Poetry by Gershon Hepner

Your answer to intellect is a great crime,
your words are quite empty, as weak as your verse,
I see that you've stolen a lot of my rhyme;
your spirit has failed; you are more than perverse.

If you don't let wisdom for once be your guide
you'll be put to shame both by verse and by prose;
since poetry is like an altar, please hide
private parts that in public you love to expose.

Though Law says that altars should all be of soil,
the one for your poems and prose hewn like stone
you've doubled and doubled and troubled with toil,
like a witch in a dress that the wind has upblown.

The first two quatrains are inspired by Peter Cole's translation of a poem by Solomon Ibn Gabirol (1021/22- c.1057-58) , which may be found on p.85 of The Dream of the Poem: Hebrew Poems from Muslim and Christian Spain 950-1492:

Your answer betrays your transgression,
your words are empty, your verse is weak-
you've stolen a few of my rhymes,
but your spirit failed: you are meek.

Try taking on wisdom's discipline,
instead of poetry's altar and pose:
for as soon as you start your ascent,
your most private parts are exposed.

Although Peter Cole does not point this out, the poem clearly allude to Exod.20: 23: "And you shall not ascend by steps up My altar, so that your nakedness will not be uncovered upon it." My third quatrain is inspired by the verses that precede this, Exod.20: 21-22: "An altar of soil you shall make for Me%u2026And when you make for Me an altar of stones, do not build them hewn, for you will have raised your sword and desecrated it."

10/26/07

We treat with asperity
par for the clerisy
those who alterity
choose, crying "Heresy! "

Inspired by a chapter by Christine Hayes, "The "Other" in Rabbinic Literature, " in The Cambridge Companion To The Talmud and Rabbinic Literature (C. E. Fonrobert, M. S. Jaffee eds. [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,2007],243-69, which she concludes by saying:

Yet the rabbis resist simple dichotomies and locate many gentiles along a spectrum of proximity, as seen in rabbinic discussions of the righteous gentile, the venerator of heaven and the convert. Some others-non-rabbinic Jews of various types-are by birth and culture, heirs to the text but have neglected, distorted, or abandoned it in some way. Because they embody a genuine alternative-an alterity within-the min, the holy man, and the 'am ha'arets pose a unique threat to, and resource for, the rabbinic attempt to construct a stable self.

10/3/07

Using language to create
alternative reality
we may produce a distillate
transcending the causality
that limits us like Newton's laws,
with theocratic gravity,
to motion, lacking time to pause
for signs of abnormality.

Kathryn Harrison reviews The Bad Girl, by Mario Vargas Llosa ("Dangerous Obsession, " NYT, October 14,2007) :
Once upon a time, in a novel by Mario Vargas Llosa, there was a good boy who fell in love with a bad girl. He treated her with tenderness; she repaid him with cruelty. The bad girl mocked the good boy's devotion, criticized his lack of ambition, exploited his generosity when it was useful to her and abandoned him when it was not. No matter how often the bad girl betrayed the good boy, he welcomed her back, and thus she forsook him many times. So it went until one of them died. Do you recognize the story? It's been told before, by Gustave Flaubert, whose Emma Bovary has fascinated Vargas Llosa nearly all his writing life, from his first reading of "Madame Bovary" in 1959, when he had just moved to Paris at the age of 23. In 1986, "The Perpetual Orgy" was published, and it's as much a declaration of Vargas Llosa's love for Emma as a work of literary criticism. Now, in his most recent book, a splendid, suspenseful and irresistible novel, he takes possession of the plot of "Madame Bovary" just as thoroughly and mystically as its heroine continues to possess him. Translated by Edith Grossman with the fluid artistry readers have come to expect from her renditions of Latin American fiction, "The Bad Girl" is one of those rare literary events: a remaking rather than a recycling. The genius of "Madame Bovary, " as Vargas Llosa describes it in "The Perpetual Orgy, " is the "descriptive frenzy %u2026 the narrator uses to destroy reality and recreate it as a different reality." In other words, Flaubert was a master of realism not because he reproduced the world around him, but because he used language to create an alternate existence, a distillate whose emotional gravity transcends that of life itself. Emma, Vargas Llosa reminds us, has survived countless readers. Not merely immortal but undiminished by time, her passions remain as keen as the day her ink was wet.

10/14/07

"Am I too loud? " the man of substance ought
to ask the world, but silence that is good as gold
is rarely a commodity that's bought,
since drowned by volume in a tale that can't be told.

"Am I too silent? " is a question those
whose messages, straight from the heart, are left unsaid,
should ask, because they can't be heard when they expose
their feelings, and transmute the gold to lead.

Inspired by Bernard Holland's review of a Boston Symphony Orchestra concert which included William Bolcom's Eighth Symphony, inspired by the poetry of William Blake ("Blake's Text Write Large and Loud by Bolcom, " NYT, March 5,2008) :
Blake's prophetic books, from which these four movements derive, occupy an invented mythological world grounded by political geography. Shaggy chimerical creatures - fiery, thundering and with flapping wings - are personifications of virtue, villainy, love and danger. Blake, on the other hand, is also talking about the American Revolution and revolutions like it. Side by side with the fabulous and the magical are the down-to-earth references to Africa, Spain, France, Canada, Mexico and Peru, not to mention ancient Rome and Jerusalem. We are given a late-18th-century world atlas of social upheaval presented as a hallucination of heaven and hell. The Eighth Symphony is unashamedly theatrical, and Mr. Bolcom's deep experience and impressive control keep the pot boiling. Such relentless high drama in the hands of huge forces like these could just as easily have run off the tracks, but this is a composer with a singular talent for inflecting words, making them clear and finding just the right orchestral color for the emotion of the moment. If the universal calamities of his first three movements keep our attention, "A Song of Liberty" at the end does something more. With "For every thing that lives is Holy" as the text, rising scales and rich counterpoint in the chorus part create a deeply affirmative ending. Loud though it is, its loudness has substance. I was very moved by it. James Levine conducted. The Tanglewood Festival Chorus, prepared by John Oliver, sang difficult music fearlessly and from memory.

3/5/08

The sin committed by Amalek,
the rabbis say, was mainly phallic.
Midrashically the bible text
describes how Amalekites, when vexed
by Israel, boldly lost their temper
and tried attacking every member
of the Israelites, to prove
not only Israelites remove
the prepuce, primal covenant
with God, a cordial entente
God made with Abraham--rite they
regarded with much great dismay--
they tried to share the prepuce scar
that had become the yellow star
identifying Israelites,
in daytime battle, bed at nights.

They cut the foreskins off, rerouting
their prepuce, like the people doubting
if God, whom many then forgot,
was in the people's midst or not,
and threw them upwards to the sky,
American as apple-pie,
to make Amalek equal to
the Jew, considered parvenu.
Indeed they thought they were the first
of nations, though they were the worst.

A strong force then obsessed Amalek;
inside his head it was, cephalic,
so like the index much abused
by anthropologists once used,
but now discredited. We thank
for this one Dr. Boas, Frank,
who focused on cephalic forces
not mentioned by midrashic sources.
And yet it wasn't genitalia
that proved Amalekites a failure,
but their intractable obsession
with Jews, and thoughts of supersession,
with one religion overtaking
others men should start forsaking.
For some Jews death could be averted
by being forcefully converted;
more common was the wiping out
of Israelites who lived throughout
the world, though scattered as a tribe,
all victims of the diatribe
Amalek codified and later
adopted by one Struwelpeter,
as once in Shushan, till Queen Esther
exposed Jews'Agagite detestor,
administrator of the Mede,
and hater of all Jewish seed,
monarch-minister called Haman,
who was defeated after casting
lots to kill all Jews. By fasting
Queen Esther may have got the Lord's
attention, but His just rewards
aren't always given even to
the ones who fast. In this case you
can't be quite sure why Haman stumbled.
Perhaps the reason why he tumbled
on the Queen's bed while in Shushan
was due to God, behind him pushin'.
Of only one thing we are certain:
the king saw him behind the curtain,
which caused him, horny in the harem,
to die while all the Jews got Purim.

In Nuremberg would later hang
on that same day the ghastly gang
who used no lots to plot in Wannsee--
for Nazis lots were far too chancy.
They ordered Zyklon B, a gas
that killed six million Jews, alas,
preparing, without attribution,
a frightful, final-type solution,
spiritual Amalekites
against whom God says, when He fights,
that He protects His Yahwist throne,
though Israel fears it fights alone,
and won't preemptively attack
once mercy makes its power slack,
though mercy like that of King Saul
comes worse than pride before the fall.

Yet one attack that was preemptive,
in '67 was redemptive.
Although De Gaulle said: "Don't dare force
the issue, " Israel used its air force
to wipe out in the Six Day War
the planes of Egypt just before
the Arab countries all declared
they were united and prepared
to drive the Jews into the ocean.
Preemptive bombing killed this notion,
but all the world then turned against
the country they claimed had commenced
the fighting, and the great redemption
became, because of this preemption,
a cause for resolutions in
United Nations. You can win
a battle, but no war of nerves,
unless you have great oil reserves.

Saul fell because he failed to bag
the chief Amalekite, Agag.
When Samuel heard the sheep were bleating
he scolded Saul who had been cheating--
bleeding heart! He spared the flocks,
and Agag, king, a cunning fox,
and boosted the economy
by breaking Deuteronomy,
refusing to obey the Lord
despite the fact that he had scored
with God's help a great victory;
his acts were contradictory
to Torah laws that are the manual
a king must follow, as per Samuel.
Although he'd once stood head and shoulders
above all Israelite beholders,
he felt too small in his own eyes;
that's why God from him took the prize,
the throne he occupied, and gave it
to Jonathan's best friend, young David,
though Jonathan was heir, as son.
Pathetic dynasty of one,
Saul was by Mordecai redeemed
with Esther, as they double-teamed
to block the shots that Haman aimed
against the people he'd defamed,
for Mordecai and Esther were
from Benjamin, Saulides. Like myrrh
was Mordecai, incense incensed
against Agagites as he fenced.
He beat them at the final whistle,
before the Persians built a missile
whose range can reach Jerusalem,
an act few nations will condemn,
since profit won't prevent a sale
of arms to wipe out Israel.
First came the fatwas, as for Rushdie,
with Esther substitute for Vashti.
Then Haman told Ahasuerus
that Jews were wicked, not God fearers,
and begged him make a Purim gala
to kill them all, the will of Allah.
The Jews went to the synagogue
to pray descendants of Agag--
for Haman was an Agagite,
just like the king Saul wouldn't fight--
from genocidal aims be thwarted,
and hanged and quartered or deported.

Since Haman bungled, he was axed,
and by the orders sent, not faxed,
the Jews were now allowed to slaughter
their foes and gave them little quarter.
But though all Haman's sons were hanged,
Amalekites were not defanged,
for to this day they cry and shout
against the Jews, which is the route
for nations to create consensus.
No honi soit qui mal y penses
regarding Jews who are presumed
to be all guilty till consumed
by water, poison, fire, gas.
Amalekites still live alas:
I won't name names, you ought to know them,
and even if you don't, to loathe them.

After this prolonged detour,
let's now return to Moses, Hur
and Joshua who helped defeat
Amalek in the desert heat
while Moses' arms were skyward raised
as he towards his Maker gazed,
his raised hands proving he had faith,
justifying words that scathe
Amalekites as God's worst foes
and of the treasure that He chose--
the nation Moses bravely served,
although sometimes by them unnerved.

The Israelites had been victorious
with help of God whom they called glorious.
He drowned the riders on their steeds,
pursuing through the Sea of Reeds
the Israelites who'd safely crossed,
while waters high and nethermost
piled up to make a water-wall
that on Egyptians then would fall.
Miraculously they'd divided,
but then returned and woe betided
all of the Egyptian forces,
even riders on their horses.
Once they'd washed up on the shore
the Israelites sang "Nevermore! "
and all believed in God and Moses,
and seemed to have a bed of roses.
"A man of war is God, " they sang
as to their aid Jehovah sprang
at Reed Sea, where He'd ferry them
across dry land. Then Miriam
would sing with Moses, both together
fleeing Egypt hell for leather,
slaves transformed to people-treasure
of the Lord who gave more pleasure
when mysteriously He fed
them manna, like a challah bread
that by the heavens was provided,
while by two pillars they were guided,
of smoke by day that helped to hide them,
and fire in the night to guide them.

Before He gave on Sinai's Mount
commandments, ten at the last count,
they knew theirs' was no bed of roses,
despite the efforts made by Moses.
Their foes with venom envy green,
Amalekites with splanchnic spleen,
surprised them while their hands were lax--
Rephidim--with surprise attacks,
jealous of the close relations
they had with God, as other nations
would later like Amalek be.
This is the theme of history
that plagues the Jewish people ever,
however often they chant "Never
again! " Amalek's racist sinning
was of such hatred the beginning.

Though Hur and Joshua and Moses
defeated them, the horrid process
of hating Jews has still not ended,
most nations being much offended
by God's choice of the Israelites,
because He gave them from the heights
of Sinai His most binding treaty
despite their enemies' entreaty
that He not as His people choose
a nation that would all be Jews,
together with the special laws
that of their hatred are one cause:
for every nation has its quarrels
with Jews who brought them Torah morals.
This, reinterpreted by them,
has caused them always to condemn
the people who first heard God's voice,
and wish He'd made another choice.
Hating Jews is still in fashion,
witness movies of the Passion.
In France today Jew-haters thrive,
next year Jew hate will be alive
in other countries, it's a rule
without exceptions, though most cruel,
false Zion Elders Protocols
more published than the Dead Sea Scrolls,
though by police in Russia written
for pogroms in which Jews were smitten.
Amalekites, alive and well,
will not withdraw into their shell
like Jews, who always must endure 'em,
remembering each year on Purim
and on the Sabbath with the reading
of the law read just preceding
the Purim feast, some days before,
the Sabbath that is called Zakhor,
a word commanding them "Remember,
from January until December,
and highlight boldly in italic:
you are the targets of Amalek! "

3/26/06

Very fine pens, like very fine people,
are often amazingly useless;
you must use broad brushes and stand on a steeple
to prove that, like God, you are ruthless.

He's useles as well, though it's quite amazing
to mention this fact, which is rotten,
but must be remembered by those who stand gazing
towards Him, though He has forgotten.

"Very fine pens, like very fine people, are sometimes amazingly useless, " VAn Gogh wrote to a friend in 1883. He believed his tools had to be coarse, like his subjects, to capture empathic feeling.

12/2/05

His dentist holds the pitchfork and
the mask he promised him
fools no one in the Gothic land,
the paradigm of grim
beside his sister, who can't smile,
too proper and too prim,
a hymn book, more repressed by bile
than toothless cherubim.

7/12/05

If you think the music may collapse
and die on you like grandpa did,
you are a pessimist who should perhaps
forget the blues and sing to rid
yourself of premonitions that are dreary
and think more positively now,
and purr contentedly while feeling cheery
because you are the cat's meow.
Hello there, Miss American great pie,
you are the one whom I love most;
come join me, for your music will not die,
here where the sun sets on the coast.

7/5/05

Une amitié amoureuse
between my cat and me
while she sits on my lap and purrs
denotes a love that's free
of competition with the rest
of others whom we may desire,
for neither wishes to contest
the right that each has to aspire
to other lovers in liaisons,
though amoureuse our friendship knows
that every heart has got its raisons,
as every garden has its rose.

Alan Riding writes about Charles Aznavour in the NYT, September 18,2006 ("At 82, Charles Aznavour Is Singing a Farewell That Could Last for Years") :
When he began, though, he was almost the youngest of the crooners who made the chanson française popular in the postwar years. And to his good fortune, it was Édith Piaf, the legendary "little sparrow, " who took him under her wings: in time they came to enjoy what he calls "une amitié amoureuse" - an amorous friendship - which, he said, "means more than friendship and less than love. It was a time when the smoke-filled clubs and theaters of the Paris Left Bank were bursting with talent. Maurice Chevalier was already an international star, but new voices were gaining a following, among them Georges Brassens, Jacques Brel, Léo Ferré, Yves Montand, Gilbert Bécaud, Charles Trenet and Juliette Gréco. (Of these only Ms. Gréco is still alive and, at 79, very occasionally performing.) Mr. Aznavour had one strong card. This short, wiry son of Armenian immigrants (his real surname is Aznavourian) had a talent for writing lyrics that echoed the language and sentiments of ordinary people. And long before his husky tenor became as recognizable as that of, say, Brassens or Bécaud, he won a place in their circle as a songwriter. Even now, while best known around the world as a singer (he has also appeared in more than 50 French movies) , Mr. Aznavour considers himself first and foremost a songwriter: he starts with the words, and only later does he or another composer add the melody and rhythm. For him the chanson française is quite simply the art of telling stories to music.

9/18/06

Amphictyon was the first to mix
his wine with just a little water;
all drinks have water in the sticks
but I prefer them to have them shorter.

To Scotch and vodka many add
some water or a tonic,
which I consider very bad,
although Amphictyonic.

Amphictyon, son of Ducalia and Pyrrha, seized the throne of Attica and was the first man to mix water with wine.

© 1999