Incentovise #5: Honor RBG & Kol Niedre
Updated: Apr 23, 2021
Step 1. Write word-centos of Ruth Bader Ginsburg tribute
poems in Oddball Magazine. (In non-shpiggidity-shpaggidity
speak, a word-cento is basically a rearrangement of
the words of a poem however you see fit, but only
using the words of the poet, particularly the words
in only one poem of said saint.)
WORD-CENTO OF MEGHA SOOD’S RBG POEM
Trailblazing voice dissenter, an epitome shimmering language, a language notorious for making naysayers engraved in trembles rightly, etched an absolute justice of dignity carved in victory for truth. My RBG speaks womanhood, the pedestal for life. My RBG is forever a metaphor for determination. My RBG is forever embroidered her rise, a raging strength, marks recovery from the pain of atrocity undefined, from the war against equality, a war of disgust, men caging life force with anger, men riddled by self and scars, men who scratched skin to fit in, refusing dignity, honor, not meant to be great, notorious, my RBG.
WORD-CENTO OF JOSHUA CORWIN’S RBG POEM
Nothing claimed empty prison, heaven blistered by thunder, avalanche sand through my hands of blood, celestial-oak stars whispering your bridge through inkblot meadows, but I am forced into freedom or the grave.
Justice never wasted a second. I cannot justify your memory upon heaven’s bright altar and sigh at the chimneys, crimes, sorrow, suffering, wash my hands and blow out the perplexed candle, ask mother for orchards of forgiveness and grow blissful in the wind of perpetual denial bandaging bondage from my mind…
underneath perplexed star light warping scabious heaven, warning your ocean, your ocean of tears Home.
WORD-CENTO OF DAVID DEPHY’S RBG POEM
Tomorrow’s stars and stripes won’t wait for a miracle, a needless dream to finish a war for fate’s dawn to fall in love with a grudge and fade away from your name and fall into a world of loneliness, and forget
WORD-CENTO OF CHAD PARENTEAU’S RBG POEM
Cry out to matriarch who mail last words made by a legion of her daughters who cry out to family surrounded by shame, who warn family no mistakes can be made now.
WORD-CENTO OF RICK LUPERT’S RBG POEM
Thank you, naysayer heads for talking politics to us with a burning punch.
Life turned in a year. Ruth, you stood for balance in evil water with colors of death. Ruth, we look up to see you.
WORD-CENTO OF DORIE LARUE’S RBG POEM
Unburied history makes me cry November, September, daylight night.
Unburied history kills the world today smoking crazy minds on the corner, shitting life.
Unburied history stabs the true whole hollow. In a flash fear kills itself with a spike.
WORD-CENTO OF JOHN STICKNEY’S RBG POEMS
Stars weep for over-turned angels of justice who’d understand unrecognized shadow alone in the sky memory walked for us all.
WORD-CENTO OF JACKIE OLDHAM’S RBG POEM
America birthed the Golem of Hate on an escalator of inequality, destroyed compassion, empathy, truth, humility; and evil descended on the Righteous Ones.
Emet alone, suffered cancer but conquered frailties of human fingers, bone passing the Hope gauntlet once more.
Once more, vote! Vote for compassion and empathy! Vote for truth and humility and freedom! with hard work, bid homage to a saint who forbade justice from passing by our fingers, who forbade homage to Beloved Freedom and gnarled Inequality with evil seeking sheep –
Make a double blessing now, anointed by the moment, now, in the hands of people, not sheep, but emet followers.
Now is the moment to bring out Truth, save virtues: to bring out Compassion, Truth, Freedom, Empathy, Bravery with Hard work and Sacrifice – to be the land of deathbeds no more, to be America birthed once more.
WORD-CENTO OF KAREN GREENBAUM-MAYA’S RBG POEM
Priggish Scalia opined divine his will convinced what founders thought firmly, unconstitutional.
WORD-CENTO OF PATRICIA CARRAGON’S RBG POEM
Baruch Dayan Notorious Justice. Like RBG, we become bitter herbs mixed with honey. L’Shana Kaddish. We become the bitter honey. We become herbs blessed with Ha’Tova, with Notorious Justice. Like RBG, we become bitter herbs mixed with honey. L’Shana Ha’Emet. We become Notorious Justice. We become RBG.
WORD-CENTO OF ROSEMERRY WAHTOLATROMMER’S RBG POEM
One step may inch toward justice, be a bridge toward forgiveness, edging change toward clarity, the strength I find when equity may feel slow, though every step toward change may feel leaden on step after step after step toward justice, toward truth, toward forgiveness, though I find my feet slow, stones every inch, I respect the grace of edging enough divisiveness one step as I go toward the bridge into another truth toward right now, with clarity and take joy in every step toward change.
Step 2. Kol Nidre is the day of atonement and forgiveness.
Listen to a live stream of Kol Nidre Services. Kindle the
flame—light a candle to memorialize those departed and
beloved, and listen. Let the words listen from within you.
Write the spirit from within and wherever your mind goes,
the pen and paper by your fingertips, write. Write. Write.
Write your meditative insert. Write the spirit of forgiveness
in solace, somber. Amen.
(NOTE FOR READERS: I’m omitting the meditative insert
here because this column would be way too long, it’s
already very long, and I’d like you groovy readers to enjoy
the aftermath, combo piece in Step 3.)
Step 3. Bang a gong and combine the meditative insert
and word-centos while listening to Jaco Pastorious &Ira Sullivan Qunintet, Ballye de Nina (1973) at “ThePlayboy Club;” Eddie Harris & Ira Sullivan – Live 1988Chicago Jazz Festival (Sept. 1, 1988); Thelonius Monklive in ’66: Lulu’s Back In Town; Horace Silver Quintent,“Song for My Father;” Eric Burdon & War, “TobaccoRoad (Live, 1970).” Usually, I make the word-cento the base, or ground piece, and inject the meditative insert into
the word-cento; however, since I have multiple word-centos
and a long meditative insert, the meditative insert will be the
RBG + KOL NIDRE TRIBUTE (COMBO)
Special thanks to Megha Sood, Joshua Corwin,
David Dephy, Chad Parenteau, Rick Lupert,
Dorie LaRue, John Stickney, Jackie Oldham,
Karen Greenbaum-Maya, Patricia Carragon &
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer.
The sacred portal of deep emotions
trailblazing voice dissenter,
an epitome shimmering language
I flame up a language notorious for making naysayers
and release promises engraved in trembles
heaven blistered by thunder
trembling rightly at the memory,
witnessing notorious avalanche sand through my hands
of blood commentary etched absolute justice, dignity,
humility, somber, solace, carved in victory for truth.
I confess my flaws, and find freedom
from the pain of atrocity undefined,
as I rediscover the dive of Being.
Being the drove of peace, I can be strong
in my repentance, a new human being.
My RBG is forever a metaphor
My RBG is forever embroidered
her rise, a raging strength, marks recovery
from the war against equality,
a war of disgust,
men caging life force with anger,
men riddled by self and scars,
men who scratched skin to fit in,
refusing dignity, honor,
not meant to be great,
Nothing claimed empty prison,
celestial-oak stars whispering your bridge
through inkblot meadows,
and I am forced into either freedom or the grave.
Tomorrow’s stars and stripes won’t wait for a miracle,
a needless dream
a war for fate’s dawn
to fall in love with a grudge
and fade away from your name
and fall into a world of loneliness,
Justice never wasted a second.
I cannot justify your memory
upon heaven’s bright altar
and sigh at the chimneys, crimes,
wash my hands and blow out the perplexed candle,
ask mother for orchards of forgiveness
and grow blissful in the wind of perpetual denial
from my mind…
And so, I tremble in gratitude, and enter the candle,
underneath perplexed star light
warping scabious heaven,
warning your ocean,
your ocean of tears
Home, the candle’s mind dwindling, flickering,
yet remaining ever bright with the sound of music
and the hum of humanity
words relished in a night of sadness
and blank glasses on my eyes. —
I am waiting.
Waiting for my reason, as I protest my own tears,
with shul-silence; – I want to forgive…
I want to forgive my fatigue, ardor-heaven grave.
Passionate equity. I want to know peace. And be still.
I want humanity to be at peace,
still and adored in sweet, serene silence.
I turn toward my heart and let oceans overflow
with “letting go” of past promises and doors unguarded,
unlocked by music, rhythm, harmony,
the hum of melancholia,
the stars of serenity shelter.
Why do you weep for me, O Angels in Heaven?
and here on Earth?
in the dust piles moaning?
Why do you weep for the women, men,
lives who have descended into suicide willingly…?
Unburied history makes me cry
November, September, daylight night.
Unburied history kills the world today
smoking crazy minds on the corner, shitting life.
Unburied history stabs the true whole hollow.
In a flash fear kills itself with a spike.
Am I willing to rise?
Willing to rise with each wind spread onto
the spur across time, beyond pre-eternal darkness,
past the guise that guides us into humanity.
Make a double blessing now,
anointed by the moment, now,
in the hands of people,
but emet followers.
I hear a soft voice, and listen to the music of time.
Stars weep for over-turned angels of justice
who’d understand unrecognized shadow
alone in the sky memory walked for us all.
“O, oceans, your resolve ever-guiding
with the strife of the merry and the plentiful?”—
“How do you walk into the silence of Being?”
—I ask the stars sighing in the sky, filled
with sunshine soliloquy,
as the choir speaks Hebraic melody
and ushers out gusts of wind, tyranny triumphs to
more and the melody cheerful fills me…
but I prefer the woe…
Why do I prefer the woe? The empty?
The tears of the forgotten?
Perhaps, perhaps you’re here and remember
who you are… —
You are the sand of all people
You are a spark, not a being borne
into a world of confusion.
You are the community of Divine.
So remember who you once were, and still are, –
for you have never descended
and you do not climb, but fly.
You are here with Me now,
with Saints of Suffrage.
Your oaths shall be outsung
by the Wind.
Your shivers, whispers, whimpers,
and trembles tumultuous
shall sine at last a light forever bright
in the brilliant darkness,
forever speaking secret Oneness,
One with ourselves, our soul, our
family, friends, Hashem,
and every Divine Name of Beauty,
the Beauty that outlives none but Eternity;
for it is Adonai Echad. —
Listen to the breath of Eternity…
Listen to the mountain moaning Your Name…
Listen to the Commandments and the inward
lightning of goodness, compassion,
Turn inward to fulfill Your Strength.
Uk’shartam l’ot al yadecha.
Set these meanings aside and be the letters
O Spirit, Ruach Ha’Emet, be my Neshamah
Of forever Forgiveness:
New Sinai speaks
L’maan tizk’ru vaasitem
viyetim kdosham Elochim…
Remember Anochi took us out of Egypt,
and though Egypt confronts us now,
We will be restoredi
to the mountaintop of our hearts
as evening descends upon us;
and hold our mitzvot and memory close
on the shelter of our heart,
and beat action mindfully
with all the Ruach of Ginsburg,
and all the Shechinah of Justice,
and be a light,
a beacon of hope in the dark nightsong upon us,
with strife and death, decay and ugliness.
God, I have shattered into slumber for far too long.
Let me awaken anew spark, and pick up the pieces,
ready to answer the call past infinite illness and war,
feed the hungry
with your heartsoul beat into my memory,
as you descend from heaven, and carry me safely
on wings of love —
for you are ki El Melech chanun v’rachum Ata,
O Sovereign of Compassion.
buried in the stillness on the child’s face,
my beloved heart
awaiting unveiling, revealed courage to stand,
and pledge allegiance to the Beauty. –
The Beauty that is Adonai:
s’fatai tiftach ufi
ufi yagid t’hilatecha. —
O, ocean, let me be.
The congregation asks me to pray in
And I peer deep into my own candleflame of
as I write with blue pen mind,
and penchant repentance,
pen chant repentance,
in the peasant soul I am asking for holiness;
I now cry for You day by day.
Selah. Shalem. Wholeness. Gratitude roots waves
of thoughtless cries, shrikes of uncertainty,
but it starts with the sense of wholeness
in the forgiveness… I wake to lanterns,
open my heart with the Peace that is Yours
to give. Shalom rav al Yisrael am’cha
tasim l’olam –
I want to be Your gift to Israel this year,
when Kiddush seems empty,
and there is no Farbrengen to give;
and I want to devour my eyes,
so I can’t see this Darkness,
I ask You to breathe the Book of Life
and inscribe principles bold and mighty,
peaceful as the prophets,
and as honorable as the stillness of the night
in the midst of the chaos of it all.
Anachnu, v’chol am’cha beit Yisrael!
l’chayim tovim ul’shalom!
And be boxes kept in the covers revealed
as the candlelight still remains ever supernal,
I beat my chest and repent, —
We betray, we steal, we scorn and act
And I am here to admit that I am in the
cloud of darkness.
Ashamnu, bagadnu, gazalnu, dibarnu dofi,
He’evinu, v’hirshanu, zadnu, chamasnu…
I weep for the pen that wanders eerily onto
the page of white,
and ask for beating to cease.
And I chant.
Baruch Dayan Notorious Justice.
Like RBG, we become bitter herbs
mixed with honey.
We become the bitter honey.
We become herbs blessed with Ha’Tova,
with Notorious Justice.
Like RBG, we become bitter herbs
mixed with honey.
We become Notorious Justice.
We become RBG.
I chant for goodness,
gladness and peace uniting us all,
despite all the failures and the malice,
secrets, poisons and points
that I poured into the ocean this year,
and locked my Samaritan in the closet of descension,
and forgot that I always held the key close to my heart.
And so I pause for the lost,
Spirit expand and encircle those suffering,
struggling to recover physically,
mentally, emotionally, spiritually,
and let the golden Ash be lamented
with the chant al Kaddish Ramah,