Standing for Kaddish that first time is surreal. This poem captures the multitude of feelings as I stood in temple to recite Kaddish for my father Ken Kipnes.
I am still a mourner. A poem about how my body - tears, trembling shoulders, welling up of emotions - remind me that I am still a mourner. Remembering my father, Ken Kipnes.
Low level sadness, right beneath the surface, is the constant guest in the heart and mind of the mourner. This poem reflects those feelings during shloshim for my father, Ken Kipnes, Papa.
A spoken word poem about the theological questions that arise after the death of a loved one. Written as I think about my father Ken Kipnes.
A video that explores what it feels like to be a mourner, featuring my poem - The Secret Life of a Mourner.
A poem about my experience as a mourner following the ritual of not shaving during Shloshim.
A poem about what a mourner experiences, hidden away from the rest of the world, sometimes hidden even from friends or community members
A poem about the challenges of finding poetry (and meaning I can hold onto) during shloshim for my father
A poem about that first day after shiva, when a mourner walks into a room of people for the first time. About my experience mourning Papa (my father Ken Kipnes).
A poem written on a Jetblue flight carrying me home from my father's funeral. Flying as a metaphor...
Spoken word poetry about a rabbi who now has to be the one who sits shiva and let's other take care of him.
Spoken word poetry about seeing Dad in the mirror, and seeing dad within me.
A mantra that I repeated again and again when I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that my father had in fact died.
A spoken word poem about a rabbi who realizes that after all the pastoral support for people whose loved ones have died, he never really knew what it felt like. Until his own father died.
Spoken Word Poem: Our congregant kid was in that Country Western Dance Bar. He's Okay. I'm not. I've had enough.