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| Poet Susan Nisenbaum Becker |
Little Architects of Time and Space
Poems by Susan
Nisenbaum Becker
© 2013 Susan
Nisenbaum Becker
Word Poetry,
Cincinnati, OH
ISBN 9781625490476
Softbound, no
price given, 84 pages
Review by Zvi A. Sesling
Becker’s title of
Time and Space is exactly that: you know where you are going to be, who you
will encounter or what is happening. In “My Father’s Lessons” Becker learns
how to swim,
skate, observe, drink and more. That’s followed by “Noon At The Western Wall,”
and “Elegy For A State Hospital.” That
is just the beginning. Ms. Becker could
have been in Star Trek doing warp time around the world.
However in “After
the Divorce” she takes us all on a different ride:
Meet yourself—
come home at
last—
hardly
recognizable after
a long journey
and perilous.
Climb into bed,
lie down on the
white sheet
woven by your
doing and undoing.
You will be
surprised
how naked you’ve
become,
how you tremble
and how like the
bridegroom
you re, eager for
yourself.
Pull aside the
blankets,
look into the
face
you’ve missed
and at the body
and, while you
trace
still pink,
spidered scarmaps
take yourself
back, whisper
welcome, welcome.
Here as in all
the poems, despite all the time and space we see the poems are about Becker
herself, for, as some would say, what is a poem if does not reveal something
about the self – the author?
In another poem
“The Turning” you can see how Backer enters the poem subtly:
Four titmice on
the sun-soaked birdbath.
Tufted,
breast-blaze rose,
they splashed,
chittered
dipped their
sturdy beaks
through the
water’s skin,
shook out feather
on the warm
line of
afternoon.
Their throb stole
me
from my
occupation fingering
the gash of your
deceit;
pulled me to
watch instead
how each took its
turn,
how the basin
embraced very
flutter and
overflowed.
And then “Loons”
which is what you want it to – sex, relationships, love, friendship –
whatever. Or perhaps it is about nothing
less than nature and/or parental love.
Draw me to your
warm
tuck, your tented
wing. Feed me
the red, the
silver quivering, gathered
when you let your
body be
heavier than
water—
when your neck,
long as summer,
curled your spine
to slice
the lake’s
unwrinkled skin
and diving, you
became a burst
of webs and
thrusts and clear red eyes.
Shelter this down
globe, just broken
from its shell,
and flick your tongue
to me the song
that coaxes
me into this
world
and promises
nothing.
Several things
about this book are sure: it is well written, it is interesting, it evokes deep
feelings, and it is a poetry you will remember. The poems led you to these
different times of your life and into the unique spaces where you found
yourself.
Zvi A. Sesling
Author, King of the Jungle and Across Stones of Bad Dreams
Editor, Muddy River Poetry Review
Publisher, Muddy
River Books
Editor, Bagel Bards Anthology 7 & Anthology 8
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