Tag: steve ablon

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Crowds – Steve Ablon

This is the third and final poem of Steve’s that we will be posting this season. We appreciated his storytelling abilities that were ever-present despite the conciseness of each of his pieces. Enjoy.

Oh, and keep an eye out for an announcement we’ll be posting either later today or early tomorrow. You’ll be glad you did so!

Crowds

There is a woman 

lying on the ground, 

a crowd, cars 

stopped, blood 

oozing from the 

side of her mouth. 

There is a man 

fallen on the beach, 

still as a clam shell, 

not breathing. 

A heart attack? 

There is a girl 

on the aisle, 

on the flight, 

faint, sweaty. 

I leave my seat, 

talk to her, 

try to be calm, 

examine her. 

Will the plane 

be diverted? 

It’s diabetes, 

some sugar 

will put her 

back on course. 

I am a doctor 

when crowds 

gather on the 

street, the beach, 

the plane. 

Steven Luria Ablon, poet and adult and child psychoanalyst, teaches child psychiatry at Massachusetts General Hospital and publishes widely in academic journals. His poems have appeared in numerous anthologies and magazines such as The Brooklyn Review, Ploughshares, and The Princeton Arts Review. He has published five full collections of poetry including Tornado Weather (Mellen Poetry Press, 1993),  Flying Over Tasmania (The Fithian Press, 1997), Blue Damsels (Peter E Randall Publisher, 2005),  Night Call (Plain View Press, 2011), and, most recently, Dinner in the Garden (Columbia, South Carolina, 2018).

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Mother’s Day, 101 Years

Mother’s Day, 101 Years

She fumbles with the phone,

puts it on speaker, turns up

the volume, asks how I am.

I wish her Happy Mother’s Day,

ask what she is doing,

which restaurants,

which theater. I tell her how

I have always admired

her zest for life, her interest

in everyone, the details

of their lives. She says that

sounds like a Hallmark card.

Only in the past few years could

she be a splash of vinegar.

That helps her live a long life.

Steven Luria Ablon, poet and adult and child psychoanalyst, teaches child psychiatry at Massachusetts General Hospital and publishes widely in academic journals. His poems have appeared in numerous anthologies and magazines such as The Brooklyn Review, Ploughshares, and The Princeton Arts Review. He has published five full collections of poetry including Tornado Weather (Mellen Poetry Press, 1993),  Flying Over Tasmania (The Fithian Press, 1997), Blue Damsels (Peter E Randall Publisher, 2005),  Night Call (Plain View Press, 2011), and, most recently, Dinner in the Garden (Columbia, South Carolina, 2018).

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Rising from His Chair – Steve Ablon

Rising from His Chair

He will not hold the arm rests, so his body 

rocks, a windlass, lifting a few inches  

off the chair. He falls back, recovers, pulls 

in his breath for strength, fixes his eyes on  

painting of the Luxembourg Gardens 

on the wall where light below the horizon  

reaches to hold back the dark. His thighs shake, 

each muscle-spindle recruiting strength,  

recruiting balance to slowly stand. 

He walks, scuffs the carpet. When I offer  

a glass of water, he pushes my hand away. 

Neither the young nor the old like to be helped. 

Steven Luria Ablon, poet and adult and child psychoanalyst, teaches child psychiatry at Massachusetts General Hospital and publishes widely in academic journals. His poems have appeared in numerous anthologies and magazines such as The Brooklyn Review, Ploughshares, and The Princeton Arts Review. He has published five full collections of poetry including Tornado Weather (Mellen Poetry Press, 1993),  Flying Over Tasmania (The Fithian Press, 1997), Blue Damsels (Peter E Randall Publisher, 2005),  Night Call (Plain View Press, 2011), and, most recently, Dinner in the Garden (Columbia, South Carolina, 2018).