Coarse Grained Histories

ancient iceni warrior, with a feminine observation
stepping between stones along the path into awareness
from a western kingdom of keltoi, a hidden people
evolving from beyond the sambatyon, shabbat flying
with wings of mysterious tradition, keeping justice
quantum operating like a shadow grain through history
a druid measure of essential intercalating vapors
pooling sparks of an illuminating night, loyally treasured
rhythmically pulsing, running and returning strategically
with notes of rebellion inscribing freedom cutting clear
perturbations witnessing through the field of shalshelet
like signals thrown up, from holy ground descending
arising with complex yet simple anomalies of language
conversations matrixing within one soul traversing time
uniquely bifurcating into reality fueled from the heart
unfolding outcomes over mountains, entwining worlds
stringing through the path collapsing, gathering strength
a cold fusion of alternative discretions without calculation
decohering the lifeforce, immersed in the source

ancient yehudi warrior, with a feminine expression
stepping with stones upon the path into awareness
from an eastern kingdom of kohanim, a stiff-necked people
evolving within the heart of the universe, shabbat flying
with wings of mysterious tradition, keeping justice
quantum operating like a bright grain through history
a jewish measure of brilliant intercalating vapors
pooling sparks of an illuminating day, loyally treasured
rhythmically pulsing, running and returning strategically
with notes of rebellion inscribing freedom cutting crafty
perturbations witnessing through the field of shalshelet
like signals thrown down, from holy ground ascending
descending with complex yet simple anomalies of language
conversations matrixing within one soul traversing time
uniquely synthesizing into reality fueled from the heart
unfolding outcomes over seas, entwining worlds
stringing through the path iterating, gathering strength
a cold fusion of alternative discretions reckoning
decohering the lifeforce, in dialog with the divine

Presence By The River

walking thinking sitting contemplating
thoughtless restless meandering crazy light
I am
looking down upon the waters
flowing through life, quiet solitude covering
like warm mud between my toes, humming busy bees nearby
once a sad river breeze, my hair flowing in tune
thoughtless restless meandering crazy light
I am
smelling sound soft in the air
presence all around
among the reeds and grasses and whispering leaves
shadows of time playing in the mind
conceived, coming down
quiet river breathing, destiny shining, emptiness bursting full
curious creature is the mysterious living creature
I am
full of folly, wonderful folly
like warm mud between my toes, tapping a chaotic rhythm
because, just because I can
thoughtless restless meandering crazy light
because, just because
I am

Dawn In The Forest

remember, I remember
when living dreams lived, like primeval mists rising
unbeckoned, natural, songs on the wind
the world, beautiful, once, once when
when you, everthere in my shadow
in the whisper breathing, with my ear
there, there were you
wherever, wherever my foot found to walk
there, there were you
once, once
I remember
there were you, with me, behind me, beside me
I in your shadow, walking, talking soft as a thought
gentle truth, dawning life, laughing notes of delight
wonder, the wonders of evernew, and there
there were you, soothing like dawn
a melody playing in the forest of Eden
there were you
where, tell me where, where
are you

Echo

this is my life, what I am
left desolate, against the wall, pressed back
hard into life
out toward you returning, you turned away
leaving me here, with an oath unkept hanging in the air
to become broken, twisted beyond reason with pain
this is my life, hated, deserted, crushed in the world made
why do you hate me, why
saying you
you would always be here, here by my side though I was blind
but now I speak with tears into the night
and there is no one, no one who hears
the echo of your words I try to trace a path with my own
and find my way home, but there is no one, no one
who hears
and I can't understand why you hate me
and in my heart, I try to find something, something
but there is no one, no one
who hears

For Sake Of Johnnies Of The War

masters of terror, of terror do plan
listen well to my rhyme
and know within your own breast
the sorrows you bring with time

masters of terror, of terror endorse
see the tales take on life
of pillaging, plunder, murder and gain
and proclaim once more, "for right!"

fathers send sons, mothers blind
who knows truly why
blood is shed of ones so dear
given reasons that are but lies

see the mother, see the father
see the legless man
see the broken loves and lives
all torn by your own hand

masters of terror, of terror do plan
you dare to employ
your own dear child born for tomorrows
to fight and die for glory

masters of terror, of terror do plan
listen and do in time
see the sorrows searing your soul
upon which you will one day dine

**********

poem written at 14 years old

End Of Days

the page
turns the blade
pivoting over and over
a single pointless point
ice dancing with the catatonic living death
terrible, terrible, terrible
terribly bare of breath, the homeless vapors
of some fleshless oblivion
filling an endless silence of black fire
spewing ashes of questions that exist no more
cut off, soundless, voiceless
without will, without reason, hovering there
as placeless corpses smile with wicked delight
embracing the night
cut from the light

falling, falling, falling, falling

damn it! damn it!
I'm still here
stop catching me!
can't you see I don't care?

Eishet Chayil

smashing dreams to dust
lost to life, like blood down the drain
ashes of unending moments cast in many forms
shadows upon the wind everblowing
into the face of the strange woman-child alone
exploited, rejected, abandoned, left to die
time after time, form after form
yet living to tell it, the neverending story of abuse
where eternal cruelty collapses trust
left like trash upon the heap
never again reverberating hollowly
in the valley of reality

Livyatan

woman
with nothing, only pain
thrown down through time
a shattering prism through ages and worlds
torn, battered, beaten and abused
curled in the corner, step away, stand back
horror flies with the ark within the skies
of desolation and ice

made with years of tears
a single prayer rises
unchained

Lamp Of Darkness

a lamp
burns brilliantly
a black candle
in the night

gathering
scattered broken sobs

Fear

deep deep complete
creature of the night eternal
a touch divine, a bit insane, off the edge
plunging into a cutting clarity
relentless, wild
stark and undistorted, without echo, raw tradition
a serpent song, a scorpion tale
thirsting inside out, like a finger of the endless
casting kisses
from the heart of the dark

Devil Tzadi

homeless and hiding, sleeping cold
each so alone
like two forbidden seeds in winter snows, chilled deep
deep to the sacred bone
running on black vapors sleeping behind one pivoting mind
haunting dark and dreamy shattered places
seeking refuge, a warm sheltering empty space
resting against the other side piled high
sharing a wheeled wall
accelerating over a terrible ice inhabiting cornered edges
in the heart melting, shadowy sounds with stealth perturbing
the night like sparks tickling the ear with secret signs
whispering of the approach stirring up the line
a craftwork of design, procedures of intention
by a clever devil driven
clearly crazy, out of our mind
and bewitching

Wrath

fierce
without surrender, without capitulation
without indifference
stark, relentless
the eruption, a proclamation
a raging lamentation
the silence, an answering observation
with purpose
intelligible dark agonies
injustice, injustice
mysterious instrument, wrath
who can truly know it

Dance of Outliers

asymmetries oscillating iterating disequilibrium
rushing in circuits of fluctuation imperfectly, perfect!
exotic attractors embedding the spinning critical magnetism
stretching out and considering, yet thoughtbare
projecting and collapsing, gathering with distance, yet near
trying and trying in motionless motion
extending apprehension, passing over, passing under, all around
tying knots of charged connection binding quanta of stops
concentrating conjunctions, strengthening two by two, yes and no
drawing out distinctions of uniqueness, outliers in some quantum time
establishing eccentricities, coagulating singularities
against the rhythm, making discretions
wavelets of indeterminate interval, itty bytes
contracting, constructing, expanding the matrix of translation
reproducing intensity superposing virtual phases of doing ... what
stringing a river of elucidating brilliance responding
to the essential siren current of the one opposite reflection
intercalating delights, perturbing stones of memory
driving the tug dancing between ignorance and knowing
exchanging a mystery, mysterious mysterious, inside out
curling across fields, and between, from some side
end against end, propagating the dynamic
wrestling the source toward convergence
in the matter

Mouth Of Edges

edging edges
blowing an ever cleaving melody
flying with the night
one heart, one mind, returning together
lights of chaos, one thread of many corners stringing
as reverberating pearls tumble from the shabbat river
splitting open time, delight playing peacefully
a harmony of singularities from the endless sea
entwining grains of history, flowing with the flame eternal
cutting clarity into focus with complexity, considering
destiny between simple moments pivoting
thought bare and bursting full
bright and beautiful field of wonders running through it
born fully aware, like a gentle spring wind
brilliant this day when, joining times
my whole world sings again
splendors completing remembering words
unfolding the song shalom
established truly in it

Goddess Hears - My Othala Gadlr

before, when nothing was spoken
yet traveling together, darkness and light
primeval, dreamwalking, on the way
among us, then when we stopped for the night
one night, finding rest together in some cave of the land
I watching you, with sticks in your hand
tapping and banging the rock all around
curious creature, curious creature ...
gazing, watching, wondering about you
and this doing that you do
every action simply, silently speaking
in my ear, beautiful colors of chaos
telling me all about you
and before I knew it, I knew it
from the back of my tongue,
erupting ancient ancient sounds
the first of my story flew through, saying!
what are you trying to do?!
are you trying to tell me your story too ...
and still, from before to the cave and even now
listen, my friend ... it's raining, it's pouring
our story outside

Recognition - Ha'Carah

driven, relentless, unconditional
one singleminded ambition
with tireless compulsion
some conjunctive perception ever in flux
yet ever unchanging
and, simply more
trying to do the matter, gathering into will
generating intelligence, expressing the power
then and there, here and now
particularly now
to do it, to find that
hearing in my heart, one reverberating cry
broken and alone
unique, pulling toward completion unlike any other
capturing awareness, a gripping recognition, pervasive
one unextinguished inclination, one eternal promise
present like no other
quietly, softly, rushing all barriers
one silent siren call
penetrating the night, astonishingly clear
the very breath of life
you are
bright and brilliant in my eyes
in that bygone yesterday, today, and to beyond a thousand years

Story Of A Line

a thin line writhed with reverberation, yet straight, charcoal unfolding its story
so long ago, in the beginning it told, letters unknown
a doodle I presumed, but truly I knew, even then
like a sofer, fit to tell the story, I wrote, a scroll of that becoming known
a journey of edges with pages upon pages, with holes ripped as I worked
diligently, fingers gripping and telling, the line falling through
because, just because, it was true to do
another page and again, another page added to the story
the only word a line, the whole story of a line
jagged, pressed hard, the point broke, shattering the tip of the tool
charged to tell the story, the whole story of a line, grey-black
reddish crayons adding to some places with the other hand, colors telling truth
sometimes it wound around lightly, in inner places wandering
in one and more, corners and other spaces, fallen fallen over the edge
lifted, drifted, hovering over and hiding under the page of writing, the tool
in my hand, time for decision - was it the end? time to stop with this doodle?
the tool paused, lifted and set down upon the paper, another page
time after time, and always faithful to the truth
to the the story of a line, the line as I saw it, from somewhere beyond yet within
the boundaries, beyond the boundaries to the end, coming in
from beyond the limit of my mind so many pages, one after another
not counting, I wrote and cried, reeling and feeling the pain in the story
of this line lonely and wandering, jagged and broken, so hurt, so alone
I had to end the story, the story of this line of letters unknown
collecting in holes torn through pages upon pages of paper
the line to the last page came, the last page I would tell, broken and shattered
forsaken and left to die, the line fell, like a teardrop from my eye
simply, into peace ...

**********

story originally written as a little girl with a line before I could read and write

Night Rites

night rites
embracing a mystery, unfolding
completely moonstruck
like a key lost and found in the lucidity
unlocked among shadows driven
within the deep deep disparity
of one man's love
and one woman's dream
rescued into reality
darkly brilliant, simply complex, dancing
between resistance and surrender

Sticks And Stones

ever on the run, as danger ever loomed
like a giant in the heart, a goliath in pursuit, fear flew
without escaping
the great fire of exile as it blew, clear through
evaporating every illusion
not one remained, when truth stood
face to face above the wood
there simply and complete, the eternal spark communicating
its case, unrestrained yet poor of words,
expressed fully true
and wholly understood
from there and here sent out, sentenced to life somewhere
in the world

Shamir - diVisions Of The Night

first rhythms ever plunge, eternal hosts driven into life
drawing through a field of topographic brilliance
where judgment lovingly flows, churning out whole stones
resting against asymmetries trying, like diamonds in chaos
proto-perception foams, over annihilating operations
and from it, dark bursts of lucidity finely entwine
coarse grains of almost something, almost yet sufficient
the silent rush of yet nothing slides, wildly as percolating pivots
diligently thread through it, casting clarity
upon myriads, hard pauses startle into vision
projecting arrays without mass, strings of confluency
impressing discovery, a shadowy tail-end lingers
between depths of opposite observation
iterating embraces of many meanings like quasi-quanta
gathering functions about the head and, and
spinning spectra, pushing forward, yearning toward home
not knowing, yet only knowing
as some featureless reach edging edges stretches out
the magnetic sweet dance
where divisions collapse like crystal caves
softly sprinkling the belly of the night divine
with bytes of thoughtbare kisses
extending the glorious field of apprehension

Horned Mystery Script

... eh!
itty bitty yet sufficient, only the almost that curiously still can
mitzvah to mitzvah, slow dancing with the night
element to element, heart in heart, soul through soul
weaving in witness, eternal testimony
royal signs telling times like descendents
of divine pleasure, of cleaving passion, molding sparks holy
purely, humbly into some sweet harmony
abundantly overflowing into a reality
caught by vessels coarse grained and returning
with every single one in them stringing unique keys to a treasure
like love letters falling freely from the deep deep techelet
quivering, some innocent reverberation, beautifully, endlessly truly
playing a song upon the gentle laughter
of some ancient ancient horned script

Resurrection Of A Childhood Vision

reverberating
caught from the corner of my eye, many times
space something like static electricity
shadows of shadows of shadows
flitting by so fast, so little, so many, so mashed
into one another
that no
distinction of otherness exists
when seeing
into the light against the darkness
quiet and still, yet somehow flowing bursting full
like a river of no thing really
... focusing, it's all gone ...
and only, when again
without direct intention, tricking the mind with intention
playing hide and peek
looking out sideways, from a corner of the soul
only then, can no thing
be seen
really

Human Tale

neverending streams
of some humble brilliance
expressing a human tale
of the dark divine
even now
here
as wonders run to life
through this tapestry of night casting kisses
of endless light
oh, how the heights envy
the depths of darkness breathing with the glory
of one perfect peace

When Ayins Collide - Quark Gluon Plasma

penetrating thoughtbare, elemental, experiential, evidential
material testimonies distinctly marking the matter
rigorous, rigorous the law inhabiting the arc
cleaving between secret prayers apprehended two by two
virtual plasmas of no thing, reverberating neither dark nor light
a shabbat tzadi field of life radically brilliant
in it, some ancient devotion eternally new
bursting through some remnant of female reflection
like quarks with gluons and pion strings rushing against the wind
where creating and annihilating operators run and return
nowhere, somewhere between being and not, entering and leaving
reiterating iterating, with a wondering observation
transmitting no thing, yet something unfolding
the small reaching cry of one I love in need
caught between the panes, released from the window
into my chamber like handwriting anonymously up the wall
collisions in original script, binding up the void
leaping over quantum time in bloom, perpetually present, a gate
to a land erupting letters, ashrei crossing over

Ignorance

simply
an ever forming question leading through it
winding deep
deep deep deep
height beyond the arms of the universe
spread between one and nothing
thoughtbare, solitary, with truth yoked in the balance
pivotal
constricting yet emerging
collapsing into naught center bound
like a rock, essential, neither light nor dark
establishing the faithful gate of wonder
ignorance
perplexing, bewildering, curious, unknown, unshackled, unshakable
existence
and the thrill of discovering
ignorance

Dancing With The Dark

set up, a woman alone
isolated, targeted, marked
many advanced, one after another
annihilation operators
plotting to destroy, to bring me down
before truth came out, a brilliant revelation
through our story, the story of dybbuks in love
and one after another, at the sixth hekhal
they ignored the stop sign at the swamp door
to eden
and one after another, as chaos tasted lies
their heads were cut off iterating
their own doing, their own manipulation
calculations of lethal intent, to cripple and kill
and bodiless heads in swamp puddles dwelt
the mouths of the heads repeating over and over
like birds chirping some meaningless mantra
of sounds reflecting their beheading moment
in the terrifying place of the female force
dangerously dark, a night divine
where G-d doesn't control the angels

and you began to wonder
what it was all about
and to see truth as it is
and the untruth you were fed about me

and I began to wonder
what it was all about
and to see truth as it is
and the untruth I was fed to be

and the truth of that place is this, this
even trapped between heaven and hell
even as my heart broke
shattering into letters and words like fire
one fateful moment of destiny
betrayed the love in your eyes for me
so open them again and see
you are all I truly need

**********

v'ahavta et adonai elohecha
b'chol l'vavcha uvchol nafsh'cha uvchol m'odecha

Cleft Of The Rock

two tables
set up in the waiting banquet hall of mercy
down the river road beit-chanun
the reaper comes to call, storming the barrier
as some blast of breath curls down the line that flies
to the mystery gathering
unaware, yet directed thought bare to the safe place
outside, set aside
without gazing, in it, without looking back
a patchy shed of structure encloses the mind
on the day of vengence
bones of dead evidence peek inside, breathless
without invitation, without support, emptyhanded
without negotiation, annihilation operators
burst from the vacuum in our defense
reclaiming the devil's devastating due
saying return din to sender
cut from the imagination neither here nor there
in the twilight zone shared between dreamers
snapping asherah trees brittle as thirstless dry twigs
and sag rosh goes up in unstoppable flames
in the town without justice
justice comes acalling

Eye To Eye

blowing through the night dark as light
earthy, yet
renewed, vivid, vital, awake
eye to eye
seeing like a song divine
not far, but very near, so close we can feel it

Last Drop

from a sidefolding
looking, seeing something yet not yet
like a great plain of immaterial fire and space
rolling and unfolding
like billowing waves of timewater and lava
empty of place
sensing
in it, deep deep eternal
trembling in sight of it
balancing, returning the gaze
burrowing
into the folding, where I
I was, looking feeling the mind
expanding greatly
one
mo-ment longer
going
past boundaries trembling
in awe of it
the greatness and power of it
from fear and being no thing
admitting I, I looked until
I could look no
more
the last great drop of awesomeness
in it

Scepter Of Selection

cell to cell, receptor to receptor
a fit communication
an exchanging interaction, immortalized, specific
naturally essential, particularly recognized
the only true selection
universally evident in the matter
with perfect complimentary
positive and negative
working completely together for good
ordering with chaos
a most functional system of defense
in the complex environment
full of simple orchestrations
a developing music into being
playing through generations and times
turning over
the epiphany of history
through her handle on blood biology