Poems from my heart
Dear Readers,
Religiously speaking, I believe that there’s something godly within each and every one of us. I believe that Hashem is everywhere.
When I write poems, I feel that it’s my soul which is writing. I don’t try to think of anything. Words just flow onto the piece of paper in front of me. Sometimes, I can just sit on the train and the poems arrive.
Here are some poems I wrote and would like to share with you.
Shana Tova,
Anat
I once had a dream I was a child again. In the dream I was hurting and you were accepting. In the dream we were one but it wasn’t time to shine. “Can you come forward?” you asked, I replied my sorrow and pain; it’s my different way to play a game.
Yesterday my emotions broke. My luck has shuttered. My imperfection was revealed. My temptation took over. I needed love on the spot. I needed breath, crying for the motherly affection, crying because I couldn’t hold it any longer. I needed sleep. I needed to eat. I needed myself, and just myself; at the end of the day, at the end of my way.
You see me jumping from road to road. “It’s obvious she has problems,” you think….don’t underestimate me. To love is not to see, to love is to feel deepness of pain folded in magic, it isn’t beautiful, it’s drastic; it’s unbearable, it’s unconditional, it could end in a smile or on a tearful shrine.
Feeling lost in my own equation. How can I solve the key to unwanted temptation? All I want is to cry. All I want is to rest in my own shrine, just to love me and only me, to be protected from the everlasting sea.
Stars shine above me and they won’t stop to see me. Stars hide my lies. Underneath my misery comes a missionary statement, “move on” they say, robotically, without certainty…”move on” they say, insanely, without gravity; I ask why and they say it’s the only way to fly.
Sick of love and suffering. Marched through days of learning how to breath and eat. Learning how to feel. Changing my whole nature. Transforming myself to mature. Transforming craziness through the sunlight. My saddest days have not been gone. My happiness has shuddered, it has declined to keep showing; I met her at Times Square and she sometimes shows off onstage but runs away as soon as I notice her; this happiness is like a fish, shy and so timid, so precious, I wish I could keep her. I’ll try not to hurt her, I don’t want her to be gone and done, for the days are so sad for me right now.
Since it’s painful to think, I write about it. It will be as if it came from my imagination. I’m hurt. I’m hurt by the 5 train in the morning. By the manager that doesn’t count and the psychic sense I have to fly into the future. I’m hurt by time for betraying good moments and ending at some point. Relief is a lazy tryout to escape the current pain that will hunt you forever. The tears of abuse are infinity in your lifetime. You’re unbearable. You’re undecidable. You’re a product that changes. You’re the fear in my tear. I am hurt by the phonecall, by the phone, and by the 5 train.
Interpretation is a conclusion for some and luck is a game you can’t play. I learned this lesson, then I fall. I walk this road, then I walk it again. This fear I bear. This time I am exposed. My sadness to the unreal. My love, maybe this time I’ll get home safely. There is more to love than just a girl standing in the dark with no clothes on. She has almost succeeded. She is real, but hurt, and you can see it through her energy. Interpretation is a conclusion for some.
I could feel myself succeeding. I could feel myself reaching and grabbing. I could feel myself glooming in the dark not knowing which path to take, not knowing which path to shake. I could feel the ruthless monsters surround me by day and my own depression filling me at night. My own tears are drying as the time is passing. My own stars are sparkling, in the past they were shining. I’m wondering how, not asking why. Here I am growing. Here I am aging. For a second, I’m asking which path I’m taking. Just wondering. Not knowing, not asking.
Freedom came when I found you. Your smile’s so welcoming and warm. I talked and you heard. I cried and you listened. In your office I was cold and you warmed me. All of a sudden you loved me. You didn’t let me go. I didn’t want to go. So special. So real. You made me believe that coincidences don’t happen. Love starts, love doesn’t end. Chava, you’re so special and so real. You helped me more than you know. You held my hand, you didn’t let me fall even when I fell. I never feel alone because I know you’re still with me. The fingerprints you left are in my heart forever.