An invisible nip pen,
Deeps in veiled well.
A dark dot forms,
On virgin paper.
More specks follow,
To form letters and words.
A line grows,
Like coal raindrops,
On a bright day cloud,
Short lines, longs strokes,
Comma, comma, full stop.
Backhand pushes against the paper,
Fingertips darken slowly.
Page follows page,
Turned by fresh thoughts breeze,
Ideas keep flowing,
From a dream.
Writing hastily each vision,
Right as it appears,
Inscribed pages,
Accumulate in a pile.
Short anecdotes, long tales,
Pages fly in the dark,
Captivating stories,
Late into the night.
Stay out there, don’t wake up,
Sleep tight ‘till they’re done,
Once you open your eyes,
They’ll be instantly gone.
This party’s nice and special,
I like the dress you wear,
Second hour English,
I sit three chairs left, rear.
How do you like this music?
The DJ’s fun and hip,
This song he played is awesome,
Would you like to dance a bit?
≈≈≈≈≈
This spot is great, let’s sit here,
The view is nice and clear,
I have some wine and glasses,
Here is to us, dear, cheers!
I wish to ask you something,
My mind is in a twist,
I love you to the heavens,
Will you accept this ring?
≈≈≈≈≈
I have an early meeting,
Can you run kids to school?
I may be late this evening,
We need to join a carpool.
Let’s call the babysitter,
Go on a date, tonight,
We need to spend alone time,
Sit somewhere and just chat.
≈≈≈≈≈
I need another blanket,
The room is chill again,
The grandkids called this morning,
They’ll visit over the weekend.
Can you please draw the curtains?
The evening shade had set,
Our program’s coming on soon,
Let’s rest and watch in bed.
,שִׂיחָה, וְעוֹד שִׂיחָה
,מִלִּים חַדּוֹת, קֵהוֹת רֶגֶשׁ
,מָחוֹג הַזְּמַן חוֹלֵף לוֹ
.בְּמַעְגָּל סָגוּר
,בְּמַבָּט קְדִימָה
,קַו יוֹצֵא, נִמְתַח
,פּוֹנֶה וּמִתְעַגֵּל לוֹ
.אֶל הָאוֹפֶק לֹא יַגִּיעַ
Conversation, and another,
Sharp words, sans emotion,
The clock hand passes,
In a closed circuit.
In a view forward,
A line is drawn, stretches,
Turns and curves,
Never makes it to the horizon.
Exciting times are here upon us,
Full of promises, advances,
Tech afforded, automation,
Piles of data, mounds of bites.
Worldly thoughts, ideas high-minded,
Profit high and nations build,
War and peace, tectonic clashes,
Men continue to achieve.
From the print press to the wide web,
Words amassed to Mars and back,
Theorem, proof, the flood gate open,
Reason set aside amass.
High degrees and faux science experts,
Loud self-made men spewing “facts”,
Doctors, masters, eight grade dropouts,
Ready manifest at hand.
Earth is flat and here is why so,
Moon land mission? Was a hoax!
State is spying on your person,
Put aluminum hat on!
Ocean deep misinformation,
Science world struggling to respond,
Much like Dutch boy, standing helpless,
Fingers tired in a hole.
Facts aside and reason passé,
Stupid cannot be undone,
Move with caution, study deeper,
Truth made not to argue on.
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.
,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, לַרִיפְיוֹן, וְלַנְּחִישׁוּת
,וְשׁוֹאֵל אֶת עַצְמִי שׁוּב מִתּוֹךְ שֵׁינָה, אִם הַפַּעַם
.זֶה יִסְתַּיֵּים אַחֶרֶת
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.
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.
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.
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 actions,
Dispersed to many,
Who will soon come,
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.
Trees of forest,