Poetry Break: By Mel Waldman, Ph.D.

Dr. Mel Waldman is a widely published author and poet. We have been honored to have had several writers and authors of this caliber submit their work to our site. We hope you enjoy his poetry and follow his future work as well. 

Scott/ Editor


THE EVANESCENCE

OF

SELF

&

THE WORLD I SEE

WITHIN

THE PASSING

OF

ETERNITY

By Dr. Mel Waldman

**********

(on reading W.S. Merwin’s poem-Variations to the Accompaniment of a Cloud)

I

shall not come to this unfathomable place again

&

I bear witness to the vanishing.

I

arrive in a poignant moment of unbearable light

&

say hello

to

the glorious, glittering sun oppressive sultry globe

far away

&

above

the Coney Island boardwalk & the seething beach

fugitive sphere

rushing burning & revealing obscure objects of beauty

buried

in ordinary things below

nameless

creatures of grotesquerie crawling in the seething sands by Coney sunbathers

side by side

with the feeble fluttering of broken wings

a cornucopia

of crippled things dying in the light in the glow of sultry illusion

dancing

in the whirling windless heat

&

caressing the sensuous sand

&

tasting the thirst of discarded empty soda cans & the fire of  roasted cigarette butts

&

eating the hunger of chimerical sandwiches-glittering shards of glass & metal

all

vanishing & passing within the swirl of a gorgeous opalescence

&

so I say hello & goodbye.

I

shall not come again to this unfathomable place

&

I bear witness to the vanishing.

I

say hello to the evanescence of self & the world I see that dies with every vision.

A ghost,

lost in the ever-flowing landscape of ephemerality,

I

flow into a strange death & mourn the incessant passing.

I

shall not taste again the sensuous seascape or sail on the whirling Wonder Wheel.

I

shall not inhale again the enchanting aroma of Coney Island or the sumptuous dream

of

Old Brooklyn & my quixotic childhood.

I

shall not find my way home & rediscover  the pristine house I grew up in,

around

the bend on the other side of Ocean Parkway, nestled in a fantastic place-

my

sweet phantasmagoria of Yesterday.

I

shall not find the way.

I

shall not know again what I once found & devoured on the Tree of Dreams,

mystical non-being

drifting through nowhere-my beautiful birthplace.

My

phantom mind rushes slowly around the rim of unreality

in

search of the evanescence of self & the world I see within the passing of eternity.

A

merciless voice, mournful & loving, shrieks revelations from an unfathomable place,

perhaps,

the omphalos of my soul,

&

I hear again & again,

I shall never return.


PHANTOMS

CLUTCHING STRAWS

By Dr. Mel Waldman

**********

Alone,

bereft & bleeding a river of doubt,

I

sit in Dunkin’ Donuts in the rear empty space

on

a raw November night.

Fiercely frozen,

I drink a sweet solitude & coffee on fire, lips scorched & soothed,

&

my fragile self is faraway,

dreaming

pretty words flowing in glorious rhapsodies from the Heavens

into

my soul case & destined, perhaps, for my sacred home.

Now,

I speak to Him,

in

waves of silence

in

an ocean of existential puzzles

wishing

to obliterate sin,

&

shrouded in my veil of ignorance,

I

pray fervently,

even

in this public place

until

the others arrive.

Then suddenly,

my holy connection is cut.

They

sit 2 tables behind me, pencil-thin phantoms hunched over & clutching straws,

snorting

crack/cocaine or other poisons.

Desperate folks,

almost human-less & hovering in a harrowing unreality,

descend

into an evil domain

&

death is but a few feet from my sizzling flesh.

I

read Yehoshua November’s holy poem-Two Worlds Exist

&

wait for evil to rush slowly into the frigid night.

I

wait within a storm of despair.

After,

in their absence, a dreadful disquiet flows through my unholy veins.

I

reek of roasted human debris.

I

reek.


THE MUSIC

OF

TRAUMA

By Dr. Mel Waldman

**********

Now,

in the ghetto

no time is sacred,

no time safe.

Death

comes now at 1st light & through the luminescence of day

flowing

into night

after dark

after light.

Death

comes, evil speaks

Brave one; listen to the rhapsody of death.

                                                                  Pop, pop, pop in bestial hip-hop.

Gunshots shriek

& find the meek

pitch-black darkness

illuminated

&

life obliterated

sentenced

to otherworldly silence & mortal absence in the swirl of ethereal extinction

for

this is the time you taste the music of trauma

&

feast on fear.

This

is the time you bathe in crimson water

&

taste the underbelly of sin.

This

is the time you hear the eerily everlasting music drowning in the key of death.

This

is the time of the shattering

here,

inside the rhapsody & the requiem

&

a stranger sings of non-being

while

gunshots gut the grotesquerie of night & gallop into the deformity of day.

This

is the time to vanish in the music of trauma.

This

is the time to die & fly away.


Author’s Bio:

555

Mel Waldman, Ph. D.

Dr. Mel Waldman is a psychologist, poet, and writer whose stories have appeared in numerous magazines including HARDBOILED DETECTIVE, ESPIONAGE, THE SAINT, PULP METAL MAGAZINE, and AUDIENCE. His poems have been widely published in magazines and books including INDIANA VOICE JOURNAL, LIQUID IMAGINATION, THE BROOKLYN LITERARY REVIEW, BRICKPLIGHT, SKIVE MAGAZINE, ODDBALL MAGAZINE, POETRY PACIFIC, POETICA, RED FEZ, SQUAWK BACK, SWEET ANNIE & SWEET PEA REVIEW, THE JEWISH LITERARY JOURNAL, THE JEWISH PRESS, THE JERUSALEM POST, HOTMETAL PRESS, MAD SWIRL, HAGGARD & HALLOO, ASCENT ASPIRATIONS, YELLOW MAMA, and NAMASTE FIJI: THE INTERNATIONAL ANTHOLOGY OF POETRY.  A past winner of the literary GRADIVA AWARD in Psychoanalysis, he was nominated for a PUSHCART PRIZE in literature and is the author of 11 books.


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S.W. Biddulph

Scott Biddulph is a published writer, author, and poet from North Georgia. He began writing as a youngster and followed his lifelong dream of reaching people through the written word when he returned to The University of North Georgia in 2013 to finish earning his BA/English with a concentration on publication and creative writing. His publications include the following: an eBook, Apples of Gold: A collection of inspirational short stories and poems (Smashwords, 2010) and a paperback, Voices from the Heart, (Createspace, 2012). His poetry is published in Papers and Publications Undergraduate Research Journal. Vol 3 (2014) and the award-winning Chestatee Review (Spring, 2015), among other places (Check his LinkedIn profile for a full list of his publications). He is currently working on publishing poetry, creative non-fiction, academic essays, and his memoir. Scott has also worked as an intern editor for the University of North Georgia Press. As a freelance editor, he has done the layout and design of several books and magazines. He is currently working with several authors on various publication projects in which he is either ghostwriting, editing manuscripts, or doing the layout and design. Scott continues working on his memoir Twisted Ride. He also maintains a Christian blog: A Disciple's Journey. Finally, and most importantly, he is a father, grandfather, husband, and dedicated Harley Davidson rider (with a huge beard). He and his family enjoy the beauty of the North Georgia Mountains where they live—especially their screened in back porch where they love to bird watch. - "I love realism. I love writing about the raw, down-to-Earth, heartfelt realities of life. I love to write in a way that reaches into the human soul. I love to take the greatest pains and struggles in life, and make them a blessing to others. Fantasy is a wonderful, interesting thing—but real life situations, feelings, fears, and dreams are an unexplored ocean of stories that need to be told." ~Scott Biddulph~

9 comments

    • Thank you for your beautiful comments. My goal is to create and design poems that stimulate all the senses. Visual presentations are key elements of my poetic designs.

      Like

    • I believe we are connected to the Source and to each other. Since we are one and feed from this metaphysical oneness, we can inspire one another. Knowing I inspired you fills me with renewed creative energy. Thank you.

      Liked by 2 people

  1. Thank you, Dr. Waldman. Bearing witness to the bleak, isolated world of today, and the realization that we can never return to the comforts, innocence, and seeming safety of yesterday ran through your poetry for me. I appreciate the message and admire those who can capture such raw emotions and concepts in poetry.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Yes, I bear “witness to the bleak, isolated world of today.” And I am deeply moved by your understanding of my work. Yet I still believe that our traumas and losses can empower us to transcend and transform our flawed human existence.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Hi, Dr. Waldman. As the assistant editor here at Two Drops of Ink, I have been paying more attention to poetry. While I have always had an appreciation for it, I don’t believe that I studied the mechanics of it as much as I do now. Scott Biddulph has been a friend for over 25 years, and writes poetry, also, so that factors, too.

        I agree with you about the traumas and losses empowering us. I have 28 years of abstinence-based recovery, and understand that overcoming the flaws in our nature, and then sharing how we transformed, help us as much as anyone who reads our stories. It is in sharing the hard-fought lessons and then encouraging someone else to try the suggestions, that the bleakness is transcended. We share from the Source and inspire others to take the next step, even when it seems that there is no concrete evidence that an individual’s life can change. It’s that leap of faith, that if we do what someone else has done, we can expect the same outcomes. Then it’s part of personal experience, rather than some ethereal concept.

        Again, thank you for your additional insight into your excellent poetry.

        Liked by 1 person

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