Bio Note: I live in Toronto, Canada. I was born in post-war Poland to Holocaust survivors. Over the past 20 years I have sought refuge in poetry from my frenetic professional life. I tend to address weighty topics of the heart and of the world. No surprise, my chapbook is entitled History and Being. I hope to ‘graduate’ to the daily ordinaries as soon as the madness of the world subsides. Maybe soon. I have been published by Persimmon Tree literary magazine, Split This Rock (online), Tikkun (online), and the Canadian Jewish News Literary Supplement in 3 separate issues.
I do not see the ordinaries of paying bills, renewing services, cleaning the counter, brushing teeth. I sketch madly outside the lines, alive only as long as I revise After a shower I adjust my positions, a ferris wheel, a goddess with multiple hands circling round and round to rehearse the giving of mercy I am a wave charging into the dollar store colliding with immovable forces, aisle to aisle, until I finally pay and ebb away I used to feel like a goddess, a gimme goddess entitled to everything I saw, to all the sun candy, after a war that boarded up the heavens and left behind stones for bodies How I wish I could see my grandmother, how I wish I could see my grandfather, on either side of the mountain roads that I rip through as Hermes, the fastest god, the messenger who will bring my family back to me I curl up napkin ancestors. I forget that I wanted everything. Now I am waves and rocks and crucified wishes turned to words.
1 Do not judge me by my words‒ just a mosquito repellent against invasions from beyond. 2 You and I use the same words. But are they the same? 3 Words are sculptures carved into silence‒ to be read from what is unsaid. 4 The words that stay with us in the end are our final profile for the hereafter. So craft your life accordingly. 5 Words are a babel of meanings that we each have the illusion we understand. 6 Language is a prison that madmen and poets attempt to free us from. 7 Words are wind chimes activated by fear. Wind chimes are words transformed into song. 8 Words are like coffins‒ The boards remain while the spirit has flown away. 9 Words are fatal when taken in large doses. 10 Words are a headache that can be relieved by silence. 11 The act of creation makes words‒ and takes them away. 12 Words cover up nakedness‒ silence reveals it. 13 Words are mental yoga‒ not a pillar of salt. 14 An exchange of words is a duel of identities, and journeys through the world‒ a long view is recommended. 15 Words are a hint‒ not a syringe. 16 Words elucidate and obfuscate the unknown. 17 Words expand to fill the time that could otherwise be used for action. 18 Dear wise one, is it possible for one word to have two or more meanings? Yes and no.
©2020 Anita Lerek
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