Why I Am A Pacifist

The parents of my parent's parents
made their way to where
I would not know
from hunger pangs, pogroms,
a fate cast in fire

Their memories are for blessing

They cracked the yoke
of violence born
of fear and lack
so that I might bear only
what weight I choose. And I do,
carrying hope and my blood's memory
of slavery and sacrifice
like shiny epaulets, dangling
from my clean, grateful shoulders.

The streets I walk are golden,
I am more at ease
than even in their dreams.
I see this sacred world
not through their bloodshot eyes
and for this
to bless them for this blessing
daring to imagine
and for my children's children
I am a pacifist.

Eaton Canyon Psalm

two logs of perfect complement
balance between two rocks
over raucous waters

ever watchful
of the watch
layers of listening

to whom rushing reeds, canyon quarry
to whom glowing hoary hills
just beyond unseen snow

to you of course
to all of you
to your unusualness

what else can one offer a wedged log in need
save prayer
each end, a celebration

in the next world
there will be time
to tell of all you've seen so far

Remembrance

an abundance of wine
a small bag of avocados
and parentheses

my gifts are wrapped and ready
in this love poem to my soul
on this night of six million deaths

today is a gift
that's why it's called the present
if this is correct, press one

Holy Holy Holy

balanced and complete
freedom and safety
calm and ecstatic

grant that I understand and be understood

confident that you get my meaning
even better than myself

in the ongoing unconscious dialogue
mother and mentor
missing and known

not empirical truth
nor many truths
nor many versions of the truth

truth is multidimensional
all and more
unknowable

each citizen a translation of the founding word
each society a document in humanity's holy canon

fear is in your head
so forget your head
and you'll be free

feel your power
suppress tendency to fantasize
that the good stuff is out of reach

Yom Kippur Haiku

the flag that waves, the leaves that whirl
speak the who each we should be
despite passing squawks or sirens

Missive

after A.S. Byatt


on my safe stool
to lifeless dust
no lightening struck

burned and utterly
small light
peace of my beloved

like straw on a dry day
and a deal
that holds its shape

and infintesimal moment
random speaks
threatened solitude

I read your mind
but I say
this has extended from the clearing

as unknown others
proceed apace
and forgive me

Each Learning

for Martha & Andy

Marriage and Torah --
the essence remains
week after week, year

after year. Sometimes
in song, sometimes on page
or parchment, or at tables laden

with bread and guests,
we pass through a cycle
of again revealing

what is yet to be
learned. Earth is born
each time Adam

and Eve eat together;
Rachel and Jacob, in love,
suffer and redeem;

longing and ecstasy
read fresh, at a new
time, a new table.

Love, I am reborn
each day you love me,
receiving discovery
each year of learning you.

Sincere Cliches for Elul

you and I, God
are one in the same
and complete strangers

soulmates and magnets repelling
a chromosome of spirit separates
an everblooming seed

eternally and simultaneously
potential and completion
accompanied and alone

you and I, God
need each other
to recognize ourselves

23 Headlines and a Cartoon Bubble

hoping this new rush pans out
US fights the clock
easier said than done

tax idea gaining weight
art hits new heights
is latest curse to check in

a gift and how
we might pay for it
in the gun-selling business

justices weigh major shift
stir up rough seas
attack killer rapist

mired in fear
yes, in theory
a record of safety worries

voters' fingers cut off
secret burials reported
chief slams release

militant lays down arms
shifts tactics
would-be assassin is freed

network fears crackdown
poisoning sparks investigation
okay, pull the plug

Spirit Lust

(from the collection Wanton Psalms)

I only want to

rub my heart

and rifle through your cards

catch your eyes

in action

slightly more expansive

I seek your face

everywhere

avoiding too loud

in the hope

of hearing your silence

my unrequited spirit lust

searches for a long pause

is that the problem

is my vacuous desire

my human ache

showing too plainly

a sting brings back the purpose

chaos vision

eloquence astounds

meaningless and all that's true

the wonder of how to

embody

a beautiful Hadith

from the collected oral tradition of Islam, this teaching highlights religious commonality:

The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: "For the Jews (the day designated by God for communal prayer) was Saturday, and for the Christians it was Sunday. And God turned toward us (Muslims) and guided us to Friday (as the day of communal prayer). In fact, (God) made Friday, Saturday and Sunday (as days of prayer)."

Sahih Muslim, Hadith 417

An Elul Poem

Back to Work

there I think

of your known elements

and how we will soon begin again--

words unnecessarily split

from meaning and sweet sound

amuse but require

all elements to move--

needs the unseen

unfelt touch

to loose the chord--

your vellum face

over my environment

fades but my eyes

will not forget

nor unfog

I feel and not feel

see and not see

you and not you

--my methods

means and devices

are primitive and paltry

my intention in contrast

shift the mother angle

toward the beloved

with me--I will--

move the elements

I can touch

we will soon begin again