Centuries of skin |
Ragged Raven Press
2010
80 pages
ISBN: 978-0-9552552-9-8
Some of the poems in Joanna Ezekiel’s first full poetry collection Centuries of skin engage imaginatively with her discoveries, in childhood and adolescence, of her dual Indian Jewish and Eastern European Jewish heritage. In the title poem, Centuries of skin, Ezekiel responds to overhearing in synagogue that, “She’s not a proper Jew”, with “Perhaps I’ll shout./Hurl my outlawed voice over wide hats…” and in “Rainbow”, she pictures her family in England and India connected by a rainbow, “our family tree of praying voices/murmuring the seven colours”. Economic imagery, raw honesty, and wry humour characterise Ezekiel’s poems.
Joanna blogs at delayed reactions.
Rainbow
Friday nights, stumbling Sabbath blessings
with my brothers and parents, I’d imagine a rainbow
that stretched from our home to Bombay,
our family tree of praying voices
murmuring the seven colours
radiant as peacock blessings
or precious stones, its arc transcending
timezones, continents, fractured partitions.
climbing through dense English cloud
to set in a haze of Eastern red.
I didn’t know then that over it
my father’s parents loomed, large
as Buddhas and angry as the sun.
Tags: Joanna Ezekiel, Ragged Raven PressA braid of words
I cling to the edge
of the roar of a lion,
it’s white-gold edge
like a coast at sunrise.
My feet hang clear
of the quicksand below
as it bubbles and sucks.
I will scramble up
to face the roar,
it’s mountains and valleys,
my breath a sirocco,
my pulse a landslide.
I will hear my calm voice
through the tremor,
a braid of words
like a pulley-cable
to haul myself across
until I fall off
into full noon sunlight,
blinking, my palms
stripped and raw.