12 Poets in "Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy and Wisdom" edited by Maja Trochimczyk

 

Crystal Fire. Poems of Joy & Wisdom

 ISBN 978-1-945938-57-3 (color hardcover)

 ISBN 978-1-945938-58-0 (color paperback)

 ISBN 978-1-945938-59-7 (eBook) 

https://moonrisepress.com/crystal-fire-anthology.html

It has been a real pleasure and a joy to gather poems, edit the anthology, and organize events to promote this collection of positive poetry in our chaotic times. Illustrated with paintings by Ambika Talwar, the “Crystal Fire” anthology gathers poems of joy and wisdom by 12 poets, 8 women and 4 men: Elżbieta Czajkowska, Joe DeCenzo, Mary Elliott, Jeff Graham, Marlene Hitt, Frederick Livingston, Alice Pero, Allegra Silberstein, Jane Stuart, Ambika Talwar, Bory Thach, and Maja Trochimczyk. 

The poets span all ages and diverse life experiences. They include émigrés from Poland, Cambodia, and India, and those born in the U.S. College professors join community poets. Native speakers appear alongside those for whom English is the second, or even the third language. The ”joy and wisdom” they write about are also different, as each poet follows their own path and gathers unique reflections to share with their readers. The spectacular cover art and paintings to start each section are by poet Ambika Talwar, a talented painter and poet.

Mary Elliott, Bory Thach, Marlene Hitt, Alice Pero, Joe DeCenzo, Ambika Talwar and Maja Trochimczyk at the Opening Reception and Reading of the Sky Garden Exhibition, October 16, 2022, Scenic Drive Gallery, Monrovia. 

In the Preface, I described the inspiration and philosophy of the book as follows: 

"The title of this anthology comes from my poem “The Year of Crystal Fire” written at the end of a very long and convoluted love story that has a lot to do with the ancient Chinese legends of nine-tailed foxes. Initially, the title of this anthology was to be The Year of Crystal Fire, just like the poem, but why limit ourselves to just one year? The phrase of “Crystal Fire” may be seen as the  symbol of all humanity, with each person born from the union of man and woman, the male and female DNA strands interlocking in ever new patterns to create human beings. In this phrase, "Crystal" stands for the feminine and “Fire” for the masculine. “Crystal” is peaceful, somewhat static, but well-constructed, stable, and growing slowly into perfection. It is the cosmos of order and being. Remember, only women give birth (though some want to construct artificial wombs and detach humanity from its roots). In contrast, "Fire" is dynamic, sometimes intensely dramatic, always changing, always transforming, constantly in the state of flux. It is the energy of change and growth. It is also destructive, demolishing  solid structures of the past to make room for the new. “Fire” means destruction and becoming. It is pure chaos." 

"The Universe arises from the dance of these twin forces, like yin and yang, but neither is pure darkness, negative and “evil” and neither is pure light, positive, and “good.” Instead, they are the ageless vortex  of cosmic unity and chaos, of creation and destruction. There is no value assigned to this polarity, for such labels are limiting and deceptive. Both aspects are essential, each  cannot exist without its twin. Both are good AND evil, both are positive AND negative. ”Good and positive” when coupled with the other. “Evil and negative” when alone. These are the polar opposites of stagnation and decline—or constant movement and the total destruction of all life. The feminine elements of "earth" and "water" endlessly dance with the masculine elements of “air” and “fire.” Do you agree with me?"

My poems are listed and a sample poem is copied below.                                                                

 

Blue Arches by Ambika Talwar, from Crystal Fire anthology.

 

Maja Trochimczyk ≈ 127

1.      The Year of Crystal Fire  ≈  128

2.      A Black Velvet Butterfly  ≈  129

3.      Repeat After Me  ≈  130

4.      The Infinity Room  ≈  132

5.      Pelicans   ≈  134

6.      Liquid Opal  ≈  135

7.      The School of Birds  ≈  136

8.      Alchemy in the Hills  ≈  137

9.      The Stillness of Trees  ≈  138

10.   Imagine a Star… ≈  139

11.   Arbor Cosmica  ≈  140

12.   Like Grapes on a Vine  ≈  142

13.   A Starchild’s Lesson  ≈  143

14.   Today Is for Us  ≈  144

 The Year of Crystal Fire 

Soft patter of pink rose petals

falling onto the floor. The scent of French Perfume

in the air. The heartbeat  stops. The world ceases its rotations.

 

I see the light in your eyes shining

through the slit in your motorcycle helmet,

as you pass me on the street. In a millisecond

of recognition you take me in—whole,

serene in turquoise and aqua—then, you look away

far into the past we shared so shamelessly,

beyond measure—

             the year of passion

             the year of dogs that brought us together

             the year of longing

             the year of dolphins dancing on salty waves

             the year of absence

             the year of waiting in darkness 

the year of tiger lilies

the year of nine-tailed foxes—

                             smooth with seduction and delight

 

Yes, I liked that year the most—

as we grew into our demonic, daimonic selves,

created new galaxies, parallel universes

out of our other-worldly love.

Timelines shift.

The cosmic windows

keep opening and closing.

Soft patter of pink rose petals

on the flying carpet takes me into

            the year of passion

            the year of tiger lilies

            the year of diamond kites

soaring above hilltops

            the year of stardust

            the year of crystal fire

The other poems are listed, along with a copy of the preface on Moonrise Press blog. 

https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-publishes-crystal-fire.html

More poems from the anthology are featured in a post about the exhibition:

https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html

At the opening of the Sky Garden Exhibition with two books and photographs in the background. Scenic Drive Gallery, Monrovia, CA.

Poems from the Crystal Fire anthology and from the Bright Skies collection were presented at two readings at Scenic Drive Gallery in Monrovia, California. The readings were to mark the opening on October 16, 2022 and closing on November 20, 2022 of an exhibit of Ambika Talwar's paintings from Crystal Fire and my photographs from Bright Skies. The exhibition, entitled "Sky Garden" and curated by Susan Dobay, presented just 12 paintings and 12 photographs, but gave rise to a series of events, including two poetry readings from the books. The exhibition was also visited by singer, guitarist and song-writer Piotr Kajetan Matczuk of Poland, who gave there a mini-concert. 

https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/09/moonrise-press-and-scenic-drive-gallery.html

https://moonrisepress.blogspot.com/2022/11/sky-garden-exhibition-closing-on.html

Maja Trochimczyk with Piotr Matczuk at Sky Garden Exhibition, 5 November 2022

Poet Bory Thach, included in the anthology and participating in the readings, shared the following comment about the book and readings: "I really appreciate everything that you do for the arts, especially how you strive to be fair and include everyone through well-deserved recognition.  It's great to be surrounded by such positive poets with a wide variety of perspectives and insights that can be shown through their poetry.  Being a writer I always try to learn something from every artist that I meet.  The best part about our group is that I get to read amazing works by different authors, experience their views as well as fresh images and new ways of looking at the world.  As a result, I have the privilege of gaining valuable knowledge and wisdom.  All because I encountered so many poetic pieces as your editor.  I'm just grateful to be able to take away at least one thing every time I open a book.  It is like a step closer to enlightenment!"

Joe DeCenzo, Elzbieta Czajkowska, Susan Dobay, Maja Trochimczyk and Bory Thach at the Closing Reception of the Sky Garden Exhibition, November 20, 2022.

Poetic and Musical Farewell to Endre Dobay, Susan's Bandi

Endre Dobay with Susan Dobay's painting Musicscape

On March 12, 2016, poets, artists, musicians, and friends gathered at the Scenic Drive Gallery in Monrovia for a farewell and memorial event dedicated to Endre Dobay, husband of eminent Hungarian-American artist, Susan Dobay, and co-owner of the Gallery.

The invitation said: "The versatile, talented, kind, compassionate, humble, husband of Susan, father of Vivian and Andrew, and the grandfather of Geoffrey and Mathew has moved to another dimension.
A mechanical engineer, a family man, and a supporter of all art forms which he respected and loved . With his wife artist Susan he was the proprietor of the Scenic Drive Gallery."

Portrait of Andrew by his mother, Susan, print by his father, Endre, with Jean Sudbury's violin

Photo by Maja Trochimczyk

Endre's prints of his wife's works and of the works by Kathabela Wilson were on display along with a selection of exhibition catalogues that he created for Susan. The artist also selected some family photos and those from among her paintings that were Endre's favorites. Guests brought flowers, poems and cards, some handmade, some carefully selected to express their appreciation for the many gifts of Endre, our Bandi.

The poetic and musical afternoon started with Jean Sudbury, violin, and Rick Wilson, Hungarian folk flute, performing a selection of music to set the audience in a nostalgic yet celebratory mood. Rick accompanied the poets throughout the reading, and Jean played more pieces that would have gladdened Endre's heart. Penelope Torribio accompanied herself on a guitar in two songs; Pauli Dutton sang away to the accompaniment of a red ukulele, and poets shared their reflections about this "kindest of men."  Some of the poems are reproduced below, with permission of the poets, to honor the memory of a silent, thoughtful, and kind man, loved by all.

For dear Bandi, a Prelude

youngest boy
middle child of nine
sent to family
for the summer
when I grow up,  he said
“I want to be a guest”

he was the best host
he welcomed us
with his eyes
took my face
in his hands and filled
our glasses with love

I send a thousand noisy kisses
out into the universe
for another hello

Bandi I could  only write a prelude
an overture
to the opera you loved
an opening act of many
I wish to write for you
it is all we can do in this time of ours
our many beginnings--

there is no end to love
to this romantic story
how we are always only starting
to learn our lines
yours to us, ours to you
"we are so fortunate
to have you in our lives!"

~Kath Abela Wilson
your “Katika”

Endre Dobay

by Pauli Dutton

Susan’s mom started it all
when she noticed the young man
she asked him 
you not like my pretty daughter?
why you not ask her to dance?

the handsome college boy
took the young beauty
in his arms 
their waltz began sixty years
of acreativelove filled life

when she turned 19
Endre and Susan married 
daringly the twoleft 
their homeland to walk
across the Hungarian border

with other refugees they 
took a train to Austria
the pair settled in the states
where Endre worked as 
a mechanical engineer

Susan says Endre
could build anything
with her inspiration
they built a home
for their family and the arts

the Scenic Galley
has celebrated sculptors
photographers, writers
painters and musicians
while host Endre poured the wine

Susan was the motor 
that kept Endre running
through every new
creative project
they complemented one other

Susan the artist found
loving support through Endre
photographer/printer
the sound wiz helped her create 
new forms of media

their joint visual
interpretations of music
can now be enjoyed 
by all on youtube
thanks to Endre

Endre we know you continue
to watch over Susan 
as your love still fills the gallery
we hear your echo asking
would you like another glass?

 Bandi and Susan listen to a reading by Just Kibbe, Monrovia, 2012

Bandi

camera suspended from his neck
gentle brown eyes search the room
to catch light and shadows
arrangements of colorful art
and us -- his friends
he had many

by Erika Wilk

Jean Sudbury, Kathabela Wilson, Endre Dobay and Maja Trochimczyk, 2012

The man I did not know

    ~ for Endre Dobay in memoriam

I did not know the boy –
That tall, serious teen, always reading
Books, or fixing bikes of local children

I did not know the man –
What happened?why he left his home 
Who died? … I did not know
The man who fell in love, married, 
had children –  a son and daughter. . . 
All in the new country,  in a new house, 
Nested on the slope of a magnificent mountain 
Where bears wander down the streets
And take baths in neighbors’ swimming pools, 
Where mocking birds, sing away tunes 
Stolen from car alarms and clock chimes, 
And birds sometimes sit quietly in the branches 
Of the old hibiscus outside the kitchen window
Watching him work.

Yes, the charming one – his eyes spoke volumes 
Even if his mouth did not move
Except for that hint of a smile in the corner –
Yes, I knew Susan’s husband
Silent, supportive, quietly amused
By the poets’ antics.

I knew Bandi of talented artist’s hands, 
Deep philosopher’s insights. I remember him
Watching over us, filming dialogues, 
Seeking goodness , beauty, truth –

Now he found it and we lost him for  a bit, 
Until we find our own goodness and beauty
In the everlasting truth – when we join him 
In the light that draws us nearer 
As it drew him into that brilliant column  
Stretching straight up into heaven 
Taking him higher, higher –
Into the constellation of the blessed

© 2016 by Maja Trochimczyk

Bandi and Susan attend my presentation at the Wilsons' salon, December 2011

I also read my poem inspired by Susan's painting "City Whispers" from the "Awakenings" project of Poets on Site. I got a print of that painting made by Bandi and it is on the wall in my house.  The poem with an image of the painting, published in "On Awakenings" book edited by Kathabela Wilson is reproduced in my Easter 2011 post. 

At the end, I read my participatory poem, "Repeat after me" with a revised ending. I reproduced the previous version of the poem on the blog from this spring, from a reading with Beverly M. Collins at Phoenix House.  http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2016/03/black-history-month-at-phoenix-house.html

Daffodils, tulips, roses and lilac for Bandi and Susan

Almost the last to arrive and the last to read was poet and light-giver Susan Rogers, who wrote out her poem on a card with a drawing of the tree, as strong and solid as Bandi was, an oak or a banyan tree with deep roots in the earth and the branches reaching out to heaven. 

Poem by Susan Rogers, with her drawing of a banyan tree.

Collection of photos of Bandi assembled by Susan Dobay.

For more photographs from the Celebration of Life event visit my Picasa Web Album: 

Endre Dobay Memorial 2016.

Finally, here's a report from the Celebration of Life assembled by 

an artist and musician, Penelope Torribio and published on YouTube:

Poets at Madame Butterfly event at the Scenic Drive Gallery, with Mariko Kitakubo, Photo by Endre Dobay, 2014

Thank you, Bandi! 

The Summer of Editing Ends with the Butterfly and Edgar Allan Poet

My poetry had to take second place to my music history passions. I finally agreed to edit the second version of William Smialek's Chopin - A Research and Information Guide, first published by Routledge in 1999 and by now the fourth most popular book on Chopin in the world. The trouble is that Chopin research has grown exponentially since that time, so it is crucial to keep it up to date. This is why for the last two months, I wrote nothing but book records, with ISBNs,  ML signatures, page numbers, contents, and descriptions for over 1000 books and articles about Chopin. Fun! This explains my long absence from this page.

POETS ON SITE PRESENT SUSAN DOBAY'S MADAME BUTTERFLY PROJECT

I had fun with poetry, too. The anthology-in-progress by Poets on Site dedicated to Susan Dobay's Madame Butterfly project has resulted in a wonderful event last week. Japanese poet Mariko Kitakubo graced the halls with the poetry in Japanese and English. Other poets read their work published in a chapbook "Madame Butterfly" edited by indefatigable Kathabela Wilson.

The Scenic Drive Gallery in Monrovia was the site of this artistic feast on September 13, 2014, and it was not only decorated with the amazing art of Susan Dobay, inspired by Puccini's opera Madame Butterfly, but also allowed us to watch her Visual Interpretations of Music, inspired by Butterfly.

You can watch it here (if it works), if not go to YouTube:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-IHDZsLzdpA




The artwork was previously on display in a solo show by Dobay at the Shumei Center in Pasadena, but the airy interior of the gallery with its white walls and diagonal shafts of sunlight served it very well, indeed. Our group included Rick Wilson who accompanied the poets on Japanese shakuhachi and Kathabela Wilson with Mariko Kitakubo played Japanese percussion. It was a truly inspired and inspiring reading.  A great chain of inspiration: story - music - opera - artwork - visual interpretation of the art - poetry - performance...

AN ART-INSPIRED ANTHOLOGY, EDGAR ALLAN POET NO. 2

As if one amazing poetry event was not enough, I got a notice from Editor Apryl Skiles that she finished the work on the online free version of the second Edgar Allan Poet Anthology. I'm honored to have a poem about two paintings by Vincent Van Gogh in this astounding volume ("The Alchemist Tree in Winter"). You will love it even more, as you will be turning the pages of this amazing treat!

http://edgarallanpoet.com/Edgar_Allan_Poet_2.html

And here's the Editor's Introduction and the List of Poets.  What a great artistic community!

INTRODUCTION

Edgar Allan Poe was an American author, literary critic, storyteller, and poet who left this realm October 07, 1849. Since his tragic and mysterious demise this literary recluse has become an iconic historical figure. Is this because his writing was so remarkable or because the idea of Poe and what he presented to readers is that of intrigue and mystery, or a touch of both?

Many readers may say that his storytelling far exceeds the merit of his poetry. Those who are widely familiar with his work would consider that a fair argument. Those less familiar with his extensive collection of work may “Quoth the Raven, Nevermore…”, but then there are poems such as “Alone”, written with such timbre and cadence they become a songful hypnotic.

Literature has evolved with its readers, and poetry in particular has swayed from traditional meter, and rhyme, towards a more contemporary free-verse or prose to a great degree. However, the world seems to be gravitating toward a new era, an era of poetic renaissance.

It is the intention of the Editor to carry on the celebration of literature, and art as a whole. Poetry exists in all creative mediums, it is the atom of all art. It is the very foundation of inspiration, whether derived from words, images, or music. Once this realization is presented in any form, all things are possible.

The literature and art contained within this collective are chosen to present to the reader a wide array of voices and visions based on the themes of music, art, and philosophy. Sincere appreciation is extended to Colleen McLaughlin for the beautiful painting “Cello, my Love”, which truly pulls together these themes with the very emotive expression of the muse and the bold, melodic color palette.

In addition, this collection includes poetry, prose, short fiction, and artwork by artists, and writers from all edges of the world. While this collection as a whole is one created in heart-fire, it would not be complete without sincere gratitude to the following individuals: Alexis Fancher, Angel Uriel Perales,Barbara H. Moore, Danny Baker, David Imapoet McIntire, E. L. Elazar Larry Freifeld, Hank Beukema, JR Phillips, Lois Michal Unger Freifeld, Marie Lecrivain, Martin Willitts Jr., Rick Stepp-Bolling, Chicory Poetry, and never lastly, Will Crawford.

Please visit www.EdgarAllanPoet.com for more on these and other prolific contemporaries.

Alexis Fancher
adrian ernesto C E P E D A
angela consolo M A N K I E W I C Z
angel uriel P E R A L E S
anne T A M M E L
annette marie H Y D E R
april michelle B R A T T E N
b.j. B U C K L E Y
barbara h. M O O R E
bryan S T O R Y
carl S C H A R W A T H
carolyn Z I E L
catfish M C D A R I S
cindy W E I N S T E I N
colleen M C L A U G H L I N
cristina U M P F E N B A C H - S M Y T H
daniel n. F L A N A G A N
danny B A K E R
david f. M A R S E E
david M C I N T I R E
debbie L E E
diane D E H L E R
e.l. F R E I F E L D
eli S P I VAK O V S K Y
emily F E R N A N D E Z
faith M I N G U S
felix A L V A R E Z
francesca C A S T A Ñ O
gabor g. G Y U K I C S
gordon H I L G E R S
heidi D E N K E R S
hélène C A R D O N A
j.r. P H I L L I P S
j.t. W I L L I A M S
jan S T E C K E L
janet S N E L L
jesse M I N K E R T
jonathan T A Y L O R
joseph S A L E
judith S K I L L M A N
kevin m. H I B S H M A N
leanne H U N T
leila a. F O R T I E R
lois michal U N G E R
lynn B R O N S T E I N
maja T R O C H I M C Z Y K
marian W E B B
marie L E C R I V A I N
melissa S T U D D A R D
micheál Ó C O I N N
michael wayne H O L L A N D
michael F O L D E S
raquel R E Y E S – L O P E Z
rich F O L L E T T
rick S T E P P – B O L L I N G
rizwan saeed A H M E D
scott c. K A E S T N E R
steven H A R T M A N
susan m. B O T I C H
terrence S Y K E S
thomas K E N T
tomás Ó C Á R T H A I G H
tom P E S C A T O R E
tony M A G I S T R A L E
william C R A W F O R D

Heartbreaks and Betrayals with Tanka and Madame Butterfly

Here she is, Madame Butterfly, so in love with Mr. Pinkerton, who left her with a baby, and returned with his American wife to claim his son and leave his crying mistress all alone. Susan Dobay's digital integration artwork is inspiring and touching.  Let's see...

Madame Butterfly - by Susan Dobay, 2013

sometimes it comes back

his memory, her softness

their reckless flight

his baby, their child, his firstborn

half-orphan outside

You will be able to see some of this beautiful art at Susan Dobay's next exhibition, "Regeneration" that will be held at the Shumei Hall Gallery in Pasadena and will open on Sunday, April 6, 2014 at 1 to 5 p.m. There will be a concert, too, though not of "Madame Butterfly".... 

Rock Cherries - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2014 

I wrote three tankas for a presentation of Susan Dobay's artwork inspired by Madame Butterfly, Puccini's immortal opera. The presentation, with the accompanying chapbook was one of the string of events associated with the California visit of an extraordinary Japanese poet, Mariko Kitakubo - held at the Altadena Library, and including Mariko's poetry, a segment on Madame Butterfly and Dobay's art, and a Japanese tea ceremony. Since two were included in that performance, I presented the third one here. 

Broken Heart by Maja Trochimczyk, 2014 

Why do we still care about Madame Butterfly? What's most attractive and bewildering in that opera is the perennial conflict of cultures, and betrayal.  The jilted lover commits suicide, like so many others, who could not imagine life alone.  Heartbreak can kill, literally. 

The topic of heartbreak has recently attracted the attention of a young poet, Karineh Mahdessian, who solicited contributions for and published an anthology by women, called "Heartbreak" and featuring "ache" on the cover. There are 80 poems in the book, written by  a diverse group of poets, ranging in age from high school graduates to grandmothers. Some poems are the very first publication of their authors, others are penned by experienced poets and writers with extensive teaching and publication careers.

Karineh's own heartbreaking story inspired her to find compassion and comfort in the words of her spiritual sisters. Her method of compiling the anthology was unusual: she asked poets to send her three poems so she could chose what she liked.  Her choice was only revealed in the final publication. At the reading on March 16, 2014, in La Puente, poets got their copies of the anthology, in burning orange and yellow.

Heartbreak Anthology by Karineh Mahdessian

When leafing through this volume,  bursting with stories of grief and loss about children, mothers, fathers, as well as all sorts of romantic heartbreaks, I realized that my own poem - indeed all poems I sent - were not really heart-breaky at all. It is hard for me to write about things I do not feel and I understood the assignment" to relate strictly to romantic heart-break, as in : </3, or the complaint of a jilted lover. My response to emotional distress of this kind is, by now, of someone who's been there done that, and knows the arts of coping, grounding and self-soothing (or pretends to know).  The point of losing a loved one, or a love interest, is to learn to say, with Hiob, "God has given, God has taken, praise be to God." 

Easier said than done, of course. But ultimately, serenity and contentment are our goals, reached typically in old age. I remember that British study of happiness that discovered that people are the happiest in their seventies, when the ranging storms of passions have passed, the life's work is done, and they spend hours of contentment in their gardens.

New Spring - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2014 

Gardens - the ancient Garden of Eden - the small patio gardens and large botanical gardens - are the true medicine for heartbreaks. Walking, photographing flowers, listening to birdsong, people-watching - all this medicine is contained right there, in the gardens. Those who know how to heal have spent hours digging into the rich dark soil, pulling the weeds out, planting a new flower, a tomato, or a fig tree... Then, they watch the plants grow, and finally enjoy the fruit of their labor - a blossom, a fruit... Perfect! A heartbreak? What was that, again?

Ice Cream Street

Days come and go,

the earth keeps turning.

You left. I am still.

You drive down my street,

come back for another look.

What do you want to see?

Love is not an easy thing

to manufacture.

I make it in large dollops,

served like ice cream

in cups of kindness.

I package it in dulcet tones

of good memories.

It is expensive,

also quite refined.

It is perfect that way.

The world is, too.

Oceans breathe.

Stars do not ask questions.

Night trees sleep

with birds in their branches.

The mountains

 grow more distant,

settling into calm.

(c) 2008, reprinted in Heartbreak from Rose Always (rev. 2011)

Desert Blossoms - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2011

Now, that serenity was not an instant discovery, but a result of years of hard labor. I had to write volumes of distress out of my system first.  Some of this confessional "poetry" is not really of any interest to anyone, except another woman with a broken heart. Somehow, in hindsight, getting these long strings of complaints together seems really selfish. When crying, we do not see the world, for all the tears needlessly spilled.  But at a moment, when the heart is broken, it really seems broken. The world comes to an end. 

As Karineh and her colleagues so eloquently wrote, a heartbreak leaves one feeling literally "broken-apart" - torn and destroyed.  

i entered broken world

i broken entered world

i entered world broken

~  from Karineh Mahdessian's "breaking" in Heartbreak

the words now hardened and metallic in my mouth,

I feel our shared language disintegrating in my hands

dust between the pages...

~ from Alexandra Hohmann's "English Major Breakup" in Heartbreak

the agony of drought
the swagger of flash flood
day after day, no grass

~ from Ruth Nolan's "When Rain Can Kill," in Heartbreak

Fence Geography - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2014

Sometimes, there's a good reason to cry: the mother, child, or husband dies. It does not seem fair. Grief-stricken parent, daughter, lover screams in anguish, gets in a fit of rage, simmers with anger, falls into despair. It is easy to accuse God of being evil at this stage of dealing with a heartbreak. God's indifference... does not God see what's going on? Why is my beloved taken? 

I wrote some of those types of poems after the death of my father who was shot by robbers in his summer home and never recovered, finally succumbing to a long, wound-caused illness.  A bullet tore through his abdomen, spleen, liver, intestines. A miracle he lived through the sepsis. Another miracle: he lived through the multiple surgeries. Seven drains, living on IV food for four months. And then, still alive, a year after that. Through that time, after being released from the hospital, following a six month stay, half of that time in an ICU, he could only eat unsalted mashed potatoes and chicken broth... My mom, who lost one third of her lung to a bullet, cooked and cared for him. His last call: "Majusiu, you would not believe what happened. I changed into a vampire. I live on other people's blood." It turned out his own spine marrow stopped producing red blood cells and he had to have a transfusion every two weeks, and a dialysis, the kidneys were not working either... 

His body fell apart, and our lives fell apart with him. For a long time before that I felt as if I was all splintered inside into a thousand little pieces, pierced by a bullet. On my desk, I even had a hologram of glass breaking apart, forever held together, forever breaking in that image... Then, the bullet, the breaking became a reality.  When I went to an art exhibit at REDCAT once, I saw a mirror mosaic "Resist Resisting God" that did the same to me...

Mirrored by "Resist Resisting God" - by Maja Trochimczyk, 2012

Eloe 6

grief is a thief

and a stupid one at that

he stole your life

when God was not looking

(too busy –

concocting colors

to paint the canyons, stars,

dabbling in sunsets)

(c) 2008, reprinted from Miriam's Iris (2008)

Sunset by Maja Trochimczyk, 2012

There are many kinds of grief and loss, many reasons for heartbreak.  Those caused by others we have no control over: evil neighbors, evil "tribes" - wars, hatred, discrimination, a bullet piercing the skin... Those caused by others we belong with in our immediate communities and families - family disputes, divorces, deaths after a long illness, fading away with cancer...  Those caused by the two persons intimately involved - one person leaves, the other one stays, brokenhearted...

All victims of senseless crime know the first type of heartbreak. The criminal does not know them, yet they suffer, their loved ones die... Here's a different example of the first type of heartbreak, from a post by Carla Tomczykowska, about the family of her husband,a child of a mixed marriage, refugees from Europe: "Polish AND German were his first languages although he was born here. His father, a Polish survivor of Auschwitz, after the war met a German woman and they got married!!!! When they finally settled in the Polish community in Baltimore, she was reviled for her nationality, and as a young boy, my husband suffered from that hatred at the hands of Polish relatives, neighbors and even the nuns at school. This affected him so much, for he loved his sainted mother dearly, that he totally blocked out the Polish language and refused to speak it anymore.... My husband's dilemma as a post-war child was a two-edged sword - he suffered from both being a child of a survivor of a concentration camp (this is a recognized syndrome) and also the stigma (within the Polish community) of being the child of a German woman, being called a 'Nazi.' It has taken him all these years to recognize and deal with these traumatic emotions formed in his childhood."

This is a peculiar, I'd say "linguistic" variant of the loss suffered by refugees and displaced persons around the world. They were not welcome where they went after their homes were destroyed and their lives broken. Not this kind of loss... 

The Heartbreak anthology does not go into these sorts of heartbreaks - consequences of war, famine, crime, natural disasters, floods and fires. Instead, the stories in Heartbreak are about human grief over human loss of just one person, a loved one: a daughter, son, mother, father. The loss of a love. A lover who left, a husband who was not faithful, a child who will not send a mother's day card. 

Mother's day

an empty mailbox

~ haiku by Jan Benson, from Heartbreak

What do they know?

Do they know your smile, your laugh?

~ from Tairy Barrie's "One Tear" in Heartbreak

While reading about so many passionate, depressed, enraged, and disappointed women, I thought I should at least try and write a truly angry "heartbreak" poem, if only to feel young. But I could not quite feel very serious about it, so it came out as a comedy of errors. Enjoy!

The End

I imagined you dead

and me, your widow

dancing in black veils

purple lipstick, amethyst

nail polish.

But you lived.

You came back to stab me,

pour salt water 

on my wounds.

Enough. Dosyc. Basta.

I can't stand seeing you

laughing at my weakness.

Unexplained.

Unforgiven.

I hang my bra 

on my bathroom door.

I pull a blanket 

over my head.

Listen to a chorus of frogs

pairing in the wet darkness

of spring chaparral

Enough. Dosyc. Basta.

It will dry out. 

There will be fire.

It will turn into charcoal,

flames dancing 

with the shadows

on the rim of the valley - 

dying, gasping

with the last breath

of my love.

(c) 2014 by Maja Trochimczyk

Imprisoned Heart - by Maja Trochimczyk

... like a long trail 

that they leave on

me ripping 

open my 

wounds once

again

~ from Toti O'Brien, "Queen of Hearts" from Heartbreak