Wednesday, June 29, 2016

DEW ETC.


I feel wet
not rain like but dew
like du, du liegst mir im Herzen do
like call me in the night do
like remember me in the darkness of the day do
like don’t leave any stone turned up do
like don’t without me do

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

COLD LIGHTS




Outside my window there is steam
and there are lights in a skyscraper
where people sit at their desks
and the lights let them work.

I bought two hot tamales
from the Mexican food cart
hoping it would warm me.

The lights are cold
as I see them
some go in rows 
running away from me
and others go in rows
perpendicular to me.

I like the ones that run away
as if they have a place to go
where at the end of the line
people are warm 
without coats.

(c)Alan Kleiman 2014

Friday, May 2, 2014

I want to share with you a beautiful review of my book GRAND SLAM that was just posted on Amazon from a reader in Australia:
Refreshment for the Soul
May 02, 2014
Grand Slam is a delightful collection of poems that will touch your heart and make you smile. Alan Kleiman’s poetry is unique in style and quirkiness, both thoughtful and entertaining. I keep his little book on my bedside table and reach for it whenever my soul needs some refreshment. I’m very happy to recommend it to readers.
COPIES OF MY BOOK ARE AVAILABLE ON AMAZON OR IF YOU'D LIKE AN AUTOGRAPHED COPY AND FREE SHIPPING SEND ME YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS to alkleiman@aol.com AND I'LL SEND A PAYPAL INVOICE AND THEN A BOOK!


http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/061585771X/ref=pdp_new_dp_review

Sunday, April 13, 2014

THE 23rd SONATA


















The day before,
My mother rang me up
Singing Beethoven’s
Appassionata first movement
Like it was written for voice
Into the receiver
I moved the phone farther from my ear
Not comfortable having someone sing into my ear
Especially something written for piano
Plus she was dead two years.

I listened like a good son though
Like a musician, the violinist at heart
And felt the Beethoven waft across my body
Like warm rage.

What’s that sound my wife asked from the other room
It’s your mudder-in-law
Breaking wind – I mean bread
From beyond the fringe of life

She thought I was a wise guy
Didn’t retort but ignored me
And I hummed the passionata
With all my heart and soul
With every fiber of my guts
Like the day I was born till
The day I’ll die.

(c) Alan S. Kleiman 2014
 published: AfricanHadithi - April 2, 2014




Tuesday, April 1, 2014

PEOPLE I KNOW

1.  I don’t know you
2.  You don’t know me
3.  He don’t know him
4.  Joe or Jim

5.  I knew him once
6.  I knew his brother
7.  Her name was Sue
8.  How do you do

9.   Sam
10.  And Dave
11.  Robert Hall
12.  McGillicuddy Burns
13.  Bill Shakespeare

14.  Tom Mahoney
15.  Fulla Baloney
16.  Crepes Suzette
17.  All is clear

The day before yesterday
Sally said
List your friends
As if you knew them.

There.   Everyone I know
Plus Jane
Minus Lou
The rest is like a stew.


Friday, November 29, 2013

ONCE IN A WHILE





By the old dock
Near the bridge
On the side where they kept the sailboats
Opposite the fishing fleet
The lobster catch was emptied 
Into the old shack
And sorted by weight


Once in a while 
A big old one got caught
Maybe 50 years old or more
And they’d keep it around for its special value
Until someone would come in
Wanting to buy it
Or just because it was there
Wanting to buy it
And then it was gone
Killed off and eaten
As if it were a common animal
Instead of a something.
And then the place returned to being
Just a lobster shack
With maybe a 4-pounder or so
On a good day.



 (c) Alan S. Kleiman 2013
 published: About Place Journal Vol II issue III - 2013


Wednesday, October 2, 2013

BODY WHISPERS



My bird chews quietly by the humming sounds
the cars outside passing between lights
the fan on the computer singing a steady drone
a door opening and closing as one leaves a room
saying I'm settling in

I read some poems of the famous
I listened to them speak their magic on colored videos
with talk show host
I saw these poets with their hairs all combed
and dressed up in poet clothes
with hems and cuffs
that skimmed the ground
where we would step

I was listening to my bird
chew a seed
and push one kernel aside
to find its favorite

You see, I had entered the holy room
where sometimes
on a clear day
a few words of my own
come together
and I smell my body whispering
poet.


 (c) Alan S. Kleiman 2013
 published: The Lake (UK) - 2013