She thinks what she shouldn’t think she says what she shouldn’t say and when Athena’s curse beckons a Medusa, the woman becomes.
How sweet is the forbidden fruit? How deep is the most unkindest cut? How blinding can be the mirror? How far is too far for her? Over there where glows no lantern she walks, in defiance, beyond all return.
I’m no silhouette that intruded your sleep or an apparition that rustled the leaves Neither an incubus that strangles the meek nor an omen that unleashes the evil streak. I’m nothing, ‘cause I turned into a stone lost in the labyrinth of tresses that hissed not a woman but it's a Medusa that I kissed.
You knew you believed the letters and the words they, indeed, piled up like Alps in the clouds. The shelves of your study the lanes of your memory. You thought, on that day, the faith would rise up like a Griffin out of the Ebony woods but it’s just that you didn’t know when the last of the dark winds blow it’s all ashes and dust.
You knew you loved that heart and that countenance abounding in a castle raised in the rains on a gloomy cape with a looming hope dreaming by the ramparts of flags of peace and blissful seas and you thought tomorrow would dawn anyway like the kingdom of high out of the frescoes in sky but it’s just that you didn’t know when the last of the dark winds blow it’s all ashes and dust.
Rising again to the shining skies a smile within, but contempt outside got an avalanche of words that won’t be spoken and a houseful of feelings to carefully hide. This tongue isn’t enough to unveil the heart for words deceive our ways into a winless war only these eyes open the doors of burning fire but baby, we are so close yet so far.
We rush through these alleys in search of something crossing all the miles with this rock on our head we put up a face that speaks words in millions but know not what it is until it’s dead. Truth embraces these four walls of blinding darkness for daylight reveals the painful and bleeding scar hearts long for each other, but hands don’t reach ‘cause baby, we are so close yet so far.
We ‘re making this journey beyond the end of road places we passed have turned desolate and cursed can’t read these lines of the book of our life for vain is everything that we saw and touched. Put on new clothing, but this heart’s always the same it’s time that moves on while we stay where we are. The road we take to go is the road we need to return but baby, we are so close yet so far.
My face is melting like a candle of shame bones are burning in this tormenting flame fences are circling the thoughts that stream yet, blood in my veins is calling your name. Voices and dances are filling shrill silence lone red rose and I wait while fortunes spar for it’s Valentine’s Day, if you still remember but baby, we are so close yet so far.
The idea of love, so alluring through - an hour and a half on screen fictitious paperback leaves lines of bard’s dreams and top of the charts surging down the air streams.
The doors fling open for that special someone to walk in. The season of love, when it arrives attesting indoctrinations, it connives. Anxiety of suit and gown see nuptials through leaving two lives under that one wretched roof. Ego’s esteem shrinks space contradictions bursting in face moments dressed in incompatible fads pound the whimsy mirage to rags. Matinee idols turn zombies, best sellers - a preposterous trash chartbusters fall mum under stark reality’s lash. Domestic wrangles, court room tangles explicate the futility, though late.
Revulsion wrenched heart limps back to work and on a misty evening of wreck when that whisper fondles the ear that aromatic dinner in candle glare lets the heart’s doors creak to trudge once more through the bluff’s creek.
Not once down this tedious rove could grasp this enigma riddled entity named love.
I’ve come a long way from home over the mountains of wailing blood and bone. I found my love in the distant fields of snow and lost it in the summer of an avenging sun. I’m a traveler and have been to many a land and always held this good book in my hand Sometimes, I ask myself, “Why on earth am I here?” maybe I got my own cross to bear. I’m a traveler, I know, I can’t help or maybe I’ve been running from myself.
I’ve seen the naked skin on the ribcage of starvation a hundred outstretched hands for one piece of bread peeped into the eyes that got nowhere to look walked through the rotting squalor of paper and mud heard the voices of guile and whispers of deception lying buried in sickness in the forsaken isles of flood. Sometimes, I ask myself, “Why on earth am I here?” maybe I got my own cross to bear. I’m a traveler, I know, I can’t help or maybe I’ve been running from myself.
Tonight, I’m alone on the streets of this strange town ain’t got no friend to meet, and no place where I belong the whistles of police cars, the rumbles of subway trains and the chuckles of passing girls are the only familiar things. My back’s to the wall and I blow air into the cups of my hands it’s cold, baby, maybe you look to hide me in your wings. I don’t know where I’m heading, but I know where I’m from girl, I’m beat and wanna last till I go home I don’t ask for a fire and there’s nothing that I desire this one night, let me stay in a corner of your eye at daybreak, I go trek a myriad miles and yet find my home too far away. Baby, sometimes, I ask myself, “Why on earth am I here?” maybe I got my own cross to bear. I’m a traveler, I know, I can’t help or maybe I’ve been running from myself.
If purple graces a butterfly’s wings yellow embraces the other unique nectar and fragrance manifest in each blooming flower some set apart by stipples some stand out in color. Every sparrow chirps in its distinct fashion varying flecks on each Kingfisher’s bosom. Every creeping python crawling lizard, humming bee, aquatic beauties swimming the sea each kind is different from its own that’s the splendor of life of being alive under the sky of rainbow and sun.
So was man before books bent his back with a hunch and his tender feet were enchained to classroom’s bench.
Reading unending rows of alphabet fonts of print on paper bellowed out repetitions that taught the same charter - think alike, know alike and be alike.
I was barked at with canes whipped on the buttocks knelt on the burning ground of pains sat on thin air with my back to the wall and shamed for being different from all. The word is “discipline,” but they instilled fear claiming to groom, they robbed every year manufacturing puppets faceless and formless a machination for machine tools of a dumb army of robots.
My soul was arrested mind was cremated and heart was broken, I didn’t know. Like a flying bird, a sheep in the grazing herd, a swaying lily in the valley, and a Herring in shoals of merry I discovered not myself. I know histories of distant lands and mysteries of cosmos mathematics on both hands and lingua franca of hosts have a computer on palm but know not who I am!
A new tycoon ascended the tabloid pit confiscated accolades profusely writ he unlocked his product, a disguised beast invented new needs for the susceptible meek patrons of impositions, his slaves to be entangled in a jumble closely knit.
Caged universal tongue is unshackled resurrecting the dead tower of Babel Then, confounded tongues freed many on the unfound common ground under a diverse canopy. Now, sow old seeds again till farthest reach owners of one market can easily reap.
Dollars and Euro at hand for borrow faces, races, human spaces lined up in sky scrapper’s shadow. All rise to the new empire east city, west city and ethnicity no bar welcome benevolent multi-national Czar with affluent glitzy palaces of power ride on the impoverished third world horse by the closed shop of the universal slave dragging his stinky hearse.
Never trust an old friend said my old man strolling these cordial shores of golden palms my tender feet followed him adoring the vacillating colors of sky kissing the boisterous sea this is where thunderous peace is.
Sea is a work place an unfathomable treasure trove our boats feed on the village is its child raised in the cradle of sands, rocked by the southern winds
The sea was also an old friend a vengeful friend is worse than a furious foe my old man would say you won’t see him come and go
Carols are ringing at the crack of dawn festive embellishments are swaying in cold winter breeze seabirds are vying for the virgin sky in haste and the sea leapt with outstretched extremities devouring its own child. On that day, the friend became an enemy the giant called tsunami took away with him everything the sea has given me.
Hey brother, this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone
This breeze’s stroking my face much like her tresses she was my classmate and now my daughter’s mother I didn’t look into her eyes when I said so long and God bless but I promised a better home that no storms could wither. And for them, it’s all gonna change forever tonight I’m going back home after a long wait I have bags full of caring heart taking ’em home never to depart. Hey, young man in the next seat Do you have a mother or sister waiting for you to greet? Well, this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.
You have that look on your face maybe your heart’s pounding hard your shirt is wet with sweat something’s beneath, you’re trying to guard! This journey goes on, if we desire or together we walk the lake of fire. Back at home, they’ll hold us breathing in their arms or eaten by locust. Yes, this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.
You chose to be here I’m here by sheer chance together we’re destined to journey across this promised expanse. We passed through these gates and shared these empty seats as darkness surrounds, we look at each other this ticket in our hands can end it here or move us further as this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.
On my way to Tel Aviv in tomorrow I still believe someday, this world we’d leave meanwhile, there are dreams to weave. As sun goes down on this Friday home awaits us in candle’s ray there is peace and rest on the other side in each others' blood we do abide and take this ride into the even tide. Hey brother, this bus takes us home all it takes is crossing this bridge of stone.
The unsuspecting sun rose, as usual, in the mute skies for one last journey over a ground prepared to be betrayed faithful orchards grown to be forsaken brick walls of mannequin lives built for desolation.
Dry and dead blood is crying from deep sludge shadows from the past standby and watch for the blithely hops of the blissful kids roars of engines rolling languid time’s wheels congregation’s ardent recitations and toasts of wine here - will not be heard again.
The obdurate synagogue door has fallen human hands knit with veins hold on to the dying bond like worms curling together, defying the whirling storm. Rows of eyes stare in and swim the piercing odious waters gushing in to flush out the remains of forgotten warriors. Yet, slippery orange hands wave the fluttering wet blue star on a crumbling roof of rumbling dreams.
Sun is being evicted from his sky.
The inevitable feet of the takers arrive.
One last blast of Shofar and a tearful shalom soon, I'll be far away from home - Kfar Darom.
Fortune is celebrated and later forgotten, but misfortune stays buried deep inside like a wound that would never heal. Life would go on; however, misfortune overtakes the fortune for a few. The winner takes it all, so I write about the loser, the expendable, that small fry, that little guy, that fall guy......that underdog! These could be a few poetic narratives of the unfortunate or this could just be a routine recitation of life’s most common accusations against that which couldn’t be.... and that which wouldn’t be. Please forgive my doodles.
