Weekly Cycle

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Creative Writing: Poetry

Procurando Meu Canto

Achei minha voz

Conheci os amigos
Relembrei meus avós.

Procurando meu canto

Senti minha dor
Lavei minha alma
Expirei meu calor.

Procurando meu canto

Construi minhas casas
Reatei as raizes
Soltei minhas asas.

Procurando meu canto

Cantei pra Você
Encontrei, finalmente,
Minha razão de viver.

Bedtime Shemah
I have died
So many times
That when I go
It won't be new
My eyes will close
My mouth ajar
I'll say the words
I know are true:
There is no doubt
There is no I
There's only Truth
There's only You
Then, wrapped in white
I'll wait and see 
The Heavens' first
Light shades of blue
I'll give my thanks
And wash my hands
Shake off the dust
And start anew.

I am the Place

In which you sit
Life, vest,
Oxygen, mask.

I am the belt
Holding you tight
Buckling and

I am the seat
That makes you float
If you hug me
Against your chest.

I am the One
Who comforts you,
Pilot now signaling

It is safe to stand.

Jacob, Israel

I try so hard
In every way
To get Your smile
And get Your say

Perhaps one day
After all that trying
After all that living
After all that dying

My seeds will grow
To become trees
And testify
About that child

And then that man
Who tried so hard
And finally got

What he couldn't see.

Yom Yerushalayim

Chega o dia que cansa
Ser manso, pacato
Sensato palhaço
Chega a hora que explode
A força enforcada
Feroz e selvagem
Com garras, coragem
Jumento tornado
Tigre de fogo e carvão
Reconquista por fim
O próprio coração
Cidade da paz
E temor.


Completely nothing

He couldn't move
His mind a daze
His world confused

Not knowing
If he was coming
Or he was going.

Out of fuel
For quite some time
His body failing
As were his rhymes

He'd sing
His final song
And then he'd go.

Then he remembered
An ancient shepherd
Who worked for love
For seven years, then seven more

They went by slow
But even so
They were like days.

He too felt dead
For quite some time
And yet he knew, he surely knew
That like the dew

He'd be revived.

PS: : "Love is as strong as death" (Song of Songs 8:16)

It Comes as No Surprise

That outside the
Land of giants
Everything again
Feels so small.

If after 9 months
It took me
Almost a decade
To settle,

Is it really a shock
That I'd return
With my head again
In those clouds?

No longer breathing
Its air, bathing
In Its water,

No longer standing
On Its earth, warm
From Its fire.

It's all
To be expected,
Yet painful
All the same.

PS: Israel has four main holy cities:Jerusalem (fire), Hebron (earth), Tiberias (water) and Tsfat (air)

In the Holy Land

The angels I've seen

Have no chubby cheeks,
Fluffy feathers or wings.

They have just direction

To give and care deeply,
Few words, hardly any expression.

Alive at Week's End

Not because
I earn or

But because
I yearn,

Weak finished,
I learn to

Return, and

Some Times

No matter how right
And successful
The operation,

How strong the bond
And bright the light
After the darkness,

The wound remains
And the heart still
Beats a bit broken.

I Don't Have All the Answers

I don't have all the answers
Not even the questions.

All I have is the will
To learn and to change.

And that's all I need.

Allah huAkhbar
G-d is Great
He is All and
People peep
Like mice at bar
And make Him

The Left Leg

Was never meant
To be the head.

I hold my own
But seek balance
In my right twin.

I flex and bend
So not to brake.

Protect my toes,
My heal and soul
With my thick skin.

Come and see

Come and hear,
Smell and touch,
Taste and fear,
Love so much.

Come and sing.

Come and heal,
Smile and try,
Dance and feel,
Laugh and cry.

Whatever you do,
Make sure to come.
Uman Uman Rosh Hashana...

In the Morning

In the morning
I wrap myself
With explosives
Close to my heart,
Arms, and head.

I search for
The biggest crowd
Of Jewish men,
Covering my face
With a cloak.

I anxiously wait
To sacrifice
Body and Soul,
Lighting a Fire
For Life, and not death.

Surrounded by Distant Family

Sitting in a gymnasium,
Praying for their release
I could not help but think that
We are all kidnapped children.
(Literally, Tinokot sheNishbe'u)

Yet, we too are not alone.
We are One, and we have each other.
We've been united and must remain so,
For that is the ultimate goal, the only way out,
The source of our redemption.

Return us to You,
And we will return, together.
Bring back your boys.

After a Long Day

I opened up my computer and
A pop-up window appeared.
It had a heart and read in pink:
"Does Skype power your passion?"

They do not know that Mine is
Vast and total.

If only there was a Skype for it,
Something to keep me connected.
If only I could see and still
Listen, talk, and live...

Then perhaps I would not feel
The emptiness.

The crater that remains from the blast
That formed me into a vessel,
Rendering other food tasteless and
The air outside of it impure.

Here, there is no way to fill
The void, I know.

There are but moments of brightness,
The promise of reward, and
The gratification in knowing that
I do not want or need it.

The only true reward is to serve
The One I love.

Everything else is just a
Flashing light on a screen
On which I must click,
and hit "OK."

The Heart of the Matter

When the soul first enters the body,
 It asks: "Why do I need all this opposition?
I already had a place to live,
So why do I have to conquer this one?"

With time, it realizes that to be truly whole
And holy requires both body and soul,
East and West, the Jerusalem above
And the Jerusalem below.

Some points

At some points,
I worried about
Sounding smart.
At some others,
Sounding funny.
Buy these days,
All I care about
Is sounding true,
Like my Self.

From my posts

Some people
May think
I'm crazy.

Of course,
I am.
Isn't everyone
Who is in love?


There's a lady
Who for years
I would see

On the street
Taking walks
Dragging half
Of her body.

She's here now
And I cannot
Believe my eyes.

Her back straight,
No longer angled
Forty-five degrees,

She is running.

Tag Me In Your Prayers

Tag me 
In your 

Like what's


To More
Than just

And you
Will come
Face to

With the
Fact that
I am

And our
Life is
In a

Of the
Kind One
Has to


Some Times

No matter how right
And successful
The operation,

How strong the bond
And bright the light
After the darkness,

The wound remains
And the heart still
Beats a bit broken.

Just Paths

The truth is that
There's no quick fix
Just simply paths
Of the Tzadik.

No lasting signs,
Bright finish lines,
Cures from coffee,
Much less from wine.

There's no plateau,
Or staying still,
You either grow
Or you will wilt.

Just step by step,
That's all there is.
A few more up
Until you slip.

Then comes the trick,
To just restart,
Get up and go
Until you find

That brick by brick,
Through sweat and tears
A few mistakes 
And many fears

You've built a home.

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