Squirrel Hill

“The two most engaging powers of an author are to make new things familiar, and familiar things new.”
     — Samuel Johnson
Eyes of the author.

Rosaly DeMaios Roffman

PHOTO: Rosaly DeMaios Roffman

Rosaly DeMaios Roffman, Professor Emerita, taught literature and writing courses at Indiana University of Pennsylvania. She also founded and directed a Myth/Folklore Studies Center at IUP. Co-editor of Life on the Line and author of I Want to Thank My Eyes (Tebot Bach, 2012), Going to Bed Whole, Tottering Palaces, The Approximate Message, and In the Fall of the Sparrow, she has collaborated on 20 pieces with potters, composers, musicians, and dance/theater companies. She is the recipient of a National Endowment Grant and a Distinguished Faculty in the Arts award. She has read her work in Ireland, Mexico, Greece and Slovakia. Her poems have been translated into Mandarin, Japanese, Slovak, and Hebrew. She has published in journals, magazines and anthologies and was invited to read her poems on a BBC production entitled the "Wild and the Sacred."

The Grace of Invention

Where inventions come from
is one holy place.
Inventing car-energy
and light and planes is holy.
The kindness of the man
who invented little pins is holy.
And whoever thought of flutes,
and writing down notes for more music
is holy. Be careful when you joke
about levitation and lifting off
from your body, that’s holy.
The Chinese have known for centuries
which peaches and brushes are holy
and breezes through the banyans are holy
as is one man’s wisdom of numbers,
and the pleasures of coming down rain,

Just thinking of what is holy is holy.
The Professor Watches the Male Nurse

You wear your ice mitts like a prizefighter
and kneel as if in prayer, cradling those packs
around his feet. You turn him over in bed,
feed him his eggs with all the sureness that comes
from drinking with the men in Tanoma
before they sewed up that old mine—
those buddies whose language was fouls and runs
all of them volunteers in Viet Nam, all of their sons
still football players, driving reluctantly now
to a university some people consider the enemy

But the sureness of the I-V needle
like an ancestral pickaxe in the rock
startles even you, lets your eyes meet his
while you change the bag for him, give him
a sip of water, and without speaking,
take away his diapers—yes, startles even you
new to holding men, and rocking this one
till he went under—startles even you
who worked beneath the earth like him
and came up all black and proud once

Oh, I want to tell you as I stand by this door
that every Greek hero had permission to do this—
to find his sacred womanhood without making speeches

And I am on my knees
to you whose name I don’t know
and to those great gods

who wouldn’t have any of that

My friend told me his little girl
is reading to him in Gibsonia—she is five
and reciting whole books of 3 letter words

Myth again, the magic of three
I told him I would get into the act
get and act—1 would try to write

a small one for her, a 3 letter word book
while waiting for my voice to return
from the unspeakable, can I do this

can I do anything, everything seeming unseemly
and could one dancer I have to meet tomorrow
dance this piece, could we—she and I with work

arrange a story, start the world again with bee
or could we start over with green pea
or cat and have a world with a blue light lit

could we have toe and try and tin
Could try become rub and could we rub
into man and toy and nap what is worthy

what is worthy and then go on to 4 letters
4 letters—teach kind, teach kind
with hurt and deal and move

Could we make a place for safe
a safe children of the world place
I can only ask the sages and gods

to help, to take us past death, past the voice
past the dance, and for little hands holding a book
please take us beyond raw and win and now
Books by Rosaly Roffman:

I Want to Thank My Eyes (Tebot Bach). Going to Bed Whole

purchase at Amazon.com

Books edited by Rosaly Roffman:

COVER: Life on the Line

purchase at Amazon.com