green breathe

Been busy with leaves and grass... (and getting a haircut and research librarian eyeglasses).

"...here are our thoughts, voyagers' thoughts.
Here not the land, firm land, alone appears, may then by them be said,
The sky o'erarches here, we feel the undulating deck beneath our feet,
We feel the long pulsation, ebb and flow of endless motion,
The tones of unseen mystery, the vague and vast suggestions of the briny world, the liquid-flowing syllables,
The perfume, the faint creaking of the cordage, the melancholy rhythmn,
The boundless vista and the horizon far and dim are all here,
And this is ocean's poem."

School starts next week, internship (@826 NYC Art Space) starts next week...I absorb all the good quiet green air I can.

THE STUPIDITY OF THE JEWS

I am so aggravated I can barely form a coherent sentence let alone think in a logical justified manner... Can someone please tell me what the hell are they thinking in the Middle East??!!

9th of Av the decree for the Sin with the Spies was settled (see Taanit 29a)
9th of Av the death of the Desert Generation was decreed (see Taanit 26b)
9th of Av the Babylonians began the destruction of the First Temple (see Taanit 29a)
9th of Av the Temple was lit by the Babylonians in the afternoon and it burned through the 10th of Av (see Taanit 29a)
9th of Av was the date of the destruction of the First and Second Temples (see Rosh HaShanah 18b; Taanit 26b, 29a)
9th of Av in the year 135, the Bar Kochba Rebellion when the fortress of Betar was overrun (see Rosh HaShanah 18b; Taanit 26b, 29a)
9th of Av Turnus Rufus plowed Jerusalem (see Rosh HaShanah 18b; Taanit 26b)
In 1492, King Ferdinand of Spain issued the expulsion decree, setting Tisha B'Av as the final date by which not a single Jew would be allowed to walk on Spanish soil.
World War I – which began the downward slide to the Holocaust – began on Tisha B’av.
9/10 of Av 2005/5756 JEWS EVICTED FROM GAZA SETTLEMENTS

This is ludicrious, ridiculous, insane...I don't care what fabulous plan Sharon has, protection, surprise attack... i don't give a damn. The minute we give up one inch willingly is the minute we cease to exist. My heart goes out for the settlers losing their entire lives, for the soldiers torn between duties, for all of us Jewish people who are so obviously putting ourselves into our own Exile...
I hope G-d has some grand plan with this one. I pray there is some reason for this... G-d save us from our own stupidity, our own failed reasoning, and most importantly the justifications of our own human logic.

meditation of an overgrown lake

I trekked the many miles away from here-
and found myself going in circles.
The further I went-
the closer I got-
to the self-condemned freedom of my passage.

For every globe of dawn I witnessed-
the midnight moon grew thicker.
Till strange streets tangled
around my neck-
in an unbareable claustraphobia of Time.

In playing to every whim of my spirit-
the slavery of youth intensified.
The flavour of life,
and the texture of being
were lost in race to fogetfullness.

By contemplating the end of my thoughts-
I sufferred a decade of headaches.
And the struggling light
was gone-
blurred in a kaleidescopic whirl of distraction.

As I rode along the precarious cliffs of consciousness,
My feet dangled on the dilapidated dock.
Till the Unknown
became a seductive addiction,
a call to the rippling pools of blackness.

The reflection of trees so startled me-
that I was moved by the tragedy of decayed beauty.
Because in its destitution-
it was supremely perfect-
Pristine in the labratory of nature's folly.

In the fury of all my scribbling
came the most acute of silences.
Disappearing into the body of words-
an exacting silence so fierce
it dismanted the gravity of my paper world.

Perhaps it is sufferring that pays the price-
the almighty cost of our inconsistencies.
Inflictions of pain-
submitted so willingly-
as a means to define our own flawed humanity.

What convoluted form of maturity-
is the quest to dimiss experiences?
Begging for senseless senses
of unsound Reason-
so gratefully abondoned to the Mason jar of childhood.

How gently should life be lived-
as advised by the delicate furvor around us
the grace of winter-
the traffic of summer-
in a contradicting scope of all-encompassing life.

The pulsating world that we people so abuse-
is the horrendous disrepair of a healing carress
so that sorrowful belief-
is the foundation of happiness-
the most potent evidence to the realness of reality.

The broken Self is paved into a runway-
awinged to the flights of a struggling imagination.
And our worst nightmare
is the most holy of places-
Birthplace to the sheltered power of dreams.

My legs feel like lead.
When I got out of bed this morning to shut the alarm clock (yes alarm clock in the summer.) I pretty much collapsed and could not stand on my legs....
Well, here's how it happened...
Yesterday, someone claimed that it was impossible to walk from Parksville to the Liberty library and back. I did it. Just over ten miles. I was just in the mood. It wouldn't have been so bad if I wasn't running the whole time with a load of books. Give me the right stash of music on an I-Pod, give me quiet country roads, give me workable sneakers and yes...i could run forever...
unfortunately i haven't worked out "the-wake-up-the-next-morning- part"...
guess every good thing got its glitches.
Still I haven't filled my lungs with so much air since horse back riding in Ireland. And it's good pain, fabulous pain, the kind after you've used your body to the max.
So friends that's what I'm up to... that and making chocolate chip/blueberry pancakes (a new gross combo my little cousins and I came up with)
It's a beautiful night, I'm going outside... to check on my tomato plants...

I have not forsaken my little smidge in cyberspace... just been a little occupato these days... In fact, today was visiting day (at least for Camp Emunah and BJJ Teen Camp). It was really nice to see everybody, Mooo, Ferkie, Sruly, Rose, Hudi, Peretz, Yummy and the usual multitude of couginos...

Lately I've realized that I have nothing to say. And I believe that when you have nothing to say there is no point littering empty words on the path of conversation.

So, instead of assuming my usual theatrical mantel (because to be honest- I am tired and not in the mood.) I'll just offer an short, unedited clip...very very unedited...very very rough draft...

"There are no clever adages or wise words of borrowed wisdom to begin this short piece with. Unfortunatley, not a single, graceful, elegant word to gently slope into an unplanned plot line...

Summer is by far the most random of seasons. These months of warm weather demand a giggling spontaneity- a childish seriousness in which everything is important, but nothing really matters. It's the great game of summer- playing in this great masquerade of carefreeness, a carefreeness that by definition is not care nor by any means free as each minute leads you closer to that fateful Labor Day (when officially all white linen things get tucked away for a more 'sensible' wardrobe) and a 'labouring' reality commences.

Overlooking my quiet lake, I find it filled noise and activity. Alive with pesky bugs, singing birds and the thick heady scent of flowers I do nothing. Absolutely nothing. I listen hard and attempt to find the stillness around me- a thick, pregnant quiet that slowly makes my mind into some form of maple syrup taffy. Slowly...it pushes the residue of the working year further into the mists of a vivid summer... stretches the cramped muscles for a sensual playground. I wait until it fades away...away...those imprints of time...dropping slowly into a blissful lethargy..."