Category Archives: Eve Toliman

ANKH

Ankh by Eve Toliman Anna Akhmatova. Just the sound of your name softly hammering against the roof of my mouth calls me, gently, into order.  Anna Akhmatova. If one such as you once lived then I want to live here … Continue reading

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EVE TOLIMAN

MEMORIAL by Eve Toliman I grieved so much.  I saw you pale and fearing. That was in dream.  And your soul rang.   All softly my soul sounded with it, and both souls sang themselves: I suffered. Then peace came … Continue reading

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EVE TOLIMAN

Photograph by Gene Ark JUST NOW by Eve Toliman “Nothing gets easier with the passage of time, not even the passing of time.”  Joyce Carol Oates The scent of orange blossoms, the long autumn shadows across the floor, the cracked … Continue reading

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JOY

JOY by Eve Toliman This is what it feels like to be lost: an unnameable sadness; a tender, probing affinity with alienation. Is that an oxymoron — affinity with alienation? I gingerly touch the world around me, searching, affirming, “This … Continue reading

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BREATHE AND BE SUNG

BREATHE AND BE SUNG by Eve Toliman I had been anxious for two days.  It felt like glass in my blood.  It wasn’t just repairing the old house that was wearing us out.  We’re gypsies at heart not homeowners.  The … Continue reading

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I WANT TO BE BETTER

Reclining Buddha carved in the Ajanta Caves in Northern India, dating to the 2nd century B.C. I WANT TO BE BETTER by Eve Toliman I once read about a young man who joined an ashram (I think his name was … Continue reading

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I DREAMT OF MY FATHER LAST NIGHT

I DREAMT OF MY FATHER LAST NIGHT by Eve Toliman I dreamt of my father last night.  He looked handsome driving the car; calm and steady.  I was young.  He was 42.  In a small, crackly voice, I thanked him … Continue reading

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PRODDING BAUDELAIRE

Photographic negative of Charles Baudelaire by Félix Nadar, 1862, Musée d’Orsay. PRODDING BAUDELAIRE by Eve Toliman These days find me hunting through my books, searching through the past, tracking down the random bits that have survived time’s unrelenting sedimentary procession … Continue reading

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REFLECTION

Tom Schultz, c. 1961, oil on canvas. BENEATH THE DAMAGE AND APOLOGY by Eve Toliman I spent a hot morning in Ukiah reading a book of Kay Ryan’s pristine, turn-me-inside-out poems. “Carrying a Ladder” knocked a little hole in me. … Continue reading

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