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There Are Holes In The Sky

There are holes in the sky
Where the rain gets in
But there ever so small
That's why the rain is thin.

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There Are Pains Beyond The Healing Of Poetry

THERE ARE PAINS BEYOND THE HEALING OF POETRY

There are pains beyond the healing of poetry-
Life’s wounds can be deeper than any helping song or thought-
A life can fail
And go into the ground
With all its cries unanswered.
Who are we to know why we suffer so sometimes?
Perhaps we deserve it,
Perhaps we do not.

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There Are Times/ When The Poetry Of The Poem

THERE ARE TIMES/ WHEN THE POETRY OF THE POEM

There are times
When the poetry of the poem,
And the poetry of the poet
Are poetry.

But there are too times
When the poetry of the poet
And the poetry of the poem
Are not poetry.

There are times
When all the poetry,
And all the poets in the universe
Do not make the world a poem.

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There are times that the walls

There are times that the walls
of the bedroom wants to fold in,
when sheer loneliness becomes too much
and the power of love focuses on loss
as if nothingness wants to fill the whole body
and we are stripped naked by it,
when it concentrates on love that still survives,
lingers while death have robbed us
and we yearn for something new,
for someone unknown.

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To-- Oh! there are spirits of the air

Dakrysi Dioisw Potmon Apotmon

Oh! there are spirits of the air,
And genii of the evening breeze,
And gentle ghosts, with eyes as fair
As star-beams among twilight trees:—
Such lovely ministers to meet
Oft hast thou turned from men thy lonely feet.

With mountain winds, and babbling springs,
And moonlight seas, that are the voice
Of these inexplicable things,
Thou didst hold commune, and rejoice
When they did answer thee; but they
Cast, like a worthless boon, thy love away.

And thou hast sought in starry eyes
Beams that were never meant for thine,
Another’s wealth:—tame sacrifice
To a fond faith! still dost thou pine?
Still dost thou hope that greeting hands,
Voice, looks, or lips, may answer thy demands?

Ah! wherefore didst thou build thine hope
On the false earth’s inconstancy?
Did thine own mind afford no scope
Of love, or moving thoughts to thee?
That natural scenes or human smiles
Could steal the power to wind thee in their wiles?

Yes, all the faithless smiles are fled
Whose falsehood left thee broken-hearted;
The glory of the moon is dead;
Night’s ghosts and dreams have now departed;
Thine own soul still is true to thee,
But changed to a foul fiend through misery.

This fiend, whose ghastly presence ever
Beside thee like thy shadow hangs,
Dream not to chase;—the mad endeavour
Would scourge thee to severer pangs.
Be as thou art. Thy settled fate,
Dark as it is, all change would aggravate.

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Digging Holes In The Sand Blues

The kids are digging holes
In the sand with their plastic shovel
In order to build a sandcastle
At the beach
During their summer vacation

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When You Are Running Through The Streets

When you are running through the streets
There is no hope for you
You have got to pick yourself up
Isn't there something better for you to do
There is nothing but trouble
If you continue to stay within the vicinity
If you do not make this move now
No one will show you any sympathy

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The Poems Are Far Away/The Thoughts Far Away Also

The poems are far away
The thoughts far away also
The heat is too great
And the discomfort difficult
Waiting is not easy
Even if it is only for a few hours-

Soon the birthday guests will assemble
They will sing to me and say kind things about me
I will try in my way to thank and bless them-

It has been a long road
Those who put me on it
Are no longer here-

Now there are for me only the younger generations
Thank G-d for them-

May G-d protect them and enable them to flourish in the years to come
And may I go on for a while also.

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William Shakespeare

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130)

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

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William Shakespeare

Sonnet 130: My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks,
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

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These Nuts Are All Over The Place

Snipping those cackles that crack,
To chatter in 'meows' like a pack of cats...
Sounding too much like a stepping on dried leaves,
On an Autumn stroll through a quiet park.

And there they are...
As if granted a clearing by Mother Nature!
Pecking in a group like a bunch of hens.
Only to silence themselves,
When the appearance of a stranger interrupts...
To repeat to get their attention:
'Good morning, ladies! '

~You do not have to shout, young man.
A simple hello will do.~

God...
As you can see,
Our favorite place to meet...
Has attracted other creatures of your creation.
I'll do my very best...
With patience,
To find another spot!

~And,
No need to stare at us.
We are having A and B conversations.
Continue to C your way through the park.~

God loves us all!
Don't You, Father?

~He talks to trees.
Leave him alone, Esther.
These nuts are all over the place.~

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Nuts' Are All Over The Place!

I'm not going to tolerate anyone's nonsense!
#1...Because I don't have to!
#2...Because I choose not to!
And...
#3...BS and I are not related at all.
So I do not have to pretend there is a bond!

Some folks put up with others just to get along.
'Why can't we 'all' get along? '
Why?
'Cuz one bed will not accomodate all of us,
That's why!

Some like to pout and roll their eyes.
Gossip and backstab.
And they do it to family members AND close friends!
Can you imagine?
And where I live,
Close friends and family members kill themselves...
Over a slice of toast!
Or something else LESS 'urgent'!
Folks are 'nuts'.
Even the squirrels will have nothing to do with them.
And when squirrels are seen turning their backs away...
An investigation is needed.
With an immediate assignment given!
But...
To 'who'?
'Nuts' are all over the place!

I'm not going to tolerate anyone's nonsense!
#1...Because I don't have to!
#2...Because I choose not to!
And...
#3...BS and I are not related at all.
So I do not have to pretend there is a bond!

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Pick Up The Bones

Collecting pieces of my family
In an old pillow case
This one has a skull

But it don't have a face
These look like the arms of father so strong
And the ring on this finger

Means my Grandma is gone
Here's some legs in a cloud
Where my sister once played

Here's some mud made of blood
And these teeth are decayed
The ear of my brother

The hand of a friend
And I just can't
Put them back together again

Pick up the bones
And set them on fire
Follow the smoke going higher and higher
Pick up the bones
And wish them goodnight
Pray them a prayer and turn out the light

There are stains on the floor
Where kitchen once stood
There are ribs on the fire place
Mixed with the wood

There are forces in the air
Ghosts in the wind
Some bullets in the back
And some scars on the skin

There were demons with guns
Who marched through this place
Killing everything that breathed
They're an inhuman race

There are holes in the walls
Bloody hair on the bricks
And the smell of this hell
Is making me sick

Pick up the bones
And set them on fire
Follow the smoke going higher and higher
Pick up the bones
And wish them goodnight
Pray them a prayer and turn out the light

Pick up the bones
And set them on fire
Follow the scope going higher and higher
Pick up the bones
And wish them goodnight
Pray them a prayer and turn out the light

Now maybe someday
The suns gonna shine
Flowers will bloom
And all will be fine

But nothing will grow
On this burnt cursive ground
Cuz the breathe of the death
Is the only sound

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Reals Unknown: Still they are known to the heart of man

This same land that knew the footsteps of Arthur and Merlin
Shall once again know an age of chivalry
When the misunderstandings of our race shall fall into the shadow
Hiding and we shall stride as one together.

Yet many ages will pass before we sit each upon the grass
Laughing at the wars of the long lost times and mourning the
Souls of our ancestors who could not understand one another,

In this far distant future age men shall walk the earth
As the ancient masters of the past, Hermes shall be reborn
Just as the Christ child may be born again in a thousand incarnations
Dionysus shall ride the forest trail and men shall once more
Know the Gods as there fathers and knows children as the seed of the gods.

Aphrodite is worshipped through the ritual of vanity,
Hermes is worshipped through the studious and those wide known travelers,
Zeus is worshipped through the power of promise
And through respect and fear of the skies.
Poseidon is worshipped by those who still consider the sea as sacred in its power
Just as Artemis and Apollo are known through the masculinity
Of our solar power to the cycles of the blood moon waning.

Still skyclad Bacchants cheer with he roar of their gods in there tones,
Still we see ecstasy fuel the excitement of youth, just as wine
And alcohol are loved by most.

This present age knows only the loss of the names of those we worship
In our ritual yet soon there shall be men who foretell the tales of old beyond
The walls of lecture halls, children shall know the joy of Homers verse above
All they know of Biblical verse, for although holy and truly deep in truth,
The tradition of religion and its institutions hath been corrupted by the vanity
And evil of man, it would be safe to say that if ever the devil walked the earth
He did so in the name of undisputable doctrine, for this evil there is no measure,
In seeking your treasure as truth shall you find all the pleasures
Of the world available to your understanding.

Take in the land and embrace the day,
Understand the words you say and so
Shall you understand the way to the love
Of your opposite just as you may understand
The love of the Gods in every form.

Still Hades is feared as lord of the unknown realm,
Still bright eyed Athena startles with her insight of the most beautiful wisdom incarnate,
Artemis lady of the wild, child of Zeus and twin of Dionysus, fires silver arrows throughout the night whilst Hephaestus, hammer of the gods is sweltering within his forge.

Ares is worshipped most of all the men of this earth,
His power is strong yet the honor of Ares is lost to the cold slaughter of many.
Hestia is still worshiped by guarded fires and virgin purity,
Still married woman may be adorned with courage by Hera
To strive against there husbands tyranny. Pan may be found
In the countryside’s of Europe far from his native land, his beloved Arcady,
Dancing in circles with nymphs, chasing them and constantly rejected,
Yet never neglecting the love he has for all the creatures wild.

Still they are worshipped and still they are strong
Awaiting you to call upon them in all honour.
Deny not the feminine influence running within
The blood of sympathetic wisdom untold.

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If The Mahogany Leaves Are Hearts Then The Rivers Flood

If all the mahogany leaves
In Tabon mountain
Are hearts
Like the way I bleed
When you left
The rivers below
Will surely flood.

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These Are Not Yet the Days of Summer

Warm.
Sticky.
And thick...
With humidity!
And you?
Do you have a cool box,
To go into?
How are you enjoying your heat?
And these are not yet,
The days of Summer!

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We are interested in the people

Gossip is not all false.
It contains some truth.
To gossip and to hear gossip,
Each one of us is interested,
A sign that we are interested
In the people around us.
19.06.2008

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Are There Ever Too Many Poems?

ARE THERE EVER TOO MANY POEMS?

Are there ever too many poems?
Will the world fall down
If there is one small poem more?

Here we are, my poem and I-
Sitting on a park bench
In the morning sun
In Jerusalem.
What could be holier
For an old Yid
than that?

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We Are Drawn Towards The West

we are drawn towards the west
we are from the east

we have many reasons to stay in the west
we have more of the many reasons to go back to our
point of origin

the east, yet for the time being, we cannot.
the east will always be an enticing art form
inside our hungry stomachs

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And These--Are These Indeed The Rnd

And these-are these indeed the end,
This grinning skull, this heavy loam?
Do all green ways whereby we wend
Lead but to yon ignoble home?

Ah well! Thine eyes invite to bliss;
Thy lips are hives of summer still.
I ask not other worlds while this
Proffers me all the sweets I will.

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My Poems Are Poems Of The Light Of The Day

MY POEMS ARE POEMS OF THE LIGHT OF THE DAY

My poems are poems of the light of the day
The poems of the night are for others-
When the night comes
I hide and wait in silence
Until the day comes-
My poems are poems of the light of the day
And I dare not bring the poems of the night within them.

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