Seymour Shubin

Seymour-Shubin

Seymour-Shubin
I and we have lost a friend, brother, contributor and poet.It is with a heavy heart that we embed this page. Seymour is embedded in my heart. We published his first poems in 2011 and have rejoiced when they came.

We will not publish for one week in honor of our friend.
The last poem he sent to me was written in 2012

I have been doing this for a long time in internet time, since 1997. I have always published poems as they came in rather than have issues. When they don’t come in I write poems myself. I am the earliest example of how very close to people you can become on this thing.

You can love people
you’ve never seen,
or have seen once
on this thing.
Love them as surely as the sun
if that is sure

I have heard of this place
they call heaven.
If this man is not there
I respectfully
decline the invitation

Seymour, my friend,
they are saying your 93 years was a long life.
For me it was three years
that I knew you
and that’s just not enough
and, to me,
you died so young.

david michael jackson

Wasn’t It | by Seymour Shubin

Why Me

Wasn’t It?

I remember, when I was a kid,
hearing that if you wanted to be anything
in medicine or any of the sciences
you had to go to Germany
you had to study there.
But it was of no interest to me
since I was just a kid.
But it came back to me
like a blow
when some months later
I saw a man sitting in what was
described in the newspaper
as a Jew in a garbage wagon
being paraded by what were called
brownshirts.
But that was just an ugliness,
I remember thinking.
After all, that was the world
of the sciences,
wasn’t it?
What could ever happen there?

Why Me

Barbara Brett‘s review

Aug 22, 13
Read in August, 2013

 

“A poem…begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness…. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words,” Robert Frost wrote nearly a century ago. The words are as true today as they were then, and they are a particularly apt description of the forty gems in Seymour Shubin’s eloquent and moving poetry collection, Why Me?. This is the first time that Shubin, best-selling author of crime fiction, has turned his hand and his heart to poetry, and it is as close as he has ever come to autobiography. Every poem opens a window on a thought, a longing, an incident that though unique to the poet also shines a light on the life of the reader and awakens the warmth of recognition in his or her heart. From the poignant “Wait Your Turn” that opens the collection to the heart-rending “Joel” that ends it, the book is a journey of discovery for its author and of rediscovery for his readers. Why Me? Shubin asks, wondering why he is still here when so many other loved ones have gone before him. But every reader of this book comes away with the answer: “It’s because we need the insight and wisdom you give us in this beautiful book, Seymour Shubin—and we long for more.”

The Dancers, The “Narcotics Poem” by Seymour Shubin

johnny cash

 

THE DANCERS

I was a cop.
so to speak, for that night,
and followed the real ones
into the lonely places,
the dives and the homes,
and saw the children crying,
and the poor mothers crying
and later on the way home
heard a cop saying,
“It should be fun tonight,
seeing them dance
in their cells,”
and heard me
whispering to myself
“No more of this,
Dear God, no more
no more.”

Seymour Shubin is a famous writer of crime and the psychology of crime. In a short and stunning way he has put an emotional edge on a serious issue.

The incarceration of Americans in the War on Drugs has reached epidemic proportions in the Black and Hispanic communities, but the impact is on the white community too.

All of the hot debates such as the right to bear arms, jobs, social security must seem meaningless to a large percentage of our population because of felony records for non violent “crimes”. The very records which should identify violent people are being handed out like playing cards and have had a definite Jim Crow effect.

Here is an excellent article by Michelle Alexander Michelle Alexander on The New Jim Crow and the school-to-prison pipeline

We support Michelle Alexander’s efforts and thank Seymour Shubin so much for this poem which so well shows the sorrow which must be there in the police as well. Bravo! Bravo!

This subject is what my humble song is about:
Joe Clark by David Michael Jackson

The Dancers © 2014 by Seymour Shubin

Image: Johnny Cash….We are using this image because we believe Johnny would be with us 100 percent.

david michael jackson May 9, 2014

Age, A Poem by Seymour Shubin

Ode to Myself Poem

Age poem

AGE

You said what?
He said Just,
you know,
I don’t know how to say it.
Well try I said.
All right.
All right.
When did this happen?
I mean the age business
where everyone is younger
than you.
Alright me, the you
was just an expression.
Anyway I can still do anything
I used to
or almost.
Well, nearly almost.
All right, some of the things.
But hey why is everyone so fussy
about a
a few years?
Damn
Why so fussy?

Why Me Age © Seymour Shubin

Screen Print  Mirror 2 © David Michael Jackson

No Kiss, a Poem by Seymour Shubin

Kisses

 

No Kiss

I’m sure, she said, you understand,
no kisses tonight
I have this cold, and so much
to do this week
And we have, you and I,
so much time, really now
well,, just a hug, she agreed,
Our heads to the side
Just this
Until
Where are you? she said

 

Why Me

Why Me? Shubin asks, wondering why he is still here when so many other loved ones have gone before him. But every reader of this book comes away with the answer: “It’s because we need the insight and wisdom you give us in this beautiful book, Seymour Shubin—and we long for more.”……. Barbara Brett

Ask of Me, a poem by Seymour Shubin

Ask of Me

Ask of Me

I could have asked
so many things
like what was it like
leaving old friends
and an old land
then learning a new language
and even starting a business
and of her my mother
so many questions
I never got around to ask
of her either
and now I wait
for it is my turn
with children
for though from the same country
we don’t always speak,
so to speak,
the same language

A brief autobigraphical statement by Shubin:


I start off by saying I could have asked of my father what it was like leaving old friends and an old land and even starting a new business (here), all of which my father did when leaving the Ukraine (as a young man). And there were many questions I could have asked of my mother, too, who too had come from the Ukraine, and met my father here for the first time. But I found out as a young man that age more than anything else separated.the old from the young. Yes. we don’t always speak the same language.

Why Me

Tale of the Runner, A Poem by Seymour Shubin

backup2

Tale of the Runner

I must have been six,
seven at most,
when this crazy neighbor woman
ask me to do her a favor,
and since you always did neighbors a favor,
I nodded and she brought around
this covered basket with two handles
that had wild scratching sounds inside it
and told me to take it to the creek
which was about a block away
and I carried it, hating myself
and I couldn’t wait to drop it
which I did,
in the field near the creak
not in it
as if that made a difference
to poor crazed kitty.
And I ran and ran
and ran and ran
but never far enough.

Seymour Shubin