A Dozen Roses Contest Entries, Entries, Featured
Like mother, like son: The Katz in the cradle
Feb
Ahhhh! Illuminating Literati!
Frequent flyer to the towers that are A Word with You Press Kyle Katz has something in addition to her entries to offer us: her son, Judge.
Judge is making his debut here at The Word with a poem for our contest A Dozen Roses for a Single Thorn: A Valentine’s Day Love Story.
There is still time to enter the contest yourself or submit your second entry: deadline is February 28th. Details are here:
I hope you will agree that here is a poet with wisdom and talent beyond his years. Welcome aboard, lad!
Desinere
by Judge Katz
You took her first then
you wanted me- but I said no,
no,
no
And the of crushing weight of loneliness
I was cordially endowed
Yet I couldn’t stop laughing,
when my love slept
left,
died
Because she was gone and away
and I was still alive
But when I woke,
I watched the clock,
tick
tock
And my skin began to crawl and cry
I began to rock
My eyes would not leave,
the moving hands sway- back
and
forth,
And my blackest veins which had slept pulsed,
and began to course
But I just couldn’t stop laughing
And my skin began to itch,
burn
flay
And the hardwood dusty floor
looked up at me in shame
I must suffer to love and therefore
learn to love to suffer,
burn
scream
But no nightmare would ever reconcile
and morph into a dream
So while caged inside my misery,
I am glad I stand alone
detached
apart
So none else may stand under the galvanizing blast
That comes from a broken heart
But rumor has it,
She left for good, never
seen
again
But I am the only one who knows the truth,
And for our love, this truly was the end.
*********************************************
And here is a something by KATZ Stevens
O, my birded throat opens in amazement to sing the “Desinere”. My heart flutters with blood crashing my brain to believe such skill. My lungs seize, void of the air depleted from my chest, a journey flight of soulful remorse. For there awakens a voice superior in words to what I have ever written in power, precision and depth of human emotional insights. Dare any mortal compete well against this prodigy of poetry. This young man is of such vast expanse into the human psyche that I wonder if there are people worthy of fair critique.
As a writer, I am reminded of my own mediocrity when I read poetry from the immortals. Bow learned gents, curtsey cultured ladies for you have been honored by a genius of cadence, woodcraft and vulnerable rawness which the ages will come to treasure. My humble words do you no justice, but I offer them humbly to you with respectful praise, Mr. Judge Katz.
I offer words of well educated advice as a poet to you Ms. Katherine Rose Grant upon reading Mr. Judge Katz’s “Desinere”. Here is the winning entry without a close contender.
Judge this is a response from my Dad – Ron Peterson who was a published poet and author: “How old is he? He writes from a place that few of his age have even begun to experience. The way he writes is beyond those who are far older and who cannot write as succinctly and with such depth as he has done – this is exceptional.”
My dad is talking from the other side Judge and I can tell you have impressed him with your writing. From me – you have always impressed me with your writing abilities and the depth that you write from which belies your current age. You have captured here the torment and despair that accompanies the pain of a broken heart, the loss of someone we love immensely…put into words that I barely can conceive how you know this. I could say brilliant, but that doesn’t quite cover it…but I can say that the feeling within the words that you have written have drawn tears for I have experienced this situation and can feel the pain within of love lost. Outstanding!
Diane…Did Ron know this? In the physical this is pretty unreal to me.
I called my Dad in when I read Judge’s entry the first time. I wanted my Dad to read this also. I just typed what I heard him say and could ‘see’ his reaction to the poem. My Dad passed in 2008 and he’s still around giving me advice when i write.
My son and I just cried together, when he read his entry in print..When I prompted him to write something and he produced this fine piece of literature, I asked him how would he know of this kind of love and broken heart. How could he so beautifully explain such an emotion at his age. He broke down in tears and told me of a story, he’d kept locked inside… The story of Yrra who he met on a fan fiction writing site, he belonged to for about a year. She came to San Diego to visit, they used to meet in the local coffee, breakfast shop and talk and laugh. He seemed to be quite taken by her. He once told me just a few months ago, that you can love someone, even at a very young age.
She was suppose to come back in December to visit. Judge got a text from her parents. She died in the sunami. He showed me a picture of her. Now I know why for a time period he was distant and depressed. Saturday we are going to the shore and read Judge’s poetry for Yrra and throw flowers in the water. I’m really just overwhelmed.
Judge, you truly have a writer’s soul. Such tragedy can strike anyone at anytime, young, old, sensitive, or no. But to take it in and recognise where you yourself are with it all, and then translate it into words on a page, and to do this as creatively as you have, is something for the world to behold, admire, and yes, rejoice.
I keep reading the poem over and over, looking for a line I can throw an anchor on and start from there. It’s just not gonna happen. The writing is tight enough, like a science equation. You know you have hit paydirt when the thing cannot be broken down into a truer form than it already is. Here is where the gold is, the motherload, where a writer gets invited to the “Green Room” on a wave, you know?? Doesn’t get much better.
Some writers do this once. Some, if they are lucky, keep the focus or remember what it felt like and do it again. My advice to you (yeah, like you need my advice) is to slip the story into your story book. What? Don’t have a story book? Get one. Have ma Katz buy one for you for being the literary child prodigy that you are. Make sure the book is big enough to keep lots and lots of stories–your stories. Next time life takes you on a tailspin, you know the usual slap of love, life, death, horror, happiness, etc, and you find yourself ready to go again on the keys, read this story again; even just the title will do.
Every great writer has a tower they look out from. Case in point the towers of Moscow, AWWYP. Even Thorn has to peek out from time to time to see which way the wind blows.
Now, my Lad, you have yours.
From Judge: Thank you for your miniature dossier (joking of course) and taking the time to write it. Really wasn’t expecting so in depth of an answer for something I had only written the day before. Thank again!
Judge has certainly appreciated all of your comments.
An Amazingly captivating melancholy verse smoky with a wounded heart…I am still hoping for the silver lining somehow…or so it seems, rumor has it…
Kristine, every since he wrote this and exposed it to other writers and read the comments, his spirits have lifted. He’s a person that holds things inside and only through his writings does he expose the deepness of his thoughts. What a gift. Healing has begun as he tells me more about her. We sit close and talk about love lost…but how that love is never really lost, but how we can hold it in our hearts for a lifetime. We layed on the floor, close together and looked to the ceiling, wondering how much grief can one bare? Words heal…putting them on paper can heal, sharing can heal…until we rise again and take the experience so it becomes part of our fabric…Love is like that.He knows that now. He thanks you for reading his entry. Blessings Kyle
Love the phrase “smoky with a wounded heart.” That’s poetry in itself! This poem is obviously inspiring more poets!
Dear Judge,
Never stop writing.
Thanks. He said to tell you, he definitely won’t stop writing. He just wrote a special song for her on his guitar. It was quite beautiful.
Thank you for sharing your honest feelings in your lyrical poetry. My favorite line is I must suffer to love and therefore to love to suffer. Even though the experience of love is so transcendent and ecstatic at first, it eventually brings up raw things for both partners to heal. And it is never about “you”, it is about the difficulty of being human.
As you grow in your love experiences, you will find those you can trust with the deep stuff, and learn when to take your time risking slowly, like a dance, making sure the other is meeting you equally. Obviously your poetry makes people think and feel and respond, which means you have talent! Hope you share more with us again.
Laura, thanks for your wisdom and choosing one of his favorite lines…mine too. He ask me today how can love feel so good…and feel so completely devastating? He wants to thank you for commenting on his very personal piece of poetry. It’s been hard for him to comment directly.
All the entries have been posted and the decision is in the hands of Ms. Grant. I said it below and now it is very clear to me as a fellow poet and lover of poetry that “Desinere” is by far the best entry in this contest. Your poem in my mind, Judge, makes me imagine Emily Dickinson as a beat poet, but the words could be rap, turned to hip-hop.
One of the test of modern poetry which most people who don’t write poetry fail to understand is that poems need to be read out loud with the emotions they evoke. Poetry when excellent is a soliloquy worthy of high theatre, a rolling over the tongue of rich nuisances and plays on phrases which verse does not allow. Poetry is life trimmed with the flavor of its essence potent, available throughout.
I am an instant admirer of your writing skills and human depth Judge. My intuition believes that long after each and every other writer, who entered this contest has been forgotten, your works will remain available and treasured. Your young world is opening to the grand adventure that is life. I look forward to seeing that adventure in the future through your poetic and musical talents.
Dear Parisianne, Your words have reached his ears …right to his heart. He loves your poetry. Thanks.
Judge and i wanted to graciously thank you all for your caring support. He’s had a little time to settle in with the magnitude of losing his first love. This event unfolded on this site. What has developed is a much closer relationship on a much different level with Judge and myself. Through his writing he has met more of himself, and seems to like who he has become. “He told me today I would have really liked her and she would have liked me.” Writing opens those channels of healing, that we may otherwise tuck neatly in our pains–not to be mentioned box. He’s read every comment and smiled.