מניקין

''מניקין''    

באותו יום הייתימ ניקין

ראשי וגופי תלויים מן התקרה

גפיי פזורים על הרצפה 

פניי צבועות בצבעי אכזבה

עיניי, פצעים פעורים 

ללא כְחַל וללא ריסים 

משקיפות על העולם

ללא מוות וללא חיים.

וגם כי ידעו המומחים 

שאני רק מניקין נזהרו מלגעת 

בי ואמרו, זהירות. לא לגעת. 

זאת אמנות.

ראו, פניה צבועים אכזבה

עיניה פצעים פעורים 

ללא כחל וללא ריסים, 

פיה צוחק ובוכה כאחד 

אך מדוע פזורים גַפֶיהַ על הרצפה - 

אולי היא רק הלצה? 

ושאלו, לשם מה צומחת 

כלנית מתוך צווארה?

ומישהו לחש  

(לבטח היית זאת את)

כדי שיהיה גם משהו 

יפה ופורח ומושלם.

ואני חשתי כל מילה נוחתת 

על פניי כמו יריקה, 

ראשי וגופי תלויים 

מן התקרה, 

גַפַיי פזורים על הרצפה 

בין רגלי מומחים 

נַדִים בראשיהם כשופטים

ובאישונים גְבישיים

מתווכחים על מחירי.

LIFE BIRD

LIFE-BIRD

She disappeared into the fog
my Life-Bird.
At night I watch cold, scolding stars,
by day I lift a hoping face
toward a granite sky
that devours my eyes
with bitter mists.

She vanished like my youth,
and I had not a clue to how or when
or where the days had passed,
melted dumbly like morning dew;
becoming memories
on the walls of my
youth .

Fierce were my days,

passionate my loves,
I wove a tapestry of life–  my spirit blossomed then
like buds in spring.

Where has it gone, the life?
fled without a sign,
I see my image erased,
Inside indifferent eyes
of a proud generation
that cannot even cry.

And still I wait
for the mists to lift,
and still I stare
into unyielding sky,
whistling, calling, begging,
come back Life-Bird,
sing again for me ,
I am not ready
to let you

This is a very special poem, asking so little and requesting so much.

The extended imagery of inclement weather takes us from dejected detachment to dissolving support, always with a yearning. Memory may cling to the walls of youth ‘like morning dew’, but it does so ‘dumbly’, bearing no song for the alienated poet, who would never be ready for abandonment.

Life marches on and March saw beauty flourishing in the rich fabric of a thriving life-force.

I like the way ‘fled without a sign’ answers the question of where life disappeared to, without beginning a new sentence. Compared to the fierce passion of the previous stanza, this one is clearly lower case. The granite sky that opened the poem is still overhanging the mood. Compounded by ‘indifferent eyes / of a proud generation’, life can be hard.

The bitterness of the eye-glaze may yet be mobile. All of the forces of drama are employed, ‘begging’ a reunion . . . please come back, ‘my Life-Bird’ with all that you represent. This poem requests so much and asks so little.

JERUSALEM CROWNED

Golden, golden gilt
sun and flowers – flowered
to celestial height crowned

bejeweled a crown,  

floating over you.

Embracing you in passion, 

so tender, 

so intense, yes, so loving.

In the beginning, there was creation

and it is now creation
life is everlasting– 

and the Name, the Name,

then and now and before 

to an eternity of an everlasting

enriching motion.
I am dead; I am                                            I I am dead no more, for you are reborn.
Your gates speak of these things –

and your watchmen...

I sought my love, yes, 

I sought my love 

and I found a jewel

I brought a jewel 

into my house,
into my heart,
unto the ear

JERUSALEM CROWNED

Golden, golden gilt
sun and flowers – flowered
to celestial height crowned

bejeweled a crown,  

floating over you.

Embracing you in passion, 

so tender, 

so intense, yes, so loving.

In the beginning, there was creation

and it is now creation
life is everlasting– 

and the Name, the Name,

then and now and before 

to an eternity of an everlasting

enriching motion.
I am dead; I am I I am dead no more,
for you are reborn.


Your gates speak of these things –

and your watchmen...

I sought my love, yes, 

I sought my love 

and I found a jewel

I brought a jewel 

into my house,
into my heart,
unto the earth 

that covers me...

YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL FLOWER

YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL FlOWE
(To Love) 

You are a beautiful flower

who's fragrance dwells within the 

flower-pot of my soul.

You are like a woman from 

Samaria or from Galilee, floating
through the Woods. 

A born spirit among the flowers,
like a yellow butterfly-
Like a queen butterfly! 

You are a white sea gull 

flying everyday over my heart, 

over my blue sky, blessing me

Through the vastness of space, 

through the colors of sensitiveness, 

of joy, of love!

LANI”S DREAN

Lani Dreaming

 (From Lani's dreams)

As Lani is dreaming,

her face is brushed by a gentle kiss.

She looks up and touches him

with their gentle memories.

They are standing now; they embrace.

A door opens swiftly.

He is gone.

A balcony sighs… lonely… bereaved.

The lovers are now gone.

A balcony weeps.

Lani is dreaming.

Tears stream down her cheeks.

She sleeps unaware for a while,

protected within eternal rhythm of

sea tides, music and heartbeat

pounding against her.

A balcony sighs,

Lani...Lani...

A balcony weeps,

Lani… Lani.

Suddenly he is walking

in the garden of her mother.

Her mother speaks:

"Lani spring has come.

The big trees around are covered

by a beautiful fresh–green glimmer

the sun’s rays make them glow

in fresh born beauty - lovely –

I cannot recognize anymore

what the trees are really like.

I see so little now. My eyes . . .

But even this unreality is of festive splendor."              

He walks in my mother's festive splendor

as Lani dreams on.

She dreams back to a time before,

as he disappears.

Come back… please come back

she cries in her sleep

I need freedom

Freedom...