Neither Positions Nor Possessions...

Tonight I watched a moving, memorable Holocaust documentary with Oprah Winfrey and Elie Wiesel, filmed at today's Auschwitz. (Please, after reading my post, scroll up again to line 1 and click on the hyperlinked phrase above!)

At one point, Elie Wiesel told Oprah, "What I realized here is that nothing mattered…positions or possessions, nothing." His eloquent words inspired this poem:

Sorry To Burst Your Bubble, but…

By S. L. Lipson 

                                

          P ossessions

          O r

          P ositions

                     P ersuasions                                      

                     O r

                     P ermissions

                                 P olitics

                                 O r

                                 P ontifications

                                          P op!

                                             F izzle!

                                                F ade!

                                                   F ly...

                                                  

                                      Only Love survives.

Special Poem for Holocaust Remembrance Day 2014

A sonnet dedicated to Irving Lipson and his family

Puddles of Wax

By Susan L. Lipson

A candle flickers in my heart for you;

I symbolize it with a wick just lit,

Commemorating millions also due

For honor as we rise from where we sit

To sing of lives snuffed out before their wicks

Had burned for all the years they should have glowed,

Before they were consumed in flames like sticks,

Or piled in pits and ditches by the road—

A road less traveled by the ones who’ve dug,

Unearthing truths embodied by their bones,

The ones who will not sweep under the rug

The evil echoing in ghostly moans.

The candle flames will end in puddles here,

While yours will burn and shine in every tear.

Digest This!

#NationalPoetryWritingMonth (#NaPoWriMo14)

April 23, 2014Shakespeare's Birthday!

My poem for Day 23 of National Poetry Writing Month simply had to use a literary conceit to honor the great poet! And here it is, full of words not usually considered poetic, to say the least, but in a sardonic, Shakespearian tone.

Digest This!

By S. L. Lipson

If social intolerance for minorities

could be modified by enzymes,

like lactose intolerance,

then the verbal diarrhea

spewed by bloated egos

would be mitigated,

and the acid of cramped minds

would not be regurgitated;

then all would feel settled,

and the growling and discomfort would cease.

In the absence of such enzymes, though,

we might try dietary restrictions:

limiting our slanted media consumption
as a first step.

A New Spin on “Show, Don’t Tell”: How Writers Can Be as Memorable as Their Words

          Most us of have heard the saying, “You’re only as good as your word.” Does that also imply that you’re only as memorable as your word(s), too? Does it matter whether you matter as much as the matter you write? Maybe you’re fine with remaining anonymous, letting your words supersede your self. But most writers have more ego than that; it’s not a bad thing, but a fact. If you’re like me, you write words because your inner graffiti artist wants to leave a mark upon the world, to draw eyes to unexpected views that represent you to others and make them remember you.

[that was my graffiti, yes]

          You have surely been advised to “Show, don’t tell” in your writing. Well, here’s how to apply that adage to yourself, as author, to be as memorable as your words:

1. Show your respect for words via precise word choices, no matter how many revisions it takes to find them.
2. Show your respect for your readers via subtlety and conciseness, to honor their ability to interpret and their appreciation of precious time—both of which are disregarded by superfluous words and overwritten descriptions.
3. Show your depth of observations and psychological insights by developing characters that seem realistic and evoke empathy from readers.
4. Show your wit via well-paced, cleverly worded phrases that carry readers along, rather than force them to follow.
5. Show your intelligence via apt analogies, thoughtful symbolism, and insightful observations.
6. Show your style via figurative language that reflects images the way you’d post pictures on Instagram to reflect your personality.
7. Show your values via your fictional characters’ successes and failures, qualities and faults, their coping methods, and their various points-of-view.
8. Show your personal path in life by noticing and accentuating the thematic threads that run through many of your writings.  
9. Show your artistic influences via your allusions.
10. Show your understanding of your readers by choosing age- and/or genre-appropriate matter to unfold.

#NationalPoetryMonth 2014--Day 3 of a poem a day...

#NationalPoetryMonth Day 3

MY MOJO

My blind dog
Looks as if he sees,
While sitting and staring at me,
Silently conversing as I rub his neck.
My blind dog 
Seems guided by radar
Until he walks into a piece of furniture, out of place,
Then pivots and reroutes
Like a robotic, self-propelled vacuum cleaner,
Without even so much as a whimper.
My blind dog
Helps me see
How adaptation and positivity
Enable rerouting to roads less traveled.
He is my leader dog.

Words that Evoke Blushing

Today I happened to come across a nostalgic article by author Kelly Corrigan, "Apparently, My Mom Was Once a Girl." Her story of the day that she discovered the girl her mother had once been, via old letters between her father and her mother, reminded me so much of a poem I wrote years ago, when I was in my 20's and made a similar discovery about my mom. Here's the poem:

Blush

by Susan L. Lipson

Mom? Blushing?!

"Bobbi!" (He calls her "Bobbi"?!)

Then this apparently familiar stranger

Who obviously wishes to hug her,

But doesn’t—

Probably notices me,

Notices our resemblance—

Ogles her and sighs,

“You look just as gorgeous,

as you did…what is it now…25 years ago. Wow." 

That was before I even knew her,

before Dad even knew her--

Dad, who never calls her "gorgeous."

Now she's giggling. Really? Mom?!

"Remember when...,"

he reminds her,

and she beams,

misty-eyed--Mom?!

And this "Al" smiles at her appreciatively--

up and down--

and she lowers her eyes demurely,

but almost smirking. Mom?!

But who IS he--rather, WAS he--to her,

this giddy, blushing "Bobbi" girl,

a.k.a. Mom

a.k.a. Barbara,

a.k.a. Dad's wife?

MY DAD'S WIFE.

She's laughing now.

Flirting? Nah.

Smirking again. Mom!

She's red,

and I'm green,

in every sense of the word.

"Bobbi"

Do you remember when you first "saw" your parent as her/his former, single self, the object of someone's romantic desire, someone other than your other parent? Remember that day in words and write your own memoir or poem to capture that life-altering moment.