Zoe Greenberg – The Studio, Omega: Two Poems

The last letter of the Greek alphabet, in Christianity especially it is a symbol of the end and of the perfection of the world. Tielhard de Chardin [in his theory of evolution] called the goal at which humanity strives for the “point Omega”. (The Herder Dictionary of Symbols)

"Jesus" by Frances Sousa
“Jesus” by Frances Sousa


According to Daniel, Omega meant beauty.
But what did beauty mean to Daniel?
Somewhere to aim, the final goal, the arrow
Released into the waiting screen
In flinty starbursts
and then abandoned after target?
Endless vectors in perfect symmetry will build your
Cathedral; here stands this tower, she
Has long dark hair that hangs like
Stone walls around her stained glass interior

Men are known for their curiosity.
What damp smells are sealed within?
What voice lets go and rises to God?
Who is the madman hiding in the cloisters?

"Crystal" by Frances Sousa
“Crystal” by Frances Sousa

Where did they bury Demeter’s ashes

Some things remain silent.
Not this taste
This falling asleep and waking up
With you in my mouth
You slowly settle into my skull
until tongue and mind are one

How can you question my desire
When beauty holds your bow,
alert and vibrating
into the thick moonlit forest

"Luna" by Frances Sousa
“Luna” by Frances Sousa

Just break your mark
and I’ll fall simple
into the open tear,
the soft cleft that draws the arrow
as if the collapsing animal
welcomed the hunter that shot her

You can be the man you are without the symbol.

A seeker cannot carry much
And language can be heavy
I would prefer to see you naked
Wearing nothing but my passion

"Model Sketch" by Johan Lowie
“Model Sketch” by Johan Lowie

The Studio:

All those paintings
coming out the walls
and so many years
of steady devotion,
an entire man inside his work,
each peeling change unfurled
bannered and sanded into something object and outside.
Every piece that cracks, torment,
self-loathing, serenity,
on shape, on board.
A self can leave a remainder:
smudging, leaping, paint dancing,
pain lancing, yourself
made unavoidable
if you allow it:
all the images that pass through you
and the ones that barely touch before they move on
you’ve just got to keep letting it come out
keep letting it come out
into those waiting hands

Untitled by Johan Lowie
Untitled by Johan Lowie

Zoe Greenberg

Born in rural Canada, Zoe Greenberg moved to New York to study Film & Theatre at NYU. Her experimental films have been shown in New York City, Dublin, and Moscow, and her stories have been featured on the CBC Radio shows Sounds Like Canada and Wiretap. A chapbook of her poetry, Motion for Passion, was published by Lyrical Myrical Press. Currently she’s working on her third novel, Grushenka, the story of a Polish cleaning woman with a dissident poet past and her encounter with a group of young Brooklyn revolutionaries. She lives in Bushwick, Brooklyn.