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Samuel Menashe: New and Selected Poems
The most comprehensive collection available of Menashe’s concise and powerfully suggestive poetry
Samuel Menashe (1925-2011) was the first recipient of The Poetry Foundation’s Neglected Masters Prize in 2004 and this volume was published in conjunction with that award. Born in New York City, Menashe practiced his art of “compression and crystallization” (in Derek Mahon's phrase) in poems that are brief in form but startlingly wide-ranging and profound in their engagement with ultimate questions. Dana Gioia has “Menashe is essentially a religious poet, though one without an orthodox creed. Nearly every poem he has ever published radiates a heightened religious awareness.”
Intensely musical and rigorously constructed, Menashe's poetry stands apart in its solitary meditative power. But it is equally a poetry of the everyday, suffused, in the words of Christopher Ricks, with “the courage of comedy, flanked by the respect of innocence.” The humblest of objects, the minutest of natural forms here become powerfully suggestive, and even the shortest of the poems are spacious in the perspectives they open.
About the American Poets Project
Elegantly designed in compact editions, printed on acid-free paper, and textually authoritative, the American Poets Project makes available the full range of the American poetic accomplishment, selected and introduced by today’s most discerning poets and critics.
Samuel Menashe (1925-2011) was the first recipient of The Poetry Foundation’s Neglected Masters Prize in 2004 and this volume was published in conjunction with that award. Born in New York City, Menashe practiced his art of “compression and crystallization” (in Derek Mahon's phrase) in poems that are brief in form but startlingly wide-ranging and profound in their engagement with ultimate questions. Dana Gioia has “Menashe is essentially a religious poet, though one without an orthodox creed. Nearly every poem he has ever published radiates a heightened religious awareness.”
Intensely musical and rigorously constructed, Menashe's poetry stands apart in its solitary meditative power. But it is equally a poetry of the everyday, suffused, in the words of Christopher Ricks, with “the courage of comedy, flanked by the respect of innocence.” The humblest of objects, the minutest of natural forms here become powerfully suggestive, and even the shortest of the poems are spacious in the perspectives they open.
About the American Poets Project
Elegantly designed in compact editions, printed on acid-free paper, and textually authoritative, the American Poets Project makes available the full range of the American poetic accomplishment, selected and introduced by today’s most discerning poets and critics.
200 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2000
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April 11, 2025
Take My Poems
A recent essay titled "A Deeper Consideration" by the poet, essayist and journalist, Clive James explores the virtues of concision, reflection, and thought in poetry as opposed to mere wordy surface glitter or confessional self-expression. James discusses the works of the American poet Samuel Menashe (b. 1925) to illustrate his claims of what is valuable in poetry. Here is a short poem by Menashe titled "Beachhead" that James carefully discusses.
"The tide ebbs
From a helmet
Wet sand embeds"
Menashe served as an infantryman during WW II at the Battle of the Bulge. Other than this poem, Menashe wrote little about his war experiences. Yet. James properly observes that "there is a whole war" in these tight three lines. James continues: "[The poet] makes his war a nation's war. The deeper consideration is that he was one among many, and, unlike too many, he lived to speak. That he speaks so concisely is a condition of his testament: consecration and concentration are the same thing. This is a world away from the expression of the self. This is bedrock."
Born to Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe, Menashe described his poetical influences as the short poems of William Blake and the Hebrew Bible. He was an obscure figure in American poetry until the Poetry Foundation established a "Neglected Masters Award" for Menashe on the occasion of his 80th birthday. At the same time, the American Poets Project, part of the Library of America, published this volume of Menashe's "New and Selected Poems" in 2005, with a short essay by Menashe, quotations from various poets on his work, and an introduction by Christopher Ricks. In 2008, the American Poets Project edition was expanded to include ten additional poems. I am using the 2008 edition in this review.
Menashe's poetry is short, deeply thought through, and filled with meaning. It doesn't categorize well as either modernist or traditional. The poems are generally in brief lines with every word, and the form, telling. The poems often rhyme in part and make great use of alliteration, homonyms,and suggestion. Some of the poems celebrate the everyday. They frequently are set in New York City where Menashe has lived in the same unpretentious walk-up flat since the early 1950s. But many of the poems are rural, set in woods, fields, or near the water. Death, including the poet's pending death (Menashe is still active), his friends, and his mother's is a preoccupation. Love and love affairs are described, if only elliptically. Some of the poems are whimsical. Most of poetry reaches out beyond its few words to show a concern for spiritual questions.
Here is a poem titled "Windows: Old Widow" which several contributors to the American Poets Project volume use to illustrate the character of Menashe's art.
"There is a pillow
On the window sill --
Her elbow room --
In the twin window
Enclosed by a grill
Plants in pots bloom
On the window sill"
I want to quote two poems out of many that I particularly liked that I have not seen referred to by other writers on Menashe. The first, set in New York City, as is the above poem, is titled "Tenement Spring".
"Blue month of May, make us
Light as laundry on lines
Wind we do not see, mind us
Early in the morning"
The second poem is untitled and is part of a series of little poems that comment upon Biblical passages.
"Leah bribed Jacob
With mandrake roots
To make him
Lie with her
Take my poems"
Menashe's poems reminded me of the short poetry of Charles Reznikoff (1894 -- 1976). Like Menashe, Reznikoff was born to immigrants from Eastern Europe. Reznikoff wrote in obscurity for years in a style that was both concentrated and highly personal. Like Menashe, Reznikoff lived in New York City, and many of his poems have an urban setting. And both writers show a strong Jewish influence even though neither appears traditionally religious.
Readers interested in modern poetry that is slightly off the beaten path will love this collection of Menashe's poems. As with much else, the Library of America is to be commended for publishing this volume and making Menashe's work available.
The essay by Clive James discussed in this review is taken from the September 2010 issue of "Poetry" magazine.
Samuel Menashe died on August 22, 2011.
Robin Friedman
A recent essay titled "A Deeper Consideration" by the poet, essayist and journalist, Clive James explores the virtues of concision, reflection, and thought in poetry as opposed to mere wordy surface glitter or confessional self-expression. James discusses the works of the American poet Samuel Menashe (b. 1925) to illustrate his claims of what is valuable in poetry. Here is a short poem by Menashe titled "Beachhead" that James carefully discusses.
"The tide ebbs
From a helmet
Wet sand embeds"
Menashe served as an infantryman during WW II at the Battle of the Bulge. Other than this poem, Menashe wrote little about his war experiences. Yet. James properly observes that "there is a whole war" in these tight three lines. James continues: "[The poet] makes his war a nation's war. The deeper consideration is that he was one among many, and, unlike too many, he lived to speak. That he speaks so concisely is a condition of his testament: consecration and concentration are the same thing. This is a world away from the expression of the self. This is bedrock."
Born to Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe, Menashe described his poetical influences as the short poems of William Blake and the Hebrew Bible. He was an obscure figure in American poetry until the Poetry Foundation established a "Neglected Masters Award" for Menashe on the occasion of his 80th birthday. At the same time, the American Poets Project, part of the Library of America, published this volume of Menashe's "New and Selected Poems" in 2005, with a short essay by Menashe, quotations from various poets on his work, and an introduction by Christopher Ricks. In 2008, the American Poets Project edition was expanded to include ten additional poems. I am using the 2008 edition in this review.
Menashe's poetry is short, deeply thought through, and filled with meaning. It doesn't categorize well as either modernist or traditional. The poems are generally in brief lines with every word, and the form, telling. The poems often rhyme in part and make great use of alliteration, homonyms,and suggestion. Some of the poems celebrate the everyday. They frequently are set in New York City where Menashe has lived in the same unpretentious walk-up flat since the early 1950s. But many of the poems are rural, set in woods, fields, or near the water. Death, including the poet's pending death (Menashe is still active), his friends, and his mother's is a preoccupation. Love and love affairs are described, if only elliptically. Some of the poems are whimsical. Most of poetry reaches out beyond its few words to show a concern for spiritual questions.
Here is a poem titled "Windows: Old Widow" which several contributors to the American Poets Project volume use to illustrate the character of Menashe's art.
"There is a pillow
On the window sill --
Her elbow room --
In the twin window
Enclosed by a grill
Plants in pots bloom
On the window sill"
I want to quote two poems out of many that I particularly liked that I have not seen referred to by other writers on Menashe. The first, set in New York City, as is the above poem, is titled "Tenement Spring".
"Blue month of May, make us
Light as laundry on lines
Wind we do not see, mind us
Early in the morning"
The second poem is untitled and is part of a series of little poems that comment upon Biblical passages.
"Leah bribed Jacob
With mandrake roots
To make him
Lie with her
Take my poems"
Menashe's poems reminded me of the short poetry of Charles Reznikoff (1894 -- 1976). Like Menashe, Reznikoff was born to immigrants from Eastern Europe. Reznikoff wrote in obscurity for years in a style that was both concentrated and highly personal. Like Menashe, Reznikoff lived in New York City, and many of his poems have an urban setting. And both writers show a strong Jewish influence even though neither appears traditionally religious.
Readers interested in modern poetry that is slightly off the beaten path will love this collection of Menashe's poems. As with much else, the Library of America is to be commended for publishing this volume and making Menashe's work available.
The essay by Clive James discussed in this review is taken from the September 2010 issue of "Poetry" magazine.
Samuel Menashe died on August 22, 2011.
Robin Friedman
September 6, 2008
Here are a couple of sample poems:
A pot pored out
Fulfills its spout.
Samuel Menashe
At Millay's Grave
Your ashes
In an urn
Buried here
Make me burn
For dear life
My candle
at one end --
Night outlasts
Wick and wax
Foe and friend.
Samuel Menashe
A pot pored out
Fulfills its spout.
Samuel Menashe
At Millay's Grave
Your ashes
In an urn
Buried here
Make me burn
For dear life
My candle
at one end --
Night outlasts
Wick and wax
Foe and friend.
Samuel Menashe
October 17, 2011
Don't fall for this - and I'm an advocate of poetry on the level of the short game, which is how Menashe writes. These are short poems that often have just a few feet per line, or a single foot, so quickly broken they sound like thuddy panting. Other metaphors: music-box instead of orchestra; doggerel schtick; a tabloid reprint of haiku that's in the section next to the geriatric puzzles; matchbook art.
There are also a number of profundity assumptions in this verse this short (pith and wisdom), and self-pity. One wonders if he has frequently spoken to a living person.
Christopher Ricks' essay as a part of this commendable publishing project is a remarkable example of tense, close reading. Thing is - and there are a number of rappers who will back me up on this - near-trivial prosodic elements are going to be lost on most people if the overall effect of the poem is lacking.
Notable poems are "November," "Transfusion," "Awakening from Dreams."
October 6, 2025
I feel as if Menashe fulfilled the promise of Imagism even more so than H.D., William Carlos Williams, or Amy Lowell. Yet he is never counted among their ranks because he came a generation (or two) after, and his verse was saddled with the label of “spiritual.” Perhaps that might be accurate if we take his meticulous, gentle minimalism as a deep expression of the human spirit. But why would that preclude the work from being compared to the Imagists, especially since both are so similar to haiku?
In a wonderful review of this collection (https://themillions.com/2022/08/the-p...), Joseph Helmreich mentions that Menashe was also not properly suited to be grouped with the Deep Image poets of the ’60s and ’70s. That is definitely correct, since his poetry, although in line with the self-reflective, concrete, and spiritual aspects of those poets, used language and formal structures that were far closer to the earlier Imagists.
And this is why I love both the poet and his verse: he doesn’t fit neatly into any categories and did not garner the same recognition of many other poets, yet his verse stands alongside those who came before and after. These poems are more than little masterpieces of tone and economical word choice—they are philosophical meditations akin to aphorisms. (In his Introduction to the collection, which I read after reading the book and jotting down this note for my review, Christopher Ricks claims Menashe’s work is more than “aphorisms,” as critics often label it, so I guess my observation is in the ballpark of the critical consensus.) And, quite frankly, these poems hit a deep emotional resonance that even the greatest of the Imagists, in their sometimes too-cerebral formal mechanics, often fail to achieve. Whereas they “composed in the sequence of musical phrase,” to quote Pound, Menashe’s verse has the airy authenticity of not even being composed at all! Their musicality lies in their seemingly effortless existence, as if they were manifestations of thought itself. If Imagist poetry is like “musical phrase” on the page, then Menashe’s art is like the notes heard in a composer’s head before he even translates it to notation on the page.
In a wonderful review of this collection (https://themillions.com/2022/08/the-p...), Joseph Helmreich mentions that Menashe was also not properly suited to be grouped with the Deep Image poets of the ’60s and ’70s. That is definitely correct, since his poetry, although in line with the self-reflective, concrete, and spiritual aspects of those poets, used language and formal structures that were far closer to the earlier Imagists.
And this is why I love both the poet and his verse: he doesn’t fit neatly into any categories and did not garner the same recognition of many other poets, yet his verse stands alongside those who came before and after. These poems are more than little masterpieces of tone and economical word choice—they are philosophical meditations akin to aphorisms. (In his Introduction to the collection, which I read after reading the book and jotting down this note for my review, Christopher Ricks claims Menashe’s work is more than “aphorisms,” as critics often label it, so I guess my observation is in the ballpark of the critical consensus.) And, quite frankly, these poems hit a deep emotional resonance that even the greatest of the Imagists, in their sometimes too-cerebral formal mechanics, often fail to achieve. Whereas they “composed in the sequence of musical phrase,” to quote Pound, Menashe’s verse has the airy authenticity of not even being composed at all! Their musicality lies in their seemingly effortless existence, as if they were manifestations of thought itself. If Imagist poetry is like “musical phrase” on the page, then Menashe’s art is like the notes heard in a composer’s head before he even translates it to notation on the page.
November 11, 2024
It's a surprise I came across this on Library of America's discount page. Samuel Menashe is truly a neglected master! He has become my favorite poet since discovering this collection. His poetry is short, concise, and thereby explosive in meaning. Each poem is a symbol pouring out. Here are three I've decided to remember:
Enclosure
Hagia Sophia's high dome
Magnifies and confines
The mind's eye, home
Within oval lines
--
O many named beloved
Listen to my praise
Various as the seasons
Different as the days
All my treasons cease
When I see your face
--
Sheen
Sun splinters
In water's skin
Quivers hundreds
Of lines to rim
One radiance
You within
Enclosure
Hagia Sophia's high dome
Magnifies and confines
The mind's eye, home
Within oval lines
--
O many named beloved
Listen to my praise
Various as the seasons
Different as the days
All my treasons cease
When I see your face
--
Sheen
Sun splinters
In water's skin
Quivers hundreds
Of lines to rim
One radiance
You within
September 3, 2008
I was fortunate enough to meet Mr. Menashe in Central Park during a short trip to NYC in August, 2008. As we (my mother, my significant other and me) were discussing where best to catch a cab, Mr. Manashe gave advice from the next park bench. As the conversation went on he actually wrote a poem for us and signed it! I can hear his distinguished speaking voice as I read his compact poetry, he recited several during that short serendipitous visit.
I told him I would buy a copy of his newest book for my library, and couldn't wait for it to be delivered. Mr. Menashe is the first winner of the Neglected Masters Award established by the Poetry Foundation.
I told him I would buy a copy of his newest book for my library, and couldn't wait for it to be delivered. Mr. Menashe is the first winner of the Neglected Masters Award established by the Poetry Foundation.
February 5, 2012
I don't know from poetry, but I like Billy Collins and now also Samuel Menashe. One reviewer wondered if the author ever spoke to another human. Probably not, but that's okay. Short, pithy, creates images I can see in my head: probably = the poetry is working on a leans-towards-left-brained person. So, huzzah!
October 25, 2014
Manashe's poems are honed down to the morrow and joint surrounding the bone, as he writes,
The niche narrows
Hones one thin
Until his bones
Disclose him
His poetry embraces aging, contemplates death while working at the struggle of too many words.
The niche narrows
Hones one thin
Until his bones
Disclose him
His poetry embraces aging, contemplates death while working at the struggle of too many words.
September 25, 2012
These poems work by being simple but evocative. Great art paired with a wry sense of timing and humour.
October 5, 2012
He is one of my favorites, though I understand why others do not like it. Economy is not for everyone.
January 18, 2022
Two quotes summarize the poet's style.
The first, from Derek Mahon, who distinguished Menashe's poems for their "compression and crystalization".
The second, from Samuel Menashe, who described his way of writing and way of living thus: "every day was the only day."
Indeed, the poetry of Menashe is remarkable for its constraint and for its immediacy.
The constraint of Menashe's poems is what struck me first. One can't help but notice the amount of empty space. Admittedly, it feels a waste not to combine two or three poems to a page, especially when some of Menashe's poems are no longer than four lines...
The immediacy is most prominent in those poems about death. Of which there are many. Indeed, the poems about death might well have been written by a man who believed, as the poet claimed to believe, that "every day was the only day", that in effect every day was his last day...
The poems about death are too numerous to cite. But that's not to suggest that the poet is morbid, or that he doesn't take pleasure from life. On the contrary, the poet celebrates many aspects of life...
It is also worth noting that Menashe has found a tasteful way to incorporate rhyming into his poetry. I say "tasteful" not because I find rhyming "tasteless" but because it's not my taste (generally speaking). Menashe is the exception. In part because his poems are so short, the rhyming he employs is never distracting. In part because his rhymes are unpretentious. Some readers, however, may take issue with the simplicity of his rhyming. But I found it refreshing...
Overall, I found the collection to be refreshing. The only exception being the handful of poems that dealt exhaustively with Christian themes, including quotations from the Bible...
The first, from Derek Mahon, who distinguished Menashe's poems for their "compression and crystalization".
The second, from Samuel Menashe, who described his way of writing and way of living thus: "every day was the only day."
Indeed, the poetry of Menashe is remarkable for its constraint and for its immediacy.
The constraint of Menashe's poems is what struck me first. One can't help but notice the amount of empty space. Admittedly, it feels a waste not to combine two or three poems to a page, especially when some of Menashe's poems are no longer than four lines...
Crow I scorn you
Caw everywhere
You'll not subdue
This blue air- Sudden Shadow (pg. 87)
* * *
Spokes slide
Upon a pole
Inside
The parasol- To Open (pg. 122)
* * *
Taut with longing
You must become
The god you sought -
The only one- Apotheosis (pg. 178)
The immediacy is most prominent in those poems about death. Of which there are many. Indeed, the poems about death might well have been written by a man who believed, as the poet claimed to believe, that "every day was the only day", that in effect every day was his last day...
Flowers, not bread
Cast upon the water -
The dead outlast
Whatever we offer- The Offering (pg. 33)
* * *
At death's door
The end in sight
Is life, not death
Each breath you take
Is breathtaking- What to Expect (pg. 158)
The poems about death are too numerous to cite. But that's not to suggest that the poet is morbid, or that he doesn't take pleasure from life. On the contrary, the poet celebrates many aspects of life...
I catnap, wake
Naked on my bed
Scrap paper spread -
Enough ink spilled
In rough drafts
To float the raft- Heat Wave (pg. 49)
It is also worth noting that Menashe has found a tasteful way to incorporate rhyming into his poetry. I say "tasteful" not because I find rhyming "tasteless" but because it's not my taste (generally speaking). Menashe is the exception. In part because his poems are so short, the rhyming he employs is never distracting. In part because his rhymes are unpretentious. Some readers, however, may take issue with the simplicity of his rhyming. But I found it refreshing...
Flung inside out
The crammed mouth
Whose meal I am
Ground, devoured
I find myself now
Benignly empowered- Awakening from Dreams (pg. 88)
Overall, I found the collection to be refreshing. The only exception being the handful of poems that dealt exhaustively with Christian themes, including quotations from the Bible...
Eyes open to praise
The play of light
Upon the ceiling -
While still abed raise
The roof this morning
Rejoice as you please
Your maker who made
This day while you slept,
Who gives you grace and ease,
Whose promise is kept.
'Let them sing for joy upon their beds.' - Psalm 149- The Offering (pg. 80)
June 6, 2022
Maybe I just wasn't in the right head space when I read it, but I just couldn't get into this collection. I did feel somewhat 'plugged into' the occasional intense moments that mostly had to do with death and mourning, but even in those places I found myself just sort of disengaged - like, I was looking for wisdom, but was shown none. It didn't feel concise in the way that a good haiku feels disciplined and concise. It just felt withholding and maybe the opposite of generous, whatever that's supposed to mean.
May 26, 2020
Thoughtful, thoughtprovoking poems on life, death, meaning, love, and nature, drawn together in tight little knots of intertwining, short lines. Poems range from 2 lines to 20, but mostly 8 line mini-worlds of meaning. Some profound, some ho-hum, but the collection all in all is sufficiently stimulating.
February 21, 2024
Some okay poems. Very simple.
August 21, 2024
O Lady lonely as a stone--
Even here moss has grown
Even here moss has grown
April 9, 2022
4 1/4 stars
September 11, 2024
Menashe is a contemporary master of the short poem who people either seem to love or hate. I myself was not overly impressed when I first encountered him, but I decided to give him a second chance when this e-book was on sale at a great price. I'm glad I did. While his poems almost always appear fairly slight (typically composed of a few lines, which, in turn, are usually only a few words each), I found many of them to be rather evocative. Here, in its entirety, is "The Dead of Winter" a poem that more or less epitomizes a typical Menashe offering:
In my coat I sit
At the window sill
Wintering with snow
That did not melt
It fell long ago
At night, by stealth
I was where I am
When the snow began
At his best, Menashe gives you perfectly distilled gems that are easy to take with you and seem to deepen with further contemplation.
It was interesting reading Menashe after so recently finishing the selected poems of John Ashbery (one whom I would for obvious reasons never be tempted to call a "master of the short poem"). Both challenge the reader, but in drastically different ways. Menashe's intense concentration and close attention to every single word creates the impression that if one so much as blinks while reading they might miss something important. Ashbery, meanwhile, creates confusing, whirling masses of poetic meaning, and while his poems do offer the reader multiple points of entry, good luck not being spit back out once you're in there. In the end, I enjoyed reading both men's work, but they were dramatically different experiences.
In my coat I sit
At the window sill
Wintering with snow
That did not melt
It fell long ago
At night, by stealth
I was where I am
When the snow began
At his best, Menashe gives you perfectly distilled gems that are easy to take with you and seem to deepen with further contemplation.
It was interesting reading Menashe after so recently finishing the selected poems of John Ashbery (one whom I would for obvious reasons never be tempted to call a "master of the short poem"). Both challenge the reader, but in drastically different ways. Menashe's intense concentration and close attention to every single word creates the impression that if one so much as blinks while reading they might miss something important. Ashbery, meanwhile, creates confusing, whirling masses of poetic meaning, and while his poems do offer the reader multiple points of entry, good luck not being spit back out once you're in there. In the end, I enjoyed reading both men's work, but they were dramatically different experiences.
January 27, 2008
Brief, lucid transcendent poems.
January 27, 2011
Somewhere between Williams and A.R. Ammons, but still a master of the short lyric.
July 7, 2013
One of my favorite poets and poetry books! Truly beautiful writing.
Read
December 7, 2016Haiku-like poetry
July 20, 2007
I wonder why this is consistently so flat.
September 7, 2009
Didn't speak to me much
October 12, 2011
Deceptively simple and small verse, tightly crafted, rich in meaning.
Displaying 1 - 24 of 24 reviews