Published in No Crime in Rhymin’

·Pinned

how you can get on the short list of Medium writers to whom I subscribe

a how-to poem — From: Joe Váradi To: Your Friends at Medium, My Friends at Medium this email subscription thing even by Medium standards raises more eyebrows and questions than it answers we already have options a plethora of vices newsletters and digests to flood our inboxes and now, one more … a personal subscription to…

Poetry

2 min read

Published in No Crime in Rhymin’

·4 days ago

From Three Until Six

a verse translation of a poem by Jenő Heltai — translated from Hungarian by Joe Váradi From Three Until Six I came to visit you once, my Dear, after much pleading and behest, for this discrete purpose you rented a two-room flat in Budapest. Oh, don’t think I am in love with you, such far-fetched notions you may nix. …

Poetry

2 min read

Published in Intimately Intricate

·Aug 5

the roses in your minefield

a pair of tanka poems — by Joe Váradi the roses in your minefield I must forge ahead delicate treasures await among deadly traps will it cost a limb to reach the roses in your minefield…? your pencil me in you pencil me in tentative and frivolous but I write in ink my self-worth waxes and wanes as you requite, or shun me tanka is a form of classical Japanese poetry, composed of a 5–7–5 haiku (the “upper phase”) followed by a 7–7 line pair (the “lower phrase”)

Poetry

1 min read

the roses in your minefield

a pair of tanka poems

by Joe Váradi

the roses in your minefield

I must forge ahead
delicate treasures await
among deadly traps
will it cost a limb to reach
the roses in your minefield…?

your pencil me in

you pencil me in
tentative and frivolous
but I write in ink
my self-worth waxes and wanes
as you requite, or shun me

tanka is a form of classical Japanese poetry, composed of a 5–7–5 haiku (the “upper phase”) followed by a 7–7 line pair (the “lower phrase”)

Published in Dead Poets Live

·Aug 2

You Tell Me I Shouldn’t Write

a verse translation — It is worth noting that Ágnes Nemes Nagy, known for children’s verses and wordplay, wrote this unusually jaded piece amid the dark days of World War II, in August of 1943. You tell me I shouldn’t write. What, pray tell, should I do? Commit murder? Arts and crafts? …

Poetry

2 min read

Published in The Haven

·Jul 30

19 Marketing Slogans for the Biblical-Sounding Restaurant Opening in My Town

I saw this announcement just this morning, about a new restaurant opening in my town. It was in a community facebook post. Of the 76 comments thus far, all of them are congratulatory. Only one comment politely questions the thinking behind the restaurant’s name. People are so nice. Still, I…

Satire

2 min read

19 Marketing Slogans for the Biblical-Sounding Restaurant Opening in My Town

Jul 23

My Remarks at the Memorial Service Held for My Father

Budapest, July 16, 2022 — I made these remarks on the evening of Saturday, July 16, in Hungarian to relatives and close family friends in attendance. Below is the English translation. I’d like to welcome all of you. …

Family

8 min read

My Remarks at the Memorial Service Held for My Father

Published in Lit Up

·Jul 20

Mama

verse translation of the poem of the same title by Attila József — Mama’s been on my mind all week long as I start and stop, amble along. Creaking old basket held to her waist, she’d climb up to the attic with haste. I was rather honest, back then, I’d scream and stomp, in a tantrum. Leave the laundered sheets to another. …

Poetry

2 min read

Published in No Crime in Rhymin’

·Jul 9

Stacy’s Mom Strikes Again

A sequel of sorts to The Cologne Wars, a New York City-inspired run-on of quips and wisecracks, a stack of sonnets, arranged in three acts Act 1: A Refresher Come gather round, ye of immodest mind And hear this tale of the urban grind. ’Twas writ on these pages as of recent Of events sordid and quite…

Poetry

3 min read

Published in Intimately Intricate

·Jul 4

Amy Ate the Sun

a poetic response — Sunlight failed to break today, instead I heard a rumbling burp. The countryside lay dark and still; No rooster’s crow, nor warbler’s chirp. Girl, I get when nature calls those hunger pangs you must obey. But next time, pick some lighter fare, and leave some glow for us, I pray. …

Poetry

1 min read

Published in Writers On The Run

·Jun 26

Tall and Intrepid

interactive poetry — can you name this city? — by Joe Váradi Tall and Intrepid, your name — Literally — do our names shape us? do we aspire to our labels? insufferable as they are Your former moniker a tad more Pedestrian — “Wag the Dog”, the masses mocked yet a metropolis emerged from humid dust and blackened beaches …

Poetry

1 min read