Home II

I was raised in a valley

Where the pure water never passed my lips.

Why am I in this hell

A land of never peace.

No rest for the wicked here.

Home

I wonder if I will ever see you again

My heart, my home.

To walk down the lane when the skies have freshly cleared

To watch to sea tickling the horizon

Breathe in your honeysuckle

Where the wild roses grow

And the sweet bees nuzzle

The wise horses tolerate your gaze.

My heart is full of grief for you

My dear and only love.

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A funny thought

Your name is never Life.

You came to me as though in a dream.

You asked about miracles- whether they had all been used up.

I told you, step away from the wall. This is my place. Nobody told you to scream my name here, to throw your salty tears at me.

I’m grieving too, I mourned my people seven days, I warned them eight.

Don’t I too have a right to be alone here, and cry out, misery? Don’t I too have the right to shake my charity cup and threaten the children?

I’m keeping a cool head, but it’s not easy, being Ein Sof and Ein Od at the same time. I wish you would allow me to sleep for one day, and that the physics of reason would prevail.

Then, only then.

Socrates

A sunset-

The beginning of wisdom?

Or a means to an end.

Bring on the dawn, the day, the toil and trouble, boil and bubble.

Know thyself or thine enemies?

Socrates, meet William.

Seeing

I spoke my truth in this lifetime

Despite it not being in my best interests.

The first rains bring me back.

I am in London, looking up into the grey skylight.

There has been no sunlight for nine days.

We are surviving.

Every hour is agony.

Being alive is to be consumed with pain.

The chronic pain takes away my natural tolerance for stories.

Half truths.

I thought it was you, you were the problem.

In fact, it was my mother

Who brought me into this drama

Who let it play out

Like this.

Gently dangerous.

Did you know that every egg inside your ovaries was generated

When you were still inside her?

That kind of expectant stillness.

Four months, they say.

Sixteen weeks.

She was already in the business of grandchildren.

Now it’s your problem.

You get to decide

Whether you are in, or out.

Born alone, die alone

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World II

I have always been my own worst enemy-

I have held many interviews, but nobody is as qualified as I for the position.

It takes a world of experience.

World

I gave my heart where I should have withheld

Both myself and my company.

And yet I am none the worse for it

For this path has been my education

A cruel, truthful teacher.

When the ocean makes havdalah

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Goodbye world

If it’s your truth, then why is it so hurtful to other people?