No Longer Nobody
by Kitty Jospé
My toenails will twinkle if
you take me to the fair! I
love the circus, the hubbub , the feel
of a cosmic beat. A march, a waltz, and the physically
impossible antics of acrobats as
they leap. I’m gasping…because if
that one slips, he’s finished.—Of course, the
end for all of us is death… but not so equal. Who’s at the top?
Take off the masks, and examine the ground of
the music. Where is my
heart, where my head?
Somewhere, desperate and beauty were
hand in hand, taken
to where a truth of you, me was not longer off-
limits. Who are you? Who am I?
It should not matter that we know that we know
nothing. The soul is not concerned with that.
It knows that nature wears the colors of the spirit. The power is
fair ground, confirmed in the feeling of poetry.
About this poem:
I am using Terrance Hayes’ Golden Shovel technique. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/articles/92023/introduction-586e948ad9af8
The Line used is from Emily Dickinson,
“If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry!”
Inner Music [1] by Kitty Jospé
Can you feel it circling
like starlight under your feet?
It polishes sound polishing
itself to music—
It whispers, you’ll not find
me fashioned to size
aside my own—
my secret lies beyond
weave of sound, beyond
span of stride, rhythmic pace
sleeved in starlit grace…
The click of heels,
their flash-sparked power—
toe-taps sparkled in time,
minutes clique to tick the hour,
ask you to touch toe to toe
as earth does its salsa
with the sun in tow.
It sings of starlight winding the night
seeking the fire behind each pair of eyes,
the surrender of now here
now this
now that—
allows the current to carry off
the slow habits that dress the years—
Dreams slide from one eyelet key
to another, leading a story’s melody
threaded through time, through the tilt
of Earth’s shifting seasons as the moon
waxes, wanes, dictates the tides,
pulls sea-dusted, fine-shelled work—
pearls wrought from irritation of a grain of sand.
Music polishing this mirrored world
held in such a pearl.
[1] poem created for performance of the quintet 5×5 using the music of Olduröt performed in May 2018. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PvRHz3mKjUU and https://empyreanatlas.bandcamp.com/album/inner-circle transcribed for their instrumentation.
The Hand Speaks
by Kitty Jospé
I am gathered extensions—
four fingers,
a thumb,
articulated knuckles,
fingernails fashioned from once-was claws…
I belong to brothers, sisters, all who are born.
We are to make of our world
a diverse bouquet of handiwork,
in our confluence, we play a symphony of touch.
Let us celebrate the intricacy of hands—
123 named ligaments, 48 nerves, 30 arteries…
all the possibilities of grace in our gestures,
expressive silence.
I do not ask for your gratitude that all this
simply works in concert with muscles
to execute fine motor skills.
Do not use me to cover your eyes
when you are afraid or ashamed but allow
me to comfort when consumed by sorrow.
Do not use me to punch, pummel, slap,
create chains and weapons.
If someone requires me to torture and murder,
fold me into prayer.
Use me to reach out to the one who has wronged,
and the one who has been wronged. Use me to ask how to give,
and forgive. Use me to wipe clean, soothe, fold
into a cup to receive.
My hand, extends to your hand, becomes extension
to hand after hand of all brothers and sisters born,
to join in making of our world a diverse bouquet
of handiwork inspired by mind and heart.
Photo Response*
A leaf listens to the shiver of “not yet”—
“once was” rising like a sail.
*The word ekphrasis, or ecphrasis, comes from the Greek for the description of a work of art produced as a rhetorical exercise, often used in the adjectival form ekphrastic. It is a vivid, often dramatic, verbal description of a visual work of art, either real or imagined.
Do these words embellish the experience, the sensation of the photo?
Photo: Nick Jospé
Words: Kitty Jospé
Kitty Jospé, loves facilitating poetry appreciation and collaborations with word, art and music. After years of teaching French, she turned to English, and received her MFA in creative writing in 2009.
RUNDELANIA 