A selection of poems by Nina Pick. Grandchild of Holocaust survivors, and an integrative spiritual counselor, Pick works to revive Judaism through the gifts of female spiritual leaders and heal intergenerational trauma. She’s a Reiki Master, a Waldorf educator, and a fellow at the Yiddish Book Center’s Wexler Oral History Project.
By Dietmar Dath
“We badgers,” said Georgescu, the green badger, sitting in the red sand in front of the Pielapiel Palace in the City of Sleep, “don’t much like violence. But when it happens, we’re ready.” The palace had not yet been inaugurated. Otherwise rough-spoken Gente such as Georgescu would have been shooed away from the great court. She was a thoroughly practical thinker, this badger, and was considering the strategic, tactical and operative prospects for a new clean- up operation against Homo sapiens sapiens.
Selected, with an introduction by Seph Rodney
The poems of Nina Pick selected for this issue of The Nomadic Journal demonstrate the powers Pick brings to the page: some poems are acts of startled witness, others confessional quests for comprehension, still others describe the movement of the speaker toward a romantic other…
By Niña Weijers
There were two reasons why the situation didn’t depress me too much. First there was the proximity of the water. I’d often walk over to the bridge opposite the Maritime Museum, where I’d lean against the railing … the water was as drab and impervious as the cargo ships sliding through it. Sometimes I longed to live on such a ship, although I couldn’t tell you why. The second reason was an obsession I’d developed for the other side of the street. It consisted not of houses, but of a long, not very high wall.
In the spring of 2015 The Nomadic Journal encountered the eclectic collage works, painting and poetry of Guy R. Beining. Since the 1960s, Beining has published thousands poems, as well as dozens of collections of poem-novellas and chapbooks, and has had his artwork gracing the covers of zines and literary magazines.