Author Archives: Risa Denenberg

My new book, slight faith, is scheduled for release on May 1st, but today, by chance, I found that it’s already available online at Amazon and at Barnes and Noble. (By chance, you say? I was in fact looking for it.) This … Continue reading →

Abiding Winter  How we made it through another winter’s not the question. Nor is it an answer since one of us was left behind in winter. In Spring, in buoyancy, you asked a question. Cups stood their ground between us, … Continue reading →

This will be my 10th year of participating in NaPoMo. I’m joining the group I’ve published daily poems with in April for the past few years. Like most participants, I doubt if I will write a new poem each of … Continue reading →

Before World Now the earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep.  —Genesis 1:2 Birds don’t sing. Jazz don’t swing. Bees don’t hive. Men don’t jive. Life swims before it flies. Life crawls before … Continue reading →

“It’s Saturday. I’m just trying to reclaim my bearings after a week that divulged how much I need Saturday to take my bearings back.” All day yesterday I was feeling listless, unmoored. I’m in such a different head-space during my work … Continue reading →

  To a woman I might have loved I raised my hand to my forehead, scanning— (I don’t know what for, was it fever or despair?) hearing my father had died, unable to reach his body before its burial I … Continue reading →

I missed blogging last Sunday, which was the day following the 3-day whirlwind of AWP. By Sunday I was sick with a cold and fever and exhaustion. That was also the day I drove from Tampa to Miami to visit … Continue reading →

  Consolation Imagine the crawl from sight to sightlessness. Even in dreams you wear bifocals. Imagine not knowing your grandson’s name, or being lost in a word-salad thicket of sinister trees. Imagine lying on your death bed, palms cupped in … Continue reading →

I just did a second round of corrections for slight faith, which will be published on May 1st.  I’m looking through these poems, and somehow, I can’t believe I wrote them, or maybe I just don’t remember the actual writing of … Continue reading →

Twenty Years of Dead —for Jon (1956-1993) There’s not a lot of love that isn’t brutal, but we had our East Village dives that didn’t open for Sunday liquid-brunch until 1 pm and Monday nights at the G&L Community Center … Continue reading →