Leftovers

Bread crumbs,
Pieces of food,
Drying on a table,
After a meal.

Petals,
Leaves of a flower,
Wet on the ground,
After a storm.

Teacups,
Echoes of conversation,
Circles on a glass top,
After a visit.

Prayer,
Whispers of hope,
Absorbed into the soul,
After a ceremony.

Longings,
Impressions of love,
Fading in time,
After a breakup.

Rainbow,
Arching of colors,
Glistening in sunlight,
After the rain.

Hope,
Filling the heart,
Ushering future,
When all else is gone.

 

April 14, 2019

כנפיים

,הַלַּיְלָה שׁוּב הָיִיתִי שָׂם
,חוֹזֵר לְהַמְשִׁיךְ אֶת שֶׁהִפְסַקְתִּי לִפְנֵי דּוֹר
,מַמָּשׁ כְּמוֹ שֶׁהִבְטַחְתִּי לְרַב סֶרֶן מְעוּטָּר
.בָּעֶרֶב הַהוּא, כְּשֶׁהַחֲלוֹם נִשְׁבָּר

,רִיצָה אֲרוּכָּה, הִתְנַשְּׁפִויות
,סְבִיבִי אֲנָשִׁים זָרִים
,בְּמָקוֹם מוּכָּר
.שֶׁשּׁוּם דָּבָר לֹא הִשְׁתַּנָּה בּוֹ, גַּם בַּחֲלוֹם

,רֵיחוֹת מִדְבָּר מְיוּחָדִים
,מַדִּים חֲמוּצִים, זֵיעָה צוֹרֶבֶת
,וְגוּף דּוֹאֵב תְּמִידִית
.מִמַּאֲמָץ שֶׁאֵינוֹ מַרְפֶּה

,בַּמְּצִיאוּת הַהִיא רוֹמֶזֶת הַיְּדִיעָה
,כְּמוֹ מַשּׂוּאַת מִגְדָּל מִמֶּרְחַקִּים
,שֶׂמָה שֶׁהָיָה כְּבָר לֹא יִהְיֶה
.אֲבָל כְּמוֹ אָז גַּם עַכְשָׁיו, מַמְשִׁיכִים

,בְּעוֹלָם הָעֵרוּת כְּבָר הֵבַנְתִּי מִזְּמַן
,לְאַט לְאַט, וְלֹא לְבַד
,שֶׁכּוֹל זֶה הָיָה רַק חֲלוֹם
.שֶׁחָלַמְתִּי בַּמְּצִיאוּת

,אַךְ בְחֶשְׁכַת הַלַּיִל אֲנִי דּוֹאֶה שׁוּב דָּרוֹמָה
,לַכְּאֵב, לַעֲיֵיפוֹת, רִיפְיוֹן, וְלַנְּחִישׁוּת
,וְשׁוֹאֵל אֶת עַצְמִי שׁוּב מִתּוֹךְ שֵׁינָה, אִם הַפַּעַם
.זֶה יִסְתַּיֵּים אַחֶרֶת

 

Wings

Tonight I was back there, again,
Returning to continuing what I have stopped a generation ago,
Just as I had promised a decorated Major,
That evening, when the dream broke.

Long run, gasping,
Surrounded by strangers,
In a familiar place,
Where nothing had changed, even in the dream.

Unique desert smells,
Sour uniforms, burning sweat,
And a constantly sore body,
From a relentless effort.

In that reality knowledge hints,
Like a tower beacon from afar,
That what was, shall not be,
But much like then, now too, carrying on.

In the woken world I have long since understood,
Slowly, slowly, and not by myself,
That all this was just a dream,
I have dreamed in reality.

But in the darkness of the night, I glide back south,
To the pain, the fatigue, the limpness, and determination,
And ask myself once more in my slumber, if this time,
It will end differently.

 

March 25, 2019

Hammer Times

We now live in the age of the hammer,
More so than we have done before,
We bring down the hammer to test objects, beliefs, people,
And solve most else we can with its blow.

In the age of the hammer, everything is a nail,
Objects, ideas, human, shatter in place, upon impact,
Tougher yet matters are hardened, pushed deeper into the surface,
In what seems to many like fortification and betterment.

The hammer is great for solidifying subjects in place,
Even more so for solidarity.
Smack one, smack two, smack three, are we done?
After a while, the blows become an obscured background noise.

Hammers are easy to carry and deploy,
No laws, no restrictions prevent them from so,
Free up the tool, let it bang to the masses,
The thunder of crowd and the will of the people.

Take caution, ol’ friends, plenty tools in the box,
For precision of craft, and fine-tuning of goal,
Turn and shape, push and roll, make true effort to end,
For results of unique, wholesome, artful, and right.

 

February 16, 2019

Filling

A clean white room, dimly lit,
No clock on the bare wall,
A single chair in the middle,
Inviting and repealing all at once.

Sit back in silence, wait,
The padding is misleadingly comfortable,
Voices chase from the hallway behind,
Extending the day with timeless anticipation.

They walk in, together, a team,
Take invisible positions to my sides,
Their voices friendly, engaging,
Will they hurt me? Will it be fast?

Movement. I drop back, then rise,
Bright light is shining in my face,
Jaw dropping, high-pitch sounds,
Eyes closed, I depart to another dimension.

A storm is brewing within me,
Gushing waters, swirling winds,
The sounds are deafening,
I am free, but am utterly bound.

Some unknown time later,
I am recalled from my sanctuary,
The tempest had subsided,
They help me back on my feet.

Walk toward the door, freedom,
I am not yet out, not yet,
The voice again behind me, warning,
Don’t eat or drink for another hour.

 

January 29, 2019

Bequest

The pulse that had slowed down to a murmur,
Stopped.
The breathing, which struggled for hours,
Became a whisper,
And ceased.

The still air in the room,
Slivery dust particles, frozen in place,
Like a faraway galaxy, barely visible,
Glistening.

A few doors down,
A nurse notes the monitor screen,
Flat.
A casual walk to the room.
At the side of the bed, wrist lifted.
Doctor, attending,
Wrist lifted once again.
Time of death, three fifteen.
Body covered, white sheet.
The door closes, the room is vacant,
The dust galaxy slows itself down,
From the interruption.

In a different place, miles away,
People will be notified,
Soon.
There, and in other spaces,
More will recall, remember,
A conversation, a day, a picture.
A life.

An endless set of gestures,
Decades in the making,
Come to harvest.
An act of help,
A sign of care,
A token of love,
A shrug of disregard,
A kind touch,
A word of inspiration.

A legacy that formed over a lifetime,
From countless action,
Dispersed to many,
Who will come soon,
To testify, at last,
For the one,
Who is no longer.

The bed is bare,
The room empty,
A silver galaxy rests still,
Glistening,
Outside the room,
In the world,
A legacy is born.

 

January 16, 2019

שירה

,שִׁירָה
,נוֹלֶדֶת מִתּוֹךְ הָרֶגֶשׁ
,מִצַּעַר וּכְאֵב
,מִגַּעְגּוּעַ
.מִמַּפָּח נֶפֶשׁ
,יוֹצֵאת אֶל הָאוֹר
.וְמִזְדָכֶכֶת
,וְהַמִּלִּים שֶׁבָּהּ
,עוֹבְרוֹת, חוֹלְפוֹת
,מְאוֹת אֶל דַּף
,מִפֶּה לָאֹזֶן
,מְלַטְּפוֹת חֶרֶשׁ
,מַרְגִּיעוֹת נְשָׁמָה
,מְרַפְּאוֹת מָזוֹר
.וּמְבִיאוֹת בְּרָכָה

 

Poetry

Poetry,
Born from emotion,
From sorrow and pain,
From longing,
From frustration.
It comes to light,
And is refined.
The words in it,
Pass, flee,
From letter to page,
From mouth to ear,
Quietly caressing,
Relaxing soul,
Healing pain,
And ushering blessing.

 

November 27, 2018

Prudence

Son and a brother,
Student and teacher,
What makes a boy,
At the end of the day?

Husband and father,
Leader and speaker,
What makes a man,
At the end of the day?

Lover and cheater,
Tough and a quitter,
What makes one right,
At the end of the day?

Saint and a convict,
Monster and spirit,
Who gets redeemed,
At the end?

 

August 8, 2018

Dust

A poem that no one hears,
A story that no one reads,
A rhyme that no one enjoys,
A play that no one acts.

A picture that no one sees,
A bloom that no one smells.
A song that no one sings,
A vision that no one dreams.

A table where no one dines,
A food that no one tastes,
A path that no one takes,
An ocean where no one sails.

A person that no one knows,
A kiss that no one lands,
A love that no one shares,
A child that no one bears.

Wishes, attempts, in abundance,
Hope everlasting, endurance,
Mother earth in a spin, dust particles float, glistening,
Let the fragments pollinate, life begins.

 

June 16, 2018

Olympus

Winding road climbs splendid valley,
Steep embankments, falling rock,
Ancient views and endless skyline,
Chilly air drops chilly worse.

At the crest of mountain highest,
Rests an ancient boulder, cold,
Shaped by winds and age-old rain falls,
White as bright crown to behold.

Brave souls make the pilgrimage to it,
Careful step up to the top,
Zeus for an instant, precious,
Seize the moment in a thought.

Open, bright blue skies to heavens,
Deep abyss lies deep below,
Soaring bird’s eye view, intoxicating,
Spirit high for nature’s glow.

Road of life is likewise open,
Going far and thinking big,
Take the challenge, rush the goal post,
Reach as far and high can be.

 

May 2, 2018

Romantica

Where will I go next?
Where am I headed?
Wondered the young girl,
Turning to bed.

Is there a prince for me?
Will there be castle?
Magic and sorcerers,
Marriage and wealth?

Where will I go next?
Where am I headed?
Asked the young woman,
Reading her book.

Will he be honest?
How will he treat me?
Travel together?
Stay home and drink?

Where will I go next?
Where am I headed?
Rocked tired mother,
Her baby to sleep.

Will he keep own vows?
Love and respect me?
Help crying baby,
In trying long nights?

Where will he go next?
Where is he headed?
Laid skillful woman,
In empty bed wide.

Will he be a good man?
Loving and trusted?
Caring for loved ones,
Truthful through life?

What will I teach love?
How do convey trust?
Can my hug transfer,
Wisdom and wish?

Cruel is the world,
Stronger the people,
Hope love eternal,
Dreams lost awake.

Heartbroken mended,
New love horizon,
Daybreak, fresh morning,
Headed success.

 

March 19, 2018