Karen Jakubowski

Letters

Poet Karen Jakubowski daylights as a paralegal – real estate is her niche. She can be found in coffee shops or reading tarot. Karen is a Pushcart Prize nominee. Local Gems Press released her poetry collection Scrawny Girl in 2013. Her poetry has appeared in numerous on-line journals and print anthologies.

Samples

Loose Ends

A variegated skein of yarn
alight with vibrant colors,
Ends tucked tight, neatly
hidden from prodding fingers.
All and sundry tug on random strands.
Force of will pulls in every direction.
Holding fast, I become a knotted tangle.
If they unearth beginning or end
and unloose the maelstrom
I will certainly unravel.

Coney Island Crazy

Hear the click of your heels slapping travertine
like a coaster car clacking up the chain lift.

I want to ride each and every turn of your body.
Feel the adrenaline rush, that drop in my gut

as I plummet into the valley of your curve
ventricles open wide, pulsing.

My arms reach skyward, to the heaven
in the crinkles framing your coffee eyes.

I thrill in the twist of your joints,
the looping gesture of your embrace.

Crave the rickety sway of wood slopes and dips
won’t settle for steel’s imitation acceleration.

I have no brakes. Gravity hurtles me,
and I cascade into the cyclone of you.

Community

Flicker of candlelight
my only heat, but
not my only warmth.

Why does it take
natural disaster to bring love?

Long Island is somber.
We have been warned by Sandy.
Humbled by a hurricane.

Men in yellow trucks
swarm like bees.
Flitter to each yard,
each devastation.
They come with gloved bulk, and
we watch our lives being carted away.

I pass military vehicles
in my neighborhood.
It has become a community.

We are stoic and proud.
Stand in streets sharing losses.
Few tears are shed.
We are lost souls
trying to salvage what is left
our homes, our memories, our lives.

It is so much more
Than replacing a favorite
sweater or waterlogged book,
more than a landscape destroyed.
We are base.
Our basic needs
now the root of thought.
No heat, no power,
for some no shelter or food.

We huddle together.
We pray.
We wait.
Aid please come
          soon.