Sethburg Books
“New York Suite 1975
& Selected Poems” By: Seth Ginsburg
Published By: PublishAmerica
112 Pages
Synopsis
As the title implies, this book is both: a) a series of poems that tells
the “story of my life” in New York City during 1975 and b) some of my
favorite compositions written during the following three decades.
The included poems are written about a wide variety of topics that have
attracted my interest. In particular, there are poems celebrating great
Jazz musicians, poems about science, poems with Jewish themes and poems
about personal relationships. Available
At:
PublishAmerica
Amazon.com “New York Suite
1975 & Selected Poems” – Excerpts
Attached, for your reading pleasure (I hope) are a few sample poems from
“New York Suite 1975.”
Meeting Ruby
Smoky little bar
Second show
I looked into the audience
And saw
you
Warm intelligent brown eyes
surrounded by luxuriant black hair
I couldn’t help but stare
At such beauty
I sang nearly every love song I knew
After the set you sat down
I have no idea what we talked about
But I then knew that all the clichés about love are true
And that my life would soon come to revolve around you
The City At Night
From the Staten Island Ferry
Ruins of light
Will remain
Artifacts of neon play for days beyond
Even now
Still strong, but wearing on
Is the shadow of
Redwood trees in sidewalk cracks
When Earth breaks through
I see the fire of our camps
Released from steel and polished glass
Shining out our Spirit’s grid
Suspended lamps’ magnificence
So alive
Like supernovas, deaths of gods
Their significance not yet manifest
The inevitability of oblivion is hidden
In all this quotidian brilliance
So let trumpets shout
That Babylon
Has been regained
And will be lost
Again
Ellis Island
A Poem For My Grandfather
Ellis Island
My forefathers’ Plymouth Rock
Your Victorian fortress red brick towers still stand
Watching the harbor
Waiting for worn men and women
Babushkas and boots
Smelling of garlic and fuel oil
Now almost forgotten
Near the Statue of Liberty
She was the dream
You, the reality
The Lady was an invitation
You were the gate
To crowded Lower East Side streets
Sweatshops/pushcarts
Newspapers/baseball games
She lifted her lamp
To Emma/Jefferson/Whitman/Lincoln
Who spoke of Freedom/Individualism
You misplace names
Checked for lice and socialism
These immigrant/ignorant masses
To be mass-produced into Henry Ford citizens
Free to play a mandolin
Be a sport
Americanize
Court a comely wife
Start a family/start a diner
Make gold dollars in a defense plant
Vote Democratic
FDR
Watch a son go off to war . . .
Now forgotten
In shabby red brick institutions
Old pioneers pass away
Their accents and attitudes
Embarrassments
To self-assured suburban petite bourgeoisie
Now it’s time that
We
The children of their children
From all the nations
Plant a tree on Ellis Island
To bless those who crowded its halls
In hope
Of futures for themselves
For us
At a time
When they had only begun
To understand
The sacred word
“America”
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