Hour of the Silhouettes
Hour of the Silhouettes Caught in your undertow the force of three atomic bombs obliterated my entrails releasing a sorrow to dwarf all sorrows I could no longer deny your name branded in my heart For that is where it happened the seared flesh the cataclysmic knowing the fracturing rock Read more…
Unmourned
unmourned If, as the Rabbis say, each life has its significance, so too its culmination A tear, a murmur of longing, even just a glimpse of a memory, like the flicker of a lamp. Often the trauma is great, the rows of graves too daunting, we choose to forsake remembrance Read more…
Dor Sheni: Second Generation
Dor Sheni דור שני גם אני דור שני, אחותי אומרת, דור שני של חוויה אחרת, אבא שותק, אמא מדברת, הוא כועס, היא מתמרנת. חמישה צעדים מפינה לפינה סופר, חשבונות על אבני שייש וגרניט לוחש, הלוך ושב, הלוך ושב הוא חוזר, חול וצמנט לפונדמנט של קבר בורר. מספר אותיות שמו Read more…
Last Days of Havoc
Broken clocks of weightéd Time Make Hist’ry wait, both hands on hold Severed from the once-divine Piled mem’ries decompose and mould A two-faced, heart-dead dog of Hell Embarks with envy’s enmity To spread its double-devil smell Of NAZI and the C.C.P. It gurgitates the Holocaust To wish G-d’s children, Jews, Read more…
Restoration
Restoration In your eyes, I can see Reflections of your unjust captivity In your voice, I can hear Reverberations of lifeʼs dreams lost to fear In your hand, I can feel Trembling of a heart yearning to heal You did not lose hope Held onto the rope Then the angels Read more…
Spring in the Ghetto
Spring in the Ghetto Spring is coming, the sun is warm, You can hear the rains of the early storm. Life is sprouting forth with green buds, as it must But, I couldn’t see it through my window, full of dust. Through tight Ghetto walls, without any hope Through unspeakable Read more…
Kiste
Towards the sea or mountains, almost blest we carried everything we could but did not dare to name and with our hands, conveyed the mysteries the stark reflections of a place we could not comprehend we thought objects could push us to transcend our images, an ear of corn if Read more…
A Time to Heal
Three in the morning Israeli time And I still can’t get to sleep Something inside me wants to rejoice Another part wants to weep. Three in the morning and a time to dwell On stories my ancestors longed to tell These are my family, as I have been told Departed Read more…
The Seeker
We all grasp reality differently, Our mirroring of reality Is therefore subjectively true. We live in our own World and cannot see the Absolutely true reality; We belie it. True is only he, Who ceaselessly creates Slowly and in toil With a distant aim in sight; Who seeks the truth. Read more…