LYN LIFSHIN : Mama Land
LYN LIFSHIN : Mother's Birthday Cake
DAVID NOVAK : O, Holy Star
POETRYREPAIRS v11.12:134
contemporary international poetry - for your reading pleasure,
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Mama Land Mother's Birthday Cake O, Holy Star  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ <18Big Fish

LYN LIFSHIN
Mama Land - contents
v11.02:013
||| Desperately Forgetting She's Dead
||| When Mother's Hair Grew Long, Lush on IV

v11.02:014
||| On What Would Be Mother's 94th Real Birthday
||| After 15 Years

v11.02:015
||| Someone Said You'd Know If One Siamese Twin Dies
||| At the Coffee Table at Boston Science Museum

v11.02:016
||| In Her Last Days Kept Saying She was Going Somewhere Different
||| Finally Got Some Whistles

v11.02:017
||| May 25
||| Door Mat

v11.02:018
||| Mother's Birthday Cake
||| Better to Just Let it Go

v11.02:019
||| Daisies Mama on the Day of Your Birth
||| Ring

v11.02:020
||| Mother's Birthday Cake Cake
||| The Way You Know

v11.02:021
||| PHOTOGRAPH
||| Afternoon Again in Apple Trees

v11.02:022
||| MY Parents' Anniversary
Images, the Faces, My Sister's Eyes

v11.02:023
||| The Aloneliness Dream
||| For Weeks, Dreaming of My Mother

v11.02:024
||| AD/review for LYN LIFSHIN'S BALLROOM<
||| Mama, This isn't Your Best Birthday Is It!

POETRYREPAIRS 11.12:134
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Mama Land Mother's Birthday Cake O, Holy Star  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ <18Big Fish

LYN LIFSHIN
Mother's Birthday Cake

like the earth, my
mother had no memory
of cakes. The way
disaster leaves no sign,
ferns covering
lava, the outline of
graves, a 9 year old
camouflaged, my mother
forgot any hint of a crumb
of a cake, refused to
believe she had one.
She may never have for
gotten the woman who
stole her knife or how my
sister tried to intervene.
But to my mother,
her birthday cakes
didn't exist, were as
absent as she imagined
any flaws were in me
		
         
2.

"I've never had a birthday
cake hone," she shook
her head the 6th year in a
row I've ordered a chocolate
one. My mother, who could
remember which man I dated
was circumcised, if my
period was late, insists, 
"no, never a birthday cake."
Those longed for cakes, 
lovers there could never
be enough to fill her		
POETRYREPAIRS 11.12: 134
Poetry endangers the established order  of the soul - Plato




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Mama Land Mother's Birthday Cake O, Holy Star  
POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+ <18Big Fish

DAVID NOVAK
O, Holy Star
From The Soulıs Refinement (c) 1996
O, Holy star of Bethlehem, upon The night of Jesusı birth--how blessed were they Who witnessed the coming of the Son As earthwards Mercy cast its healing ray. Lord, how was mankind blessed, upon that day That Thine own son, the Christ so-called, was sent To bring redemption and to show the way To life eternal, in this firmament. Father, he spake a simple truth: forgive, And love each other, but to be like children, Easy to preach, but much harder to live, When man puts more faith in some witches cauldron Instead of Gospel truth. Yet Jesus showed By his example, how to walk the road. The road of sacrifice, that has been cobbled By many brothers of the Christian fame, Both saints and martyrs, though they all but hobbled Or though mankind remember not their name. Lord, let us take the cross, and let us claim The Son as Savior, as we follow them Upon the road in which there is no shame In worshipping the child of Bethlehem. Lord, Godhead condescended in the person Of Jesus, that his mercy might descend Upon the earth; heal harms which but did worsen At manıs attempts to falsify, pretend. That was a day of blessing, wholly blessed The sum of Thy creation, worse and best. The worst of men, although he be a sinner, May find redemption in the holy church Erected in the heart; though for his dinner He begged or stole, he werenıt left in the lurch. The deepest, darkest heart, if man but search May find a place, for God to welcome in Redemption-by-forgiveness, to besmirch His fettered soul no longer, but cleanse sin. Lord, many saints and martyrs, prophets too Have heeded and received Thy mercy, even Enlightened statesmen (though they have been few), For whom I pray there be reward in heaven. None find exclusion, but Thy mercy finds All men whom take Thee into hearts and minds . Three wise men came with gifts, but let us not Grotesquely make of these, merely a token The sum of all our worship, while the lot Of men heed not the words Jesus had spoken . Ah, Lord, while men and women wrap or open Their Christmas gifts, I cannot help but ask Thee if the Christian spirit has been broken By such diversions from the soulıs true task? Lord, we were meant, who go so far to call Ourselves the name of Christians, but to carry Our cross to Calvary--no goods withal So valuable to make us linger, tarry. Three wise men came, and them we imitate Who Jesusı birth with gifts commemorate. There is no harm in gifts, O Lord, a token Of kinship whereby we in Christ are bonded, But so exaggerated, Lord, an oaken Though damasked casket fits the faith he founded. Lord, Christian faith, if it has not been grounded In principle of him the Living Word, Will see the Gospel message but confounded As if no special miracle occurred. Ah, miracle of birth! That Thou didst love The world enough to send Thy Son to us-- While still men cry Thou dost not love enough-- Yet let me not be one to fume and fuss. If Jesus Christ, the Word, is not translated In living hearts, the message be outdated. That miracle of birth, beneath that star! Which represents the luminary of Our Lord on that day born; when from afar There rode three kings, who gave their gifts in love. Such love! But if in giving we remove The heartfelt sentiment, or we forget What we commemorate, then we may rove In pagan lands, nor find salvation yet. King of the Jews, they wrote; and yet he said His kingdom were not of this world, or else The armies of his faithful beloved Would have protected him; which statement quells The ardent claims we make in calling our- Selves Christian who but seek for wealth and power. Lord, earthly wealth and power! There be kings Who steep themselves in indolence and pleasure, Hereditary joy which neither brings Themselves a conscience clean, nor soul at leisure. Lord, there be men, who gaze upon the treasure Of wealth accumulated, over years Of banditry, deceit, who fear Thy measure On Judgement Day, yet no one quells their fears. Ah, Lord, so many set their store by wealth As if a hoard of shekels were the key To lifeıs longevity and bodyıs health, As if those were the sum of mystery. Lord, I believe, as so the Bible saith, That man must live not by sight but by faith. Faith, practice, perseverance, these have been My only prop, when it seemed that against Me raged the world; when I succumbed to sin So vile I knew not how the sin commenced. Yet, Father, though my true way had been fenced By obstacles, obstruction, yet I find My heart is tranquil, mind all not incensed By anger when with Christ I am aligned. Lord Jesus, I who have succumbed to hate And to vindictive anger many times, Have borne my cross, although it seems the weight Was carried most by Thee, despite my crimes. Saints, prophets, martyrs! Lord, in my small part, Let me be Christian, with unsullied heart.
POETRYREPAIRS 11.12: 134
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Mama Land Mother's Birthday Cake O, Holy Star
Mama Land TOP  Mama Land İ  LYN LIFSHIN  .
Mother's Birthday Cake MID   Mother's Birthday Cake İ  LYN LIFSHIN,  .
O, Holy Star] BTM  O, Holy Star İ  DAVID NOVAK  .appears in poetryrepairs v01:12. Unique use of the sonnet form: each stanza is a sonnet; is its nine stanza length signifying the "hiegest One" - 9 is the highest/greatest number before two digits must be used.
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