Lisa Zaran

Rookie (September 26,1969 / Los Angeles, California)

Lisa Zaran Poems

1. Where's Your Tambourine Now, Sleeping Bear? 7/19/2005
2. Lingering 3/5/2006
3. Dedication To Those Unfairly Undone 12/14/2008
4. For A Girl 7/4/2010
5. Go On 4/27/2007
6. Girl 7/20/2005
7. Punishment 2/21/2015
8. A Dream Of Her Concern 3/5/2006
9. The Blues Are All The Same 7/19/2005
10. Fractions 2/21/2015
11. Hair 6/13/2004
12. Homeless 7/4/2010
13. Grief 2/21/2015
14. Tenderness 4/27/2007
15. Absolving The Eye 6/13/2004
16. Love Is Believable 7/21/2006
17. Subtraction Flower 7/21/2006
18. The Great Ones 7/20/2005
19. Confession 7/4/2010
20. The Troubled Boy 7/21/2006
21. The Best Thing 6/13/2004
22. The Unnameable 2/21/2015
23. Rivers 7/19/2005
24. Sanctuary 4/27/2007
25. How We Are 5/30/2005
26. Talking To My Father Whose Ashes Sit In A Closet And Listen 7/20/2005
27. The Men In My Dreams 5/30/2005

Comments about Lisa Zaran

  • Natalie Tsacoumangos (7/31/2009 8:03:00 AM)

    Liza Zaran (that's how it was spelled on a pamphlet at Danville Community College) came to the local community college here. She read a few of her short poems and talked a little about how she began writing, and what it has meant to her. You could tell that she is very emotional about what she writes even if it is just a little one or two line statement. It has a very heavy meaning for her, and for many who read it. She encouraged me to be a little more brave about sharing things that I write. Now I just need to figure out how to get it out there for people to see!

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  • Max Reif (7/19/2005 9:14:00 PM)

    I'm surprised to find no comments here. I find your poems fascinating. 'Intriguing', I was thinking, and the next second, came across that word in 'Hair'.
    You have a great facility for creating lines.
    Your poems go a bit beyond my rational ability to put them together, sometimes, but I feel it's a good stretch for me.
    I hope you'll post more as time goes on.

Best Poem of Lisa Zaran

The Men In My Dreams

All the men in my dreams
are featureless.
I turn away and there they are.
Staring at me with their spotless faces.
I wish I could say
what color their eyes are
or whether they have straight teeth.
At first I think I am in love with them.
That perhaps they are my lovers.
But knowing tells me they are only there
to commit some small violence.
As they reach out with large hands,
what I want folds in on itself.
I wish to go, I long to escape,
but can not.
Just as they are close
enough to touch me,
I wake up, fists closed to reject.
Legs ...

Read the full of The Men In My Dreams

Absolving The Eye

We drink to the night.
To tradition. To the lake's
tinsel. To the goose bumps
crawling across our skin.
To the palest moon
I have ever seen.
To nostalgia.
To the tapering of trees.
To the hand's eye.

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