Poetry / Poets / Writers / Writing

2 Poems by BZ Niditch

IN OUR AGE *

Assured, high up, big shot
celebrated on earth
with an eternal costume
of royal purple and gold
with medallions
tucked above the vest,
no face is disfigured
while below the earth
a fevered miner emerges
spotted with something
on his lung
through chalky dust
rests on a city bench,
he welcomes
the passerby poet
among the unlisted
and missing persons
in his life time
apprenticed to memory
only a sadness still hovers
to comfort a human face
the guy who works
in the underground belly
now sinking out of reach.

AT SUMMER’S ENDING

In this zig zag life
still breathless for a swim
in our reddish waves
at summer’s ending
its patient first light
by crystal sunny  waters
where a kayak reflects
the cork bottles we throw
overboard into the sea
containing peace wishes
hoping on some muddy shore
a soft glance will lead
these words like shadows
will embark
with our small voices
on earth-wise hooks
to a crisscrossed fate
telling with our eyes
our good will,
perhaps on an infinite voyage
or access by the equator,
between continents
or by a footbridge
children on all fours
at another humid morning
searching for fish or shells,
outstretched to sail
or diving along a salty beach
will discover our note
and bring them peace.

B.Z. NIDITCH is a poet, playwright, fiction writer and teacher.

His work is widely published in journals and magazines throughout the world, including:  Columbia: A Magazine of Poetry and Art; The Literary Review; Denver Quarterly; Hawaii Review; Le Guepard (France); Kadmos (France); Prism International; Jejune (Czech Republic); Leopold Bloom (Budapest);  Antioch Review; and Prairie Schooner, among others.

He lives in Brookline, Massachusetts.

*Inspiration for IN OUR AGE  came from a poem entitled Dear Shannon by Moriah LaChapell about the labor leader  Dave Beck who was President of the Teamsters Union before James Hoffa.  The poem was first published in Silver Birch Press Summer Anthology.

A poem based on a letter composed to my Mother by her Uncle Dave Beck, president of the Teamsters Union before Jimmy Hoffa. Written during 1963 while in prison at McNeil Island Penitentiary for pocketing $1,900 from the sale of a union-owned Cadillac. He was later pardoned by Gerald Ford in 1975. 

Dear Shannon

I received your very nice and most welcome letter
sent to me by you July 18th.
This letter will not arrive on your birthday.
I do however convey to you all my love
and trust you had a very lovely birthday.

You are surely fast becoming a young lady
of twelve years, past the age now
when I can give you the bum’s rush.

It will not be long until I will
have to tip my hat to you
and even perhaps send you
pretty clothes.

Steven and Kevin will both go
to Marymount School.
I would like very much
for you to go away
to a real nice girl’s school.
I am very anxious that you
and all your brothers and sister
attend very good schools
that will prepare you all
for a very fine education.

It is nice of you to say you miss me
and I miss you sweetheart very much.

I am happy you are enjoying your vacation.
You say you have a tan so that means
you have had plenty of sun.
I too hope you enjoy San Francisco.

It was a very great loss for me to lose Dorothy
and to be away from all things
that every day reminded me of her.

I am sure it was good for me.

This letter is not a birthday present
as you requested it to be.
It will not be too long until I will see you
and then we will select a very lovely birthday present.

Be a real nice girl,
I know you attend church regularly
and pray for your Daddy in heaven.
I will close with all my love to you.
It is not necessary to save this letter.

By Moriah LaChapell

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