
to dance the tango
as the hotel contest
in San Francisco
who chose us as winners,
only yesterday I was
hunting for free food
at La Boulange
asking the kid
to give me something free
an incredible moment
to be that couple
on the ballroom
with the lights on the Bay
inspiring love
here under the fiber of stars.

Noah Purifoy, Joshua Tree


Going to the deli "haus"
on Commonwealth Ave
you carry the pocket sandwiches
and half-sour pickles
with paper napkins
it is a loving June laughter night
and we put the daffodils
on the window pane
our life has gone away
into the imagination world
of an ecstasy hour
and we try to put on
the broken air conditioner
then a Japanese post-war film
Hiroshima Mon Amour
the phone rings
and my first play has been
accepted off-off Broadway.

Noah Purifoy, Joshua Tree


Thin as a paper moon
is your drama queen face
we stare out on the Bay
you wear a trembling lilac
on your elegant evening dress
pollen is shimmering
on my face,
remembering with clarity
a postcard from you
which kept my jazz-song-
of-a-life going,
another day by the transom
when you left me
like Anna Karinina
in the Russian novel
by the cable cars,
you did not take your life
that seriously
but you were sad
because you did not
get the part
in the grade b movie
with Richard Widmark
but we saw the film together
Pick-up on South St.
which we enjoyed



With the flowers
of a past romance
you walked beside me
by the dark streets
of an emerald city
to encourage
my name up in lights
the night I was featured
to perform the Blues
in a sonorous night
of my personal appearance,
your life never got in the way
of my poetry and jazz poverty
you always forgave me
for my bravado
or in my humbleness
and remorse
when you came back
after an argument,
not looking back to sadness
but to such trembling memory
to be enamored in the Big Apple
drinking in tall wine glasses
wishing no goodbyes
in house dreams
of a bright white way
a flicker of musical lights
of another premature midnight.

 Cornerstone Gardens, Sonoma


Fishing for salmon
without a lifeline
my orange kayak
collapses on the rocks
of Cape Cod,
a wealthy tourist
from San Diego
rushes to save me
on the reefs
handing me
two hundred dollars
and inviting me out
with his wife
to dinner,
his generous heart
to a mendicant poet
and musician
will not be forgotten
in the waves
passing over
these distant blue spaces
of a aromatic June dusk.

 Gualala Beach


Yes, Judy Garland
when you sang to me
"Let everybody sing"
At the Punch Bowl,
a club in the South End
of Boston
you were on my knees
a pretty sight
and honor for me
during the midnight music
drawing its heavy breaths
from my sax riffs
trembling with the roses
in my armful
I dedicate to you
in a friendly elegance
of campy pride
my arms ache
playing the blues
beyond midnight
which does not leave me
for electricity is jazz
in the party air
like cold leaves
by the Charles River.

 Duncan Mills

W.B. YEATS' BIRTH (6/13)

The bells we heard
chime out by a gorgeous sea
as words of congratulations
are expressed in bliss
of a popular chorus
tolling out the window
as in the Isle of Inasfree,
the hour you were born
this county needed liberty,
yet there was love in the air
as first light increased formally
before you were aware
in your still-innocency,
the boy weighed in
by the doctor in a corner
with a wet nurse all in white
on that June 13th night
in a silently human climb
of a small special child on earth
lying under a painted blue crib
under beautiful lace on time,
folks from town and place
celebrate your birth
as in Adam's rib
all curses of sin are over
for the human race,
the family waits on a miracle
and musical shadow
with lucky charms and chance,
as birds move on the trees
in an Irish gig and country dance
uncovering a warm day sky
under morning street lamps
a couple in love without a care
walk by with a sunlight romance
from your poetry eventually
you will share,
about this colorful Dublin time
under the most gentle of days
of June spring breezes
after Mary's month of May
when music sings and plays
around the table
hearing drinks extended
to all who are able,
O hear the earth in the clearing
of the seven sister stars
from the endearing W.B. Yeats
after whose life in verse
his name put on white stone
as one of the greats.

Duncan's Landing

Today's LittleNip(s):


Overhung by ice
wishing for a river
to swim in, like cold lemonade.


The sun flames
a wave is suddenly mute
when Hart Crane passes.


Surviving hospital, pain
and surgery
tubes inside and now out.


Sparrow on my brownstone
peaks its dry mouth
on the black spruce.


Greeted by Ginsberg
at City Lights Books
shocked he remembered me.



Cornerstone Gardens, Sonoma