The Three Tomatoes’ poets, have new poems that cover a range of emotions that will make you think, make you laugh, and pause for just a moment.

January 12, 2023

46 years ago today

my mother got remarried.

I was 9 and wore a skirt and vest

with tiny printed rosebuds

littering the stiff red velvet fabric.

I remember getting dressed

and waiting to go to Lutèce,

an old school

fancy French restaurant in midtown,

apt in retrospect

because my mother’s new last name

would be Paris,

different from mine.

My stepdad to be

sent over a small bouquet for me.

I remember a white plastic funnel

was the receptacle

for baby pink and red roses

punctuated by baby’s breath.

That and the polyester blouse

under my vest

are the only white I recall that day.

It was a small luncheon gathering.

What I can picture most

is the room and the rabbi.

He was my stepfather’s reform rabbi,

also different from mine,

and called me by the wrong name

during the ceremony.

So last night

when I realized that today

would have been an anniversary,

I thought I could summon

a lot of detail,

but I can’t.

I remember not feeling happy.

I remember returning

to my grandparents’ apartment

to stay with them

while the bride and groom

honeymooned in Palm Beach.

I do not recall

who suggested we let my bridal bouquet

dry out

to have a sweet smelling

dusty faded keepsake

propped up on Nana’s dining room sideboard

for years,

until its petals

just kept cracking

more than surviving,

and its sweet smell

dissipated into the musty

stagnant domestic air.

I must have worn my pretty outfit again,

but I don’t remember that either.

~Nicole Freezer Rubens, author of “The Long Pause and the Short Breath”

To Change with the Times

Shakespeare said, “all the world is a stage “,

For our modern times, TikTok is the rage,

No more books for our interests to engage,

It’s the internet that entices instead of a page,

I’m a curious girl who loves a good story,

Remember the book, Tuesdays With Morey?

About a lonely old man who outlived every friend,

Stayed wise and aware until his mortal end,

I love turning pages, the feel of a book,

Perhaps a story of how the earth really shook,

When a protagonist realizes a pretty female took,

His breath away with a sexy sad look,

Remember when we watched films in a movie house,

As hundreds with you were as quiet as a mouse?

The only sounds were crinkling bags of candy,

Or a laugh or two when the lead seemed randy,

Today we stay home to watch Netflix and Prime,

We even work from home so much of the time,

I’ve just made up my mind so you will see,

There is a place for all of us to adapt and be,

Old fashioned and modern, a mixture as we,

Decide to adapt or stay on the periphery,

The fact is it’s quite the same quandary,

As I turn again to Shakespeare’s, “to be or not to be”,

I am a work in progress trying to keep up with change,

It takes so much energy to entirely rearrange,

The old world and the new one to fit my needs,

However, history shows that a little time succeeds,

In adapting all of us to change. But do I really want it?

That is the question.

~Carol Ostrow, author of “Poems from My Pandemic Pen”

Approval

I have finally arrived

It has literally taken a lifetime

To believe

In every part of my body

That I no longer need approval`

~Stephanie Sloane, author of “Dear Me”

Wheel is always turning

~Madlyn Epstein Steinhart, author of “Put Your Boots on and Dance in the Rain”

OLD AND NOW

On 2,

In Lucerne, there are old and newer

Things and all sort of things to remind

You of recent things.

A blue trolley, a grand stone hotel, a

Yellow casino across from a gray church

Where young men parked bicycles to go

To pray in the picture postcard.

There’s a palace, and who lives there?

Then brand new buildings that are tiered

Like wedding cakes brimming with green

Shrubbery and a short little building with

Posters of Superman.

The bike rider passes the orange truck

And then the park, always a park so the living

Can remember these streets, these days,

And then keep going and move on.

~ Marjorie J. Levine, author “Road Trips”