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Poetry > "What's Left Behind" Collection-Sample Poems

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message 1: by Michal (new)

Michal Mahgerefteh (michalmahgereftehpoetry) | 13 comments The second edition is planned for Fall 2013. Here is the review from the back cover sample poems www.michalmahgerefteh.com:

Michal Mahgerefteh's second edition of her 2011 chapbook What's Left Behind is a further attempt to deal with the grief of losing her mother. The grieving process grew more intense with every
conversation she had with her father, who supported and cared for her mother for twenty-five years. The affects of this spirit-challenging period seep through every poem: "For twenty-five years Mother’s lips/ kneaded words with a pinch of salt./ Her beautiful green eyes, now colorless." In A Sign of Grief the reader follows the emotional, spiritual, and physical turmoil of both the poet and her father during the time from birth to deathbed, and all that transpired in the intervening time. The burden is unbearable and in the end the poet resorts, reluctantly, to “all I want is to flee from your dark days/ that sealed My Book of Life/ until the hurt no longer/ bears your name”(No More Hurt). Michal Mahgerefteh’s new edition is replete with remarkable sincerity, profound sensitivity, and unconditional love. Its universal message will touch every soul.

Dr. Dina Ripsman Eylon
Publisher and Editor-in-Chief
Women in Judaism: A Multidisciplinary Journal


Introduction


Mother was first diagnosed with breast cancer when she was only forty-one years old. For over twenty-five years, Father supported and cared for Mother throughout her treatments and surgeries, sometimes with anger and frustration, until her passing in 2010. As her health deteriorated over the years, he was there / in years of silent layers. Toward the end of her life, Father often showed weariness, being emotionally and physically exhausted, as he himself was diagnosed with cancer and diabetes. But for him, there was no one to take the pain away. In this collection, I reflect on Mother’s last days and give Father’s poignant struggle a voice.


—Michal Mahgerefteh



Father, The Caregiver

Mother settles into a routine of chemo treatments.
Rounds of blames and accusations always directed

at Father; her twenty-five-year caregiver struggling
for a little piece of dignity. He learned to pretend--
fake smiles, encouraging charm, a hiss of touch.

Not valued by Family as a vital source of inspiration,
Father withdrew into deep thoughts, mentally blocking

peoples’ intentions as misleading. He learned to curse,
attaching hateful nick names to people he once loved.
Madness hidden in Father’s delusions. The forgotten.


message 2: by Michal (last edited Sep 17, 2013 10:34AM) (new)

Michal Mahgerefteh (michalmahgereftehpoetry) | 13 comments I've been receiving four **** and ***** five stars reviews for this collection. Many writers are connecting to the theme of cancer, mourning, caregivers. Thank you!


message 3: by Michal (last edited Sep 17, 2013 10:33AM) (new)

Michal Mahgerefteh (michalmahgereftehpoetry) | 13 comments In August, I read from this collection at Beth Shalom nursing home in Virginia Beach. The one-hour program lasted two + hours. I thank the residents, staff, and the families for a stimulating conversation.


message 4: by Michal (new)

Michal Mahgerefteh (michalmahgereftehpoetry) | 13 comments The first edition received **** stars for language by the Writer's Digest book reviews editors. Thank you!


message 5: by Michal (new)

Michal Mahgerefteh (michalmahgereftehpoetry) | 13 comments A Daily Routine

Living in Israel where the sound of sirens
never fades, nights are long with no end

to Father, a devoted man exhaling long
rhythmic breaths that float in his mind like
wind driven clouds, often sighing. Live-Live!

Mother, like winter’s ghostly white, is a dying
storm bound between sleeping-sleeplessness

muttering possibilities for a miraculous cure.
Death’s breath sings through her aura. Oh,
to secrets spilled while asleep. Awake-Awake!


message 6: by Michal (new)

Michal Mahgerefteh (michalmahgereftehpoetry) | 13 comments At That Critical Moment

I kiss Mother on her forehead.
With a fainthearted hope I fondle
her hair . . . releasing inner calm.

The end of life draws near. Birth
to death, like the hours before
dawn...darkness dissolves into

shades of indigo, mauve, lavender,
finally to brilliant gold as sunrise.
No tears but exalted bon voyage.


message 7: by Michal (new)

Michal Mahgerefteh (michalmahgereftehpoetry) | 13 comments newpages is writing my book a review...to be published in their spring edition. I thank the editors for selecting my book out-of 120 submissions.


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