Poetry Super Highway

Poetry Super Highway

October 5-11, 2015: Stephen Kopel and Jay Frankston

Stephen Kopel and Jay Frankston

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Stephen Kopel
stephen.kopel@live.com

Bio (auto)

Stephen Kopel resides in San Franciaco, CA; a blatant wordsmith of witty verse, he is the founder of the North American Butchers of the English language; author of Spritz, Tender Absurdities, Picnic Poetry; he invests in the "I Take Stock" market assets divided among kindness, rational thinking and good-looking humor.

The following work is Copyright © 2015, and owned by Stephen Kopel and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

scan Dinavia this time?

Gefilte fishes
on Friday..
filament wrapped around
a longitude still dripping
from a midnight dip

nibbles alert Norway
this catch is serious
and bony spines spear
the short shrift adrift
off Oslo

got drunk in Oslo
one winter’s hangover
crossing..the dory listing
north, Hunky spilling his guts

Saturday, early,
she’ll start greasing
short stack pancakes
and Finnish with a
quality motor oil

 


Jay Frankston
wlp@mcn.org

Bio (auto)

Jay Frankston was raised in Paris, France. Narrowly escaping the Holocaust he came to the U.S. in 1942, became a lawyer and practiced on his own in New York for nearly twenty years, reaching the top of his profession, sculpting and writing at the same time. In 1972 he gave up law and New York and moved himself and his family to Northern California where he became a teacher and continued to sculpt and write. He is the author of several books and of a true tale entitled "A Christmas Story" which was published in New York, condensed in Reader’s Digest, translated into 15 languages, and called a Christmas Classic by manyreviewers. El Sereno, his latest novel, is a short epic set in Spain with authentic historical background. It took ten years and two trips to Madrid to complete. Visit Jay on the web here.

The following work is Copyright © 2015, and owned by Jay Frankston and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Bread From the Oven

This life we live
is like a field of flowers
and when we are young
we roll on the ground,
smell the grass, watch the ants
and pick a few red poppies
for the color of it.
This life we live
is like a hall of glass
where we see ourselves
reflected in cascading mirrors
and can’t find our way
through the maze.
This life we live
is like a bed full of dreams
where everything is possible
just by closing our eyes
and wishing it.
is like fly paper
where the glue is habit
and procrastination
and insecurity
is like a hurricane
tossing us around,
high winds pushing us back
to unforgiving parents and lovers
is like a roller coaster
of highs and lows
where the happiness seems so short
and the depression so stretched out
it wraps around us like a spider web
and we feel it in our hair
This life we live
is slow at the beginning,
days flow like summers on the beach
and next year is years away,
then it accelerates, the pace increases
and we try to keep up.
And before we know it
it’s all behind us
and in the photo albums
of our memory.
This life we live,
bread from the oven
of the great mother,
kneaded by God
and baked by our parents,
is warm and fresh and crusty
and we feed on it and die. .

 

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