Prompt: Advice, He Said

The first time I heard Hal Sirowitz reading his poetry was a revelation. His deadpan delivery, and self-deprecating humor, and domestic neurosis had the audience laughing like they were at a comedy club. (He reminded me of the comedian Steven Wright.)

Hal rose to prominence as a regular at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe during the 1990s slam poetry boom. Although seeing Hal read in person was definitely the way to go, he was not what you think of as a "performance poet."

Born in Manhattan and raised in Queens, Sirowitz’s work is rooted in the Jewish-American experience and the specific rhythms of NYC. He was best known for three collections of poems written in the voice of authority figures, including his mother, father, and therapist. All three offered unsolicited, guilt-ridden, and often absurd advice.

Put a Little Enjoyment in Your Life
All work and no play
makes Jack a dull boy,”
Father said, “which is why
we didn’t name you Jack.
We chose Harold. It means
‘Life’ in Hebrew, “Chaim.”
Please show more signs of it.
It’s too late to change names.

That poem and the others used as models on the website this month are available on Hal's website. Sirowitz is the author of five books of poetry: Mother Said, My Therapist Said, Father Said, Before, During & After and Stray Cat Blues.

Hal retired from a three-decade career as a New York City public school special education teacher. He then moved with his wife, the writer Minter Krotzer, to Philadelphia.

Hal Sirowitz passed away on February 24, 2024, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, at the age of 75. His death was the result of complications from Parkinson’s disease, a condition he lived with for over two decades. Despite the physical toll of the illness, Hal continued to engage with the literary community and write, often with the support of his wife, the writer Minter Krotzer.   

For the March 2026 issue, we are asking that you use Hal's style of short poems (14 lines or less) in the voice of someone (of some authority) giving advice. You should include his stylistic "said" that identifies the speaker. Is the advice unsolicited, guilt-ridden, or absurd? Perhaps. But it could also be valid, but unwanted, or only known to be useful at a later date. 

 The deadline, as always, is the last day of the month, February 28. 

---

---

Follow this blog for all things poetry.
To see our past prompts and more than 300 issues,
visit our website at poetsonline.org

Poems of This Day for Mothers

There is a wide range of ways poets have written about mothers. Poets.org collected a few examples as we approach Mother's Day.

I have posted several times poems concerning mothers.

Burt Kimmelman's poem "Taking Dinner to My Mother" served as a model for one of our writing prompts. Looking at it again now and thinking about another post I made the year my mother would be 92 feels strange to reread because my mother didn't make it to her December birthday that year.

I wrote about a Mary Oliver poem and how my mother might react to it. Burt's poem is knowingly about his mother just before she died.

But Mother's Day shouldn't be a sad day, even if your mother is gone, it is a time to think of the happier moments. Maybe read some funny poems by Hal Sirowitz from his collection Mother Said.
Or recall something as in Li-Young Lee's "I Ask My Mother to Sing" or this old poem for children by Robert Louis Stevenson.

To Any Reader

As from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look
Through the windows of this book,
Another child, far, far away,
And in another garden, play.
But do not think you can at all,
By knocking on the window, call
That child to hear you. He intent
Is all on his play-business bent.
He does not hear; he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.

But my favorite poem for my mom might be one by Billy Collins about a small gift we might give on this day as a child before we knew "that you can never repay your mother," I made at least one of the lanyards that Billy wrote about giving to his mom and I found it after she died in a wooden box that I had made in Cub Scouts along with some other small gifts I had given her.  I was just as sure of their value as Billy. And we were right.

Hal Sirowitz Said

We got a late start on November here at Poets Online because of Hurricane Sandy and a follow up nor'easter that played games with our power, so we have a new brief prompt for this abbreviated month.

Hal Sirowitz is one of the funniest poets I have ever heard read. There is something about his deadpan, Steven Wright delivery that makes his monologue poems sound like stand up routines.

Sons

We’re Jewish, Father said.
So we don’t believe in Christ.
If God wanted us to worship Jesus
he would have arranged for us to be born
into an Italian family. I have nothing
against Him. He was probably a very nice man.
You have to give Him credit for trying.
A lot of people still believe He’s the Son of God.
I don’t know what He had against His real father.
But if you ever did that to me,
said you were someone else’s son, I’d be insulted.

Many people know him best for his three "said" books - Mother Said, My Therapist Said and Father Said . In poems like "Red, Red Bra" and others, he gives us monologues that are full of irony, humor and Sirowitz.

A simple prompt: a poem that is all monologue. Mother said, father said, therapist, teacher, lover, wife, husband - it's your call.

Submission deadline: Sunday, December 2, 2012



                Hal Sirowitz - "Chopped Off Arm"