Pablo Neruda

Lemon slices background

A Lemon

Out of lemon flowers
on the moonlight, love’s
lashed and insatiable
sodden with fragrance,
the lemon tree’s yellow
the lemons
move down
from the tree’s planetariumDelicate merchandise!
The harbors are big with it-
for the light and the
barbarous gold.
We open
the halves
of a miracle,
and a clotting of acids
into the starry
original juices,
irreducible, changeless,
so the freshness lives on
in a lemon,
in the sweet-smelling house of the rind,
the proportions, arcane and acerb.Cutting the lemon
the knife
leaves a little cathedral:
alcoves unguessed by the eye
that open acidulous glass
to the light; topazes
riding the droplets,
aromatic facades.So, while the hand
holds the cut of the lemon,
half a world
on a trencher,
the gold of the universe
to your touch:
a cup yellow
with miracles,
a breast and a nipple
perfuming the earth;
a flashing made fruitage,
the diminutive fire of a planet.

Eve Brandstein

Between Jacob & Benjamin

Between Jacob and Benjamin

In the kitchen in the middle of the night

between two bedrooms

my son sleeps in one, my father in the other

while my concern moves between

his limp & his lunch

his repetitions & his why

his criticism & his acceptance

his love & his love.

These two men eighty years apart

& me in the middle

between answers still asking questions

wanting to be understood & getting told what to do

telling my son its time to go & being told I shouldn’t by my father.

In the middle of the night in the kitchen

I peel an apple

watching 4 AM traffic 21 floors below Queens Boulevard

so far away from my home in California

& my birth in Eastern Europe

the end of his story

the beginning of his

worried awake by some haunting

or something I haven’t done

being in the middle of everything

the night

the passage

the place between these two men.

I eat the apple bit by bit

without a sound the traffic slips

into the middle of summer

I hear him stir & him snore

& watch the morning amber press against the cobalt

finally feeling the sleep I need

ready for surrender

I leave the last of skin and seeds

on the table in the kitchen

between parent & child.

– Eve Brandstein

Fruit for Thought…


Photo by L.K. Thayer

“The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the month of September. Shelley flourished in the hot months. Some poets, like Wordsworth, have gone outdoors to work. Others, like Auden, keep to the curtained room. Schiller needed the smell of rotten apples about him to make a poem. Tennyson and Walter de la Mare had to smoke. Auden drinks lots of tea, Spender coffee; Hart Crane drank alcohol. Pope, Byron, and William Morris were creative late at night. And so it goes.”
― Helen Bevington

Bob’s Espresso Bar – Poetry Reading – Sunday Oct. 27th 2:00PM!

Espresso Coffee photo: Espresso coffee nh0457.jpg

Bob’s Espresso Bar
5251 Lankershim Bl.
No. Hollywood, CA 91601
which is located between Magnolia and Weddington on Lank. right across the street from the NoHo 7 movie theatre. Bob is an actor-singer-songwriter who owns the coffee house, and it’s a really warm vibe in this little place.
Third, I am inviting you to come and see me read! The event will be hosted by my poet friends Radomir Luza and Jessica Wilson, both excellent writers, as well as mainstays in the writer open mike scene here in Los Angeles. this will take place Sunday, October 27th, from 2-4 in the afternoon.
Four, this is an Open Mike venue, a great opportunity for Jack grapes students to read your writing to the public! It’s a creative crowd that comes into this place, will give you a chance to meet an audience and woo them!(Woo….wooo, waaah….yaha, yaha ) it’s easy, see you stand in place, relax, and say what ya gotta say, baby!
So come on down! It’d be great to see everybody, and a chance for us all to catch up! See you there and
Lotsa Love, Joe
Also Reading:
L.K. Thayer
Alexis Fancher
Joe Kennedy
Liz Netto
Angela Cohan