Newest Book - Now Available

New Mexico-Arizona
Book Awards
Poetry Book

Where to Buy

This book, published by Black Swan Editions, may be ordered directly from the poet:

(add $2.50 postage per book)

Jane Lipman
P.O. Box 721
Tesuque, NM 87574

Poet, Beauty Maker, Jane Lipman delivers crafted, sensuous poems of her seen and felt world, her beloveds, and the Beloved, poems of revelation; tender celebrations of landscape and birdscape. The poems speak urgent, velvet Truth to Power. Grace, gratitude, and then, the quicksilver of the poet's talented wordromp— for the pure joy of it! Ancient Bardic energies thrum here, and the immediacy of the utterly, freshly seen! These poems manage a near-miracle: sound, clear language for Consciousness: a new and much needed Spiritual Literacy. I am enchanted by this book of passionate Heartsongs, wise, and well sung.
— Judyth Hill, author of Speaking With Angels

To find humor and lyricism joined in a volume of poetry is a rare surprise. The lush, sensual poems in Jane Lipman's first full-length book are at once playful and wildly imaginative. Infused with the beauty of this world, they remind us to “Pull a smile out of your hat/ as a magician pulls out of his/ the rabbit of grief.”
— Jean Nordhaus, author of Innocence and The Porcelain Apes of Moses Mendelsshon

Jane Lipman’s poems gather her wit, intelligence, and wisdom the way honey comes together out of the flower, the bee, and the hive. This eros of intellect and spirit delights my attention. Poems worth waiting for, and you didn’t even know you were waiting, by a poet who has paid her poetic dues by a long allegiance to her art.
— Joan Logghe, Santa Fe Poet Laureate for 2010–2012, co-author of Love & Death: Greatest Hits, NM Book Award winner


Two Poems from the Book On the Back Porch of the Moon


Next Time
for James McGrath

I’ll be tamarisks
below sandstone cliffs            
a pool of deep clear water
transparent to the bottom
I’ll be cougar
climbing rimrock
hundreds of feet high              
over a gliding rill
I’ll be a broken place
a fissure where driftwood
bobcat or child
can curl and rest
I’ll be water hurtling down a dry bed of sand                         
wave following wave
plunging, tumbling
into flood
I’ll be gorge sculpted by water and time
grand arches flaring red
reflected in quiet water
I’ll be steps to steep summit
carved into rock
and reverberations between cliffs
echoing wall to wall
I’ll be crags and curved terraces
shadow-filled; rococo silhouettes carved
in beige and mauve, purple and umber
I’ll be canyon cathedrals
domes and pinnacles
jubilation of sun, rain and wind                     
in thrall to streams pelting swift         
a thousand feet below
at the heart of it all


Notes to the Over-Soul

Teach me gravitas, étude, Haggadah.
Teach me à danser sur le pont. 
Teach me to stilt-walk on my beloved hills
in wind and smoke.
Teach me green unfolding
along the rain shadow of the Ortiz.    
Teach me black quinoa and black
bear slumbering under the box elder.
Teach me Misha Veinberg eating summer
grapes—juice dripping down his fuzzy beard.
Teach me ravines and grottoes, and how
to pass through the portal into Otherness.
Teach me how a human being, through stages
turns into a faerie.
Teach me how stairwells hold twilight.  Hold me
‘til I hear birdsong inside the egg.


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