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Monday, December 31, 2018
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
So this is the lesson, this is the law - put on your glasses and use your walking stick. Hold hands and keep on focussing ahead. Only look behind you to learn from mistakes and then make the corrections. Don’t look behind you to see the destruction - it will cause a bitter taste, turn you into a pillar of salt. Only look on ahead and learn to walk straight. Forgive yourself… forgive others. Love yourself only then can you truly open your heart. Life is fleeting, kid, grab it, bask in it and allow yourself to feel. Feel the emotions and cry those tears; then stand up, brush yourself off and keep on moving ahead. #instapoetry #dontlookback #poemoftheday #lessonoftheday #poetryoftheday #poem #twitterInstagram
Monday, December 24, 2018
Where to now, on this rainy Christmas day? No snow, no lights and no sense of direction. Clarence ain't nowhere in sight and Daddy's been silent since the spring of 15. Voices on my phone only take me where I tell it to go and all I know is home... Where to now? Clearing skies, clouds disappearing or being blown away, above another place, above another pile of skin and bones. Will they open the door for me when I come home? Will they know who I am if I simply knocked on the door? Thawed and freed from the igloo I once inhabited… Young lady waiting on the train as the drizzle falls - umbrella covering her as I take a picture...something to remember... #poetry #poetryislove #instapoemInstagram
Sunday, December 23, 2018
I watch the day pass from a cafe across from a carnival fountain. I watch as children run around and around, as lovers are grasping onto each others hands as if trying to hold onto this place and time forever, this moment in time, where love and excitement are all that matters. . I watch as people run past in an automatic motion. Staring into their cell phones as if the answers to all of life's mysteries are being explained one by one. I walk past Colin street in this deserted town, nothing other than ghosts and faded colors to celebrate me home…a home from another place in time... An open path leading towards a mysterious enclave, filled with old soldiers and empty stools cast against a shelf. The server tries to make a strong beverage with a cool first name. Soldiers just shake, moan and propose a toast to an acronym that now defines them. I get up from my stool and walk out the door, I head towards the cafe, across the carnival fountain, where the children play and life is simple and simply lived. No disastrous yesterday's that have destroyed our today's and tomorrows, no Sunday night blues which scare away any sense of optimism. Carnival fountain, a fountain of youth to drown our emotional turbulences. It's a simple magic carpet ride to the lips which will lead to forever and immortality… a story, a tale, a anecdote or perhaps a truth? Ramblings, take my hand. Memories, teach me what I have forgotten. Love, heal me with your touch… I am cold, I am cold… I watch the day pass, just another day... #instapoetry #instapoet #poetry #love #cold #warmInstagram
Carnival Fountain
I walk past Colin street in this deserted town, nothing other than ghosts and faded colors to celebrate me home…a home from another place in time...
Thursday, December 20, 2018
The imaginative ways that the poet excavates emotional turmoil only proves the point that the poet, unknowingly, is his own worst enemy. Creative lightning and thunder bursting in bursts of genius through the mid-summer days and nights, when one should be content, should be at peace – suddenly a leaf falls from an oak tree and the poet is faced with an ache he felt a million years ago….blue skies turn into a dark islands of clouds congregating, thunder is heard in the distance and ones inner dogs are startled and awakened – something is happening and you have absolutely no idea what it is… So you grab a pen and you use a napkin – you express your emotions and suddenly it’s all too clear… #instapoetrygram #instagramwriters #wordpress #zaltaInstagram
Balcony overlooking the Past
I question my sense of my past; are my memories true or are those visions simply a movie I watched once long ago? A book read or a song sang? I tend to romanticize what has been and what cannot be again…
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
An Unexpected Encounter
The actresses and models were always drawn to him. Perhaps they felt he could write a story with them in mind or help cast them in a movie. He didn't fancy himself as good looking - rather he was average looking. If he had not been a successful writer he would not be looked at twice. It didn't bother him at all if anything it empowered him.
Perilous dance to music played with a dangerous piano accompanied with some strings and a statuesque pretend blonde singer breathing deeply. Exhaling words written about love from 1933. You know the song, you know it well… It was just a moment, just one moment… How can such a short period of time have a life lasting effect? Synchronised living, emotions and graduations, in synchronization… How can I feel as you feel when we have not looked into each other's eyes since that night on the balcony overlooking the Old City. I have loved and been loved since you, yet the memory of you flashes in front of me like a speeding train; so close yet impossible to grasp... #poetry #poemoftheday #poem #love @poets @poetrypormInstagram
Monday, December 17, 2018
I walk...smile on my face, ice on my head and pain in my gut. Is this my atonement for the lies I have kept to myself - the lies of suppression? I believe in God I believe in His power and I believe in the laws. If I am given the power and I do not use it am I guilty of the sin for murder? #jewish #gift #poet #God #gratitudeInstagram
Sunday, December 16, 2018
This was told tradition, once a year at Christmas, wives apologized for mistakes made throughout the year. Men sometimes accepted those apologies with conditions... #wivesapologize #tradition @thelostways thank you P. S. Men apologized every other moment of the year and were greeted by silence, look aways and finally an accepting half smile #timeshavechanged #sorryInstagram
Friday, December 14, 2018
From January 2013 One of those warm January days outside – soft rain is falling and the temperature is rising, only to fall tonight thirty degrees back into Winter. I walk to a restaurant to get some lunch; the rain picks up and the wind begins to blow so I pull my hood over my head and look towards the ground to avoid getting wet. I walk in and I see the lady who works behind the counter; she always smiles at me and gives me a discount off of my usual order of fresh mozzarella and plum tomatoes pizza. She tells me she needs to get out of this place because they do not appreciate her and can only pay $10.50 per hour. I can see her eyes welling up and I tell her I understand and that things are tough all over; but that they will get better. She nods and says, “Next.” I sit in the restaurant waiting on my pizza to be brought to me. Once again my mind begins to drop its guard and the dusts of reality begin to settle – setting my brain on overdrive and my mood to a deep dark blue. I watch as people around me are in conversation, or lost in their own worlds trying to avoid their own dusts of reality from settling. Distractions in the forms of gadgets and conversations with no substance. Substance is too real to speak about – sports and celebrity are easier to discuss. A lady across from me, dirty blonde hair, red lipstick and large earrings – is speaking on the phone and every couple of seconds or so she looks at it as if its going to show her something on there. She looks confused and ready to hang up but the person on the other line must have other ideas. She looks at the walls and is probably not hearing anything but her inner sounds. #anotherday #descriptive #walk For more see link in my bioInstagram
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
See the music being played, watch as the echoes race across the crowd, see the smiling faces of the listeners who do not dance. Feel the darkness begin to color the evening blue, watch as the stars surround the moon. A lonely photograph never to be seen again. Fields with hues of gold and blonde, silence blasting, the flag hanging at half mast for a dead president who once was reviled and in death is beloved. No cars rushing by, just cows and horses in the barn with an old lady sitting on a chair, on a porch, rocking back and forth. In the deserted park across the way, there is a swing swinging unoccupied and squeaking loudly. All the benches are empty so it must be the wind, or some visitor from another time or dimension. I can see… The day is coming on from the East as it does each day. Ice begins to thaw and icicles begin to drip, upon the mixed rock sidewalk, where nobody walks anymore. Strange strangers strangle across the stable patting the horses as if they were long lost acquaintances. Lost lovers, long for a time from the past when love was so new and so addicting, and passion the antidote for aching loneliness which pounds away at you silently, like a cancer growth waiting to pounce. Everything dies, even emotions, just as everything can be reborn over and over again. In a strange city, with blue skies and a sharp cold breeze, in a park with empty benches and swings that seem to be occupied by invisibles… It's all over yet it's truly just begun. Sleep tight, kiddo, dream well and think of me tonight… when the guards are overlooking you, when the stars begin to fade and the lost lovers search for those old feelings, in an Italian restaurant, on Prince street, once upon a time... Chariots of fire, racing to save this world...I hope it's not too late. #instapoem #poetry #poem #reborn #twitterInstagram
Not too Late
Feel the darkness begin to color the evening blue, watch as the stars surround the moon. A lonely photograph never to be seen again.
Tuesday, December 11, 2018
A sense of self imposed apartheid, bars on my window and chains on my door, visible and restraining to myself, to others they cannot be seen, they are non existent, there are no restraints. Secluded, protected and unshaven… Rough tough and demented towards assorted variations of self inflicted transported dimensions. Another world, another self, do I still have a soul? Watching through the window I see the dogs barking by the curb. A squirrel is climbing up a tree to safety while birds sit silently on a branch, of an oak tree, in a park, over a bench where an old man sits waiting for that lady stranger to sit by his side and try and understand him. Can she ever understand him? Misunderstood and filled with confusion, like a wild horse in a stable, kicking up and raising it's voice… Beauty confined is a murder of sorts. Never understood, never truly seen as if one has never really felt alive. But the old man remembers a time when he would get standing ovation and calls for encores… But the curtain fell a long time ago, just like that song… born out of time, in the storm, left in the wreckage no treasure to be found. Endless tunnels through rocky mountains and wild rivers… wild stories of wild women and stolen cars. There is a light ahead… And it's the sun… Like that old song.. Here it comes again... #poetry #poemoftheday #tunnels #murderInstagram
Monday, December 10, 2018
So where are the bells and when will they ring? Where is the choir and when will I hear theilm sing? When will the dancers dance? When will the sun come from behind that darkness above and take away this cold? Why does the time spin uncontrollably on the wall? What filled those years and why have I survived while so many have gone? Rain puddles on the curb, shining colors of the rainbow. Beneath the grass there is soil that has been stolen from another time, it's seeds are contaminated by the air. See her standing, dark skin and brown hair, she is reading a book from 1920. She has a high cheek smile and her brown eyes come to life when she smiles. O' rain puddles on the dirty street shining colors of green red and blue.. So where did the leaves fall and how did they disappear? Where did the coffee in this cup go to, have I already finished it? While every second passes, I find myself wondering about the missing minutes rather than filling them up with life. That lady, she is staring at me and I am smiling right back. She begins to walk towards me with a pack of cards and a smile. She reads my eyes and she begins to cry. Where did your smile go? Where did the time fly? Why do you hurt so and how can you stand the wind chimes? I hear the bells ring, I hear the songs, I see the sky above and the sun shining warmth. I stand to walk and I see the waves, feel the breeze and sense the time has come to smile. #poetry #emptycupofcoffee #beautiful #thissideofparadiseInstagram
Not Only a Dream
In the air, in the house, aromas of misconceptions and emotional persuasions towards... The fireplace is lit and the heat is overwhelming the freezing drops of wind that find its way inside… Her body, ablaze with her love, hair falling over and her eyes closed and her lips smiling.
You hear that wind blowing, see the snow falling and there ain't a soul outside. In the air, in the house, aromas of misconceptions and emotional persuasions towards... The fireplace is lit and the heat is overwhelming the freezing drops of wind that find its way inside… Her body, ablaze with her love, hair falling over and her eyes closed and her lips smiling. Perfection in a lifetime, it's errors can be traumatic and cause one to fall into a cycle of disbelief, mistrust and constant doubt. Love… Snow is failing and coming on strong. Soon it will be dawn… I can see you coming towards me, from the hallway… How one can live without having dreams or any sort of understanding of those who do, I just don't understand. A flicker of a flame, a gust of an acrid internal wind and a scent of regret permeating through the walls of division. I can sense an ending. Snow falling, coming down harder and being thrust sideways as if to accommodate something, some place. You hear it blowing, whistles like ghosts behind a closed door, a world beyond the door. Unlock it, find the key, find the strength to breathe. It's not only a dream... #poetrychallenge #poetryoftheday #poemsoftheday #poemsofinstagramInstagram
Sunday, December 09, 2018
Friday, December 07, 2018
Pass me my glasses - I need to see straight. Draw me a cup of coffee and come with me for a walk - down the street, to the water and the cold sandy beach. Throw on my jacket - it's kind of chilly outside. Put on a hat and wear a scarf - pull on those boots and lets get going - to watch the frozen waves, on this December morning, as we spin towards the sun. A new day, just like the old day. Same old broken clocks on the walls and false reflecting mirrors. Outside there is scattered trash spinning in the wind and abandoned cars that have run out fuel - no way to go further.. Lock the door behind you, walk a little closer to me and let’s talk. Put on my sunglasses - the sun is up early - the wind is still icy and the snow is still on the ground in colors black, brown with the occasional patch of white.. Pulling up my collar as we ascend the steps towards the boardwalk - deserted beach still has seagulls buzzing ‘round, gray sky with cumulonimbus cotton strewn across. Strange silence in this strange planet we have built for ourselves - we can never go home again. To our beds, to our lives which have passed us by in a twitch, in a blink of an eye inhabited by a group of moments of regret. So this is the lesson, this is the law - put on your glasses and use your walking stick. Hold hands and keep on focussing ahead. Only look behind you to learn from mistakes and then make the corrections. Forgive yourself and then you can forgive others. Love yourself only then can you truly open your heart. Life is fleeting, kid, grab it, bask in it and allow yourself to feel and to be seen... Feel the emotions and cry those tears; then stand up and do what is needed to keep on movin’ on. #poetryporn #poems #picoftheday #beautyInstagram
False Reflecting Mirrors (or Broken Clocks)
A new day, just like the old day. Same old broken clocks on the walls and false reflecting mirrors. Outside there is scattered trash spinning in the wind and abandoned cars that have run out fuel - no way to go further..
Wednesday, December 05, 2018
He walks down Madison avenue towards 34th street and stops at the Morgan Library. Walking out he feels the wind blowing in and the clouds above are darkening the city. He walks and makes a right turn on 34th and heads towards the 34th Street train station. As he is walking he notices a very pretty woman walking towards him from the opposite way. He looks a little closer and see’s its the actress Megan Flynn. He smiles at her and says hello as if he has not seen her in ages. “Flynn, where you off to?” He says. “I am sorry do I know you?” She asks him with a sense of unease. “I was one of the writers on the film ‘Stars’ and we had coffee together a couple of times. Freddy?” “Oh my god, yes, you grew a beard?” “Oh yeah, I forgot I had this on – I am going to be acting in an adaptation of my book, “The Professional Clown,” and I wanted to grow a beard for a part of the film.” “That sounds amazing.” “Hey you want to grab a drink or a bite?” “I was going back to my hotel, but, why not?” He smiled and said, “I know the perfect place.” He brought her to an Italian restaurant and ordered a bottle of red wine. It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon, a week away from Christmas so both of their schedules were clear. The restaurant was set up to look like a dimly lit cave somewhere – so there were candles on their table and they were in the back of the room within an encircled section. “So tell me about yourself, I am sorry I don’t remember much from the shoot, its all a blur to me it was so exhausting.” She said. “Well, I am a Jewish boy from Brooklyn-” #shortstory #blonde #jewishwriter #brooklynInstagram
An Unexpected Lunch Date
He brought her to an Italian restaurant and ordered a bottle of red wine. It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon, a week away from Christmas so both of their schedules were clear. The restaurant was set up to look like a dimly lit cave somewhere - so there were candles on their table and they were in the back of the room within an encircled section.
Its constant, like a hammer on a nail or the rain on a Sunday - you get used to it, you may not like it, but you get used to it until one day your able to stand up, shake it off and just move on. yeah you'll move on but your steps will never have that rhythm, that same jump to it again. - FZ 2010Instagram
Tuesday, December 04, 2018
CHANUKAH 1931 "It was on a Friday afternoon right before Shabbat that this photo was taken. My grandmother realized that this was a historic photo, and she wrote on the back of the photo that ‘their flag wishes to see the death of Judah, but Judah will always survive, and our light will outlast their flag.’ My grandfather, the rabbi of the Kiel community, was making many speeches, both to Jews and Germans. To the Germans he warned that the road they were embarking on was not good for Jews or Germans, and to the Jews he warned that something terrible was brewing, and they would do well to leave Germany. My grandfather fled Germany in 1933, and moved to Israel. His community came to the train station to see him off, and before departed he urged his people to flee Germany while there’s still time.” - Yehudah Mansbuch ✨Written on the back of the photo: “Chanukah, 5692. ‘Judea dies’, thus says the banner. ‘Judea will live forever’, thus respond the lights”. 馃寧 Germany 馃摪 Everyone Has A Story, What's Yours? 馃摟 editor@humansofjudaism.com 馃摫 www.humansofjudaism.com #⃣ #humansofjudaismInstagram
If you allow one person who is guilty to go free you are complicit in their future abuses. @gal_gadot 讛讬讜诐 讗谞讬 注讜诪讚转 注诐 讗讞讬讜转讬 讘讬砖专讗诇 砖诪讜讞讜转 谞讙讚 讗诇讬诪讜转 谞砖讬诐. 讛诪讞讗讛 讛讬讗 讘讘讬转 砖诇讬, 讬砖专讗诇, 讗讘诇 讛转讜驻注讛 讛谞讜专讗讬转 讛讝讜 拽讬讬诪转 讘讻诇 诪拽讜诐 诇诇讗 拽砖专 诇讙讝注, 讚转, 专拽注 讗讜 讙讬诇. 讗谞讬 拽讜专讗转 诇讻讜诇诐 诇拽讞转 注诪讚讛 诇注讝讜专 讜诇诪讙专 讗转 讛转讜驻注讛 讛诪拽讜诇诇转 讛讝讜. 诇讗 注讜讚! 讗讬谉 诪拽讜诐 诇住讘诇谞讜转 讗讜 诇讛讻诇讛. 讝讛 诪讜讻专讞 诇讛驻住讬拽!!! 讘讜讗讜 谞注诪讜讚 讻讜诇谞讜 诪讗讜讞讚讬诐 讜谞爪注拽 诇注转讬讚 讟讜讘 讬讜转专. 讘讟讜讞 讬讜转专. 讜诇讻谉 砖诐 讘讞讜抓 砖谞诪爪讗讜转 讘诪爪讘 砖诇 讗讬讜诐 讜讗诇讬诪讜转 讘讘拽砖讛 驻谞讜 诇注讝专讛 讗讜 诇诪拽诇讟. 讗转谉 讞砖讜讘讜转.讞讬讬讻谉 讞砖讜讘讬诐!!讻诇 讻讱! Today I stand in solidarity with my sisters in Israel who are protesting domestic violence against women. The protest today is in Israel, BUT the struggle is global. Domestic violence doesn’t discriminate against gender, race, religion, background, or age. I call on all people to take a stand against the violence. Enough is enough. No more. It HAS to stop. Let's stand together, men and women, united for a better future. And for you out there, who is suffering, please seek help or refuge, and know that I am here standing for you.Instagram
Sunday, December 02, 2018
Happy Chanukah to all who believe in miracles. Miracles come in all sizes, shapes and forms. Open your mind and feel them, touch them and see them. Miraculous beauty surrounds us, accept them, embrace them and swim in them. Love, love is a miracle. Love with all your heart and soul. Breathe in and blow out, lift up your head and open your eyes to the real world that is your world. Each moment is a miracle, please never take it for granted and don't love as others say you should love, live how you choose to live and be who you choose to be. You are a miracle... #chanukah #miracles #love #life #heartandsoul #hagsameachInstagram
Can you believe this was 33 years ago? Look at the songs most still get heavy airplay. Each of these songs except for one or two remind me of different moments from that year. Different Friends, cities and loves. How about you? What are your favorites? #1985 #nostalgic Thank you @raised_in_the__80sInstagram
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