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Arlene Rubenstein Poem
Hate, Take Your Rest
Hate,
take your rest
or best,
eliminate
if you can.
And, you can.
Your efforts
like stinging bees
could never please
water of life is
drowned by your
smoldering mastery
then all is lost.
Hate,
are you not weary now?
is there a way somehow
for love to replace you?
she is there, beside you.
Your coffin will char
then it’s too late
to find
your way
out of
the blackness
you will scratch and claw
for forgiveness.
Hate,
drain the poison
or drink it.
whichever you choose,
take your final rest.
Copyright © Arlene Rubenstein | Year Posted 2021
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Details |
Arlene Rubenstein Poem
Red Gems
A middle-aged man in an old wheelchair
moves slowly and with determination.
On a crowded street filled with happy tourists’ feet
his arms look as if
they’d finished an Olympic race.
Since he has no legs, he cradles his wares
between lap and chest.
Today he sells tiny bracelets and anklets.
I pass him gingerly, bearing an awkward smile.
A half-block down, my conscience stops me.
I return to him
crouch down to meet him
pick out an anklet
hand him 40 pesos
his eyes glisten.
Why didn’t I ask his name?
Weeks later, this anklet still
adorns my smooth white skin.
I so love these plastic, shiny
ruby-red gems
held together by tough black string.
Copyright © Arlene Rubenstein | Year Posted 2023
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