gershon hepner Poems

Matisse, the master of all color,
is far more thrilling, you might think,
than Jacob Ruisdael, who chose duller
colors that don’t make you blink.
...

Pure music tells no clichéd tale
concerning God or love or conquering sword;
it is composed in that fair higher scale
of consciousness where facts may be ignored.
...

He said to Clara:
'Do not tread
upon my melodies;
they flow
...

Good posture, diction and great legs,
with lubrication when he’s lupine,
are traits for which this poet begs,
seducing them to make them supine.
...

Though sexually they seem available,
alluring in their skirts both short and tight,
the deals with them may not be nailable
unless you get them just a little tight.
...

If to be or not to be is not
the question, what are the alternatives?
The answer is that there are not a lot
for those who suffer in the mind that lives
...

When Joseph tells his brothers: “I
am not God, ” he perhaps implies
that unlike God he sometimes lies,
and unlike Him, is doomed to die.
...

Though icecaps on a seismic crack may melt,
and plates that are tectonic
erupt, give up your share of Schmertz of Welt,
and be instead ironic,
...

“Define just what you mean by beauty, lady, ” said
the interviewer, but she didn’t flash her tits
to give her answer, though if she’d given head
she would have conquered in the Kulturkampf of wits.
...

Accepting what we cannot change
while changing what we can,
we males upon the human range
roam far less candid than
...