Death to a Rose at Midnight

You scattered my petals
upon cold narrow streets
from rooftops
from windows
and from the safety
of your sweaty palms.
white laced charm
fragrant grace
now remain
an imprint
upon gray concrete.
winter's approaching
but I lie cold
just
a
bare
green
stem.

nightlight

leaves are barely breathing
fall is sweeping through
city lights glisten
yet i am not moved
while your mind is lit
thoughts clear as day
i sit in the dark
my dreams swept away

the brink

It's the point where reality and shadow meet

The point where artfully shallow meets deep

The point where we gain and lose so much

The point where you and I lost touch

The point that unites and separates

The point of opened and closed gates

I am standing in between

like a thin mesh screen

I am the slick interface

I am the pull-together lace

Take me or leave me

love me or hate me

push me up or slap me down

a plunge me forth until I drown

I am the one that makes the connection

between your eyes and my reflection.

Dying wishes

My body is bound to the earth, and my teeth hurt from trying to cut through the chains.

I wanna feel myself. I lick the blood off my fingers, but its as tasteless as wood.

I wanna hear my voice.

I wanna see if I still know how to sing.

I wanna know if my head is just a sack of fleshy material, or a powerful generator.

I struggle to pull a gum wrapper out of my pocket, and i sign my name on it with my own blood.

If I can't feel myself now, will you?

people, places, and chocolate covered faces

Places hold beauty, yet its the ones that reside there that give it meaning.
History speaks, but nothing is more articulate than the now silenced bearers of the past.
You wish you can race against time.
You wish you can be someone else, somewhere else.
Be something else. Better, or worse.
Your purpose is silenced. Its muted.

You gotta call it.


Just pray that it's not deaf.

The Girl That Can't Cry

The girl that can't cry
has a heart so cold
buried under frozen tears
rhythm; unpredictable, untold.


Her mind digests,
but her souls a dead fire
that can touch, but can't feel,
so she longs for desire.


She can't feel love
cuz she cannot bear pain
She's numb and thick
burnt out and tamed.

she can't blame her past,
though her past is to blame
she puts on a mask
to suit rules of the game.

On the outside, she's a warrior,
yet pain soars to the sky
cuz her once flourishing well
of emotions ran dry.

she attempted to try
any means of escape,
to connect and to feel,
energized and awake.

she desires that someone
could read between lines,
but deep deep down
she just wishes to cry.

Unmasking Truth

Aristotle's claim to fame was that truth is logical. Truth must be simple, non-conforming, and understandable to the mind's eye. Truth is truth if its attainable to the complex and the simpleton as well. But perhaps, even Aristotle can be wrong. Even Torah says so.

According to Judaism, Truth is complex, enmeshed in depth, and must be sought out with clarity. Yet, even the wisest cannot attain an understanding of truth. Because if they were to unfold the deep secrets that lurk behind infinity, Truth would be cheap. It would be unmasked and lowly, and may very well not be truth at all. After all, it would be limited, instead of us being limited to our understanding, truth would be limited to us, making truth no greater than falsehood.

I am led to believe that no one can define truth. We live in a world where nothing is certain. It can be one thing now, and conform to something else entirely within no time. Everything is masked behind the label, hidden behind the consumer ratings. You can never know if what you're purchasing is the real or the fake. You can never see beyond yourself and your logic to be able to state that truth is logical or illogical. I may come close to even saying that we cannot even define truth.
And that's why we create our own truth. We navigate our way between many worlds of different realms, striving to find something that's ours; something we can hold onto. We only know ourselves to the point that even we can say that our own being is unpredictable to ourselves. If so, can we really fathom truth? Can we really define it?
.
I'm still searching. Don't say you have the answers. You may have them, but they are the answers that suit you. They don't necessarily fit hand in hand with the world at large. I will find my answers.

In the meantime, when you rave your reviews of whatever brand of truth you're currently using, just know, you can never be certain.

Killer Thoughts; Shredded Minds

I close my eyes. And my mind opens.
Thoughts; they spin.
Round and round. round and round.
Creating waves. Leaving and returning where Start and Finish meet.
They hurt. They kill.
They shred my sanity into smithereens.
They burn gaping holes in my heart.
They leave sorrow in my pocket.
They paint confusion in my mind.
I'd like to think of thoughts like an old fashioned ceiling fan.
They cause lots of movement.
But in reality, make no difference.

Heels

I'll never forget the day
When I tried on mommy's heels.
I put them on my tiny feet,
To see how being tall feels.

At first I tried to get up,
By holding to the wall,
But every single time I tried
I'd trip and then I'd fall.

Finally after many tries,
I managed to stand up right.
"The moment we've been waiting for!"
I shouted in delight.

I lifted my foot carefully,
Afraid to make step one,
But I made it. Yesiree!
Wearing heels was so fun!

Until I heard my mommy say
"Whats that noise I hear?"
and I quickly scampered away,
forgetting the evidence there. :P

Dare to Predict

I feel the hairs clinging to the back of my neck, the sensation of liquid vapor enveloping me.
Its hot. Too hot to be midnight in June.
But like everything, nothing is predictable.
My hand reaches for the frizzed locks of curls cascading down my back, but I jerk at the sight a of a cat crawling down the neighbors fence into the nearby dumpsters. I stare at it until it becomes double, and then I quickly avert my gaze, and shift my mind back into the chorus of my many thoughts. Thoughts that never evade me, like an annoying tag-along sibling. I wish I could shake off the specks of my past. Escape the figurative shallow waters I've tread. But still, the deep end can make life hard to sail through. It presents challenges requiring use of mind and intellect, something hard to come by. So I switch my gears. I focus on who I want to be.
Dreams dreamt. Millions of them stare down at me, like faces in the clouds. They're all smiling down at me, the kinda sly smile that sends the chills chasing each other down my spine. I'm scared, so I smile back. One even winks at me.

"Remember what you always wanted to be...?" he whispers.
I nod. Though I honestly don't know. But something about his dreamy voice captivates me, and I'm entranced by his very breath.
He senses that he's got me, "perhaps I shall remind you..." he chants, and his laugh echoes across the entire universe. Images begin appearing in the blackness. I see a young girl. Shes has a fixed gaze, and a content smile playing across her lips. She looks a but familiar. wait, could that be me? wow. I think she is.
Flashbacks: Big decisions- Good versus bad seems simple enough.
Smart Choices- great intentions. So great, even my mother approved.
Brilliant results- expected, but they never came.
Dreams come true- I gave up on that ages ago.

...And with a cackle, the picture bursts and shatters, scattering broken pieces all over.
and the rain pours.
pours too heavily for a midnight in June.
Yet, like unlike everything, shattered dreams are so predictable.

obstacle illusions

The whole world spins around me.
faster, faster, faster.
my mind claustrophobic,
clouded with confusion.
My vision is shaded by the fog of my breath on the window to normality.
My only way out,
isnt one at all.
because ropes are binding me
chaining me down,
making freedom seem faraway.
Freedom is a fairy tale,
tasted only by those who can afford it.
But this is real life.
were chained to our habits
chained to temptation.
Trapped by desire.
Trapped by ourselves.
To the world, we are flawless seedlings.
but through the eyes of our own,
were scarred
blemished.
we are the slaves,
the slaves who created the fairy tales
that the worthy live in.
while we sit inside a broken vessel,
susceptible to falling right through the cracks.
we take our challenges as obstacles.
instead of overcoming them,
we unsuccessfully try to push them away.
and now
were holding on.
Not to a rope.
Not to our past.
Not to our fantasies.

But to each other.

Real Livin

The words are pushing their way up my throat. They're sitting on my tongue, waiting. Its been a long time now, indeed. And these words have long since yearned to be said. Something in my conscience always blocked their flow. they try to escape. but they are just coming out in short, choppy sentences. Though there seems to be no meaning... they carry a whole load of dreams. They carry months of tears. and overflowing rivers of thought. I doubt you'll care if they're said, but to me... they represent some form of redemption. like a little part of me being released from chains that bound it for so long. Those thoughts that always killed me, are finally coming to my benefit.
For now, I am living. For real. Its no longer superficial. Whatever I do is because I know I choose to. Not for the attention. Not for the show. This is no longer my lifestyle because you expect it of me; it's mine because I chose it. It's mine because I made it mine. Because it matters to me. I want this to be my life's mission statement. I want to live by it. For one reason.
Cuz it's mine.

And you can make it yours.
too bad someone else had to think it up for you.
Welcome. :)

and enjoy your eternal ride aboard.

Dear Simplicity

Dear Simplicity,
I miss you. I miss the Ignorance you allowed me to own. I miss the Freedom from fear of the unknown. I miss the way you never let me think about the deep stuff, and how you made everything seem like it was just the way it was meant to be. I never had to choose, for you were my only option.
I miss you. I miss you boundaries. I miss your ever-shielding hands.
I may know the truth now, but sometimes i wish you were here to blind me.
Simplicity.
I miss you.

Lots of Love,

a little quivering soul

Hashkafa Report

A bit old, but worth reading
WARNING: holy stuff

Question: You say I have a soul, but how did it get there? What's its purpose? And how come I don't feel connected to it?

Answer:
Have you ever wondered what the world looked like 5,770 years ago? way back when, (no, you're not so old after all...) There was nothing. Actually, it wasn't nothing. there was G-d, and his Torah. Yet, G-d didn't want his Torah for himself, he wanted it to be used, treasured and adhered to. So G-d created a universe, night and day, water and land, heaven and earth, trees and grass, fish, birds and animals. All this, in preparation for His final Creation: Man. The creation that would overcome obstacles and boundaries. The creation that would do and accomplish. The creation that would contribute, and ultimately elevate this world.

Unlike all other creations that were created my verbal command, man was created with breath. Now, do this little experiment: Say anything random that comes into your head. that was easy, right? Good. Now, take a balloon and blow with all your energy. Not as easy, right? This is because breath is INTERNAL, requiring one to exhaust more energy, whereas talking is EXTERNAL and requires little internal energy. Now, when man was in the making, G-d wasn't just exercising his respiratory capabilities. G-d was giving man something more, something from His very being: a soul.

What's the purpose of the soul?

Well, let me preface the answer with a question: What's the purpose of the body?
You might say to eat, drink and be merry. But those are all fleeting pleasures of the body. Those things don't really fit the purpose.
And that is where the soul comes in. The Body is made to house the soul. Because we live in a physical environment, the soul needs to the body to aid it in connecting the physical to the spiritual.

okay.
So now that we got the body down pat, lets go on to the soul.

Remember what we mentioned earlier in regards to creation? We said that the purpose of creation is for man, and the purpose of man is to elevate the world. How does one do this? With the soul! :) It is the soul within us that aids us in revealing the sparks of G-dliness that lie in everything. We use our five senses to comprehend physicality, whereas our soul is used to pierce through that outer material layer and release the G-dly energy within.

"Well, it's all nice and beautiful and all that...but I don't feel it at all..."

Well, let me tell you this: You feel it more that you think. In fact, three out of the five levels of your soul control your physical functions, your emotions, and intellectual capabilities. So, without you even realizing it, your soul really takes central stage in your life. Yet, there are a few parts to your soul that aren't expressed as easily. These are your belief, will, and mostly, your essence.These are the parts of your soul that require application and activation.

Now, you're probably thinking "Okay... so I have a soul and a purpose, but its 5770 years since creation, 15 or so years since I was born, so maybe it's gotten a lil rusty. I mean, I don't feel like my soul plays an active role in my life..."


True, you may have been around for a while, and the world, for even longer. But your soul never gets "rusty" or "old". You're soul is always active, whether your feel it or not. Yet, sometimes we may lose our connection with it. At times, we may be overwhelmed by life and all it entails, that we may at times forget about our souls.

Have you ever burst out crying for no apparent reason? That's you soul crying for attention. Now, you and I both know that if your little sibling cries, ignoring it won't make it stop. If anything, the crying intensifies. Same with the soul. When your soul cries out for attention, ignoring it only intensifies its need for care. Instead, give it a lil attention and a good dose of TLC. Feed your soul by doing mitzvos, giving to others, praying, etc. Try it. See how good that feels? That's because true happiness is attained when one connects to his essence and makes the balance between supernal and the mundane.

Now that you've activated your soul, you're gonna wanna keep it active, right? How does one keep his/her soul active?
It's a little thing called inspiration.If you ever hear, feel, or see something that ignites that warm, fuzzy spiritual feeling inside, don't just let it go. Grab onto it! Capture the moment, and store it for those times when your spiritual gauge is flashing red. Inspiration is the fuel for the soul. Keep it coming, and you're bound to reach internal peace and calm. Keep igniting, and see your soul go aflame with passion. Try it. It works! 100% satisfaction guaranteed.

Living Paradox

Blame it on Mozilla Tabs. Its the only reason I keep switching off between Taylor Swift's Youtube channel and an article Titled "What does G-d have to do with it?" from Chabad.org. Of course, its not Mozilla at fault, but rather coincidence that is purely to blame. Right?

Theoretically speaking, its all good and true. That's until reality hits. And yep, you're right, I am solely the one to blame. My evil conscious is jumping up and down, holding his tattered blanky, and whining breathlessly in between drinks from his sippy cup. "Nuh uh! nuh uh! Its all HIS fault! Its my childhood! Its my parents' fault! My School is the one to blame! Anyone! Just not me!!!" Sob... Sob... whimper.. whimper...
-"Okay! Fine! We got the point! Now, Shut up down there! will ya?!"

But hey, its 2010 and its about time for that once-in-a-decade reality check.
Yup. The qualifications are all in place...

And the verdict is... (thump thump thump.. judge's gavel hits the podium).... I am guilty.

Okay... this can't be real! Me?!
indeed, my life has caught up to me. And all this time I've been falsely thinking that the race hasn't even begun.

Forget about Mozilla. Forget about coincidence.
If innocence can be reclaimed, then I'll be the first to claim it.
I've allowed myself to believe that by passively living I am taking the easy way out.
Its about time I stop running away from confrontations.
Its either G-d or Taylor Swift. Or Can I make do with both?
I want both. So, so, so badly. The indecision hurts.
Ive been waiting around for the wind to push me in the right direction, but all it's done was knock me down.

I am a living oxymoron, paradox, contradiction. I am unlimited to the limited. I am known by the unknown. Every word I say is counted for. Every thought I think is collected. Every step I take is measured. Someone up there knows it all. And yes, G-d has lots to do with it.

Void

We all come into this world with a big void.

Our job is to fill it.


So, are you filling it with gold?...

...or are you stuffing it with trash?

I BELIEVE.
















thats all.

Dancing in circles

Im all alone in my prison. Just me. And a crank on the wall.
They say that on the other side, there is a mill.
And that every time it turns, wheat becomes flour.
Knowing this has become my only source of comfort.
My source of hope.
My lifeline.

Every day I put in effort. The wheel may be hard to turn,
but I turn it for my good.
For my sanity.


And I put my faith in you.
That when I am free, I can proudly say that the effort was given,
and the rewards are mine, and reap the fruits of my labor.

But what if its all A lie?!
What if I turn the wall and there is really nothing there?

I keep walking in circles with my eyes closed.
Blinded by my faith? Maybe.

But at the end of it all,
will I have produced my wheat?

Or just lost a couple of pounds...

as I walked around in circles.
With my eyes closed.

Thanks, Mr. G-d

Everything in life follows the rule of sequence.

First comes the seed, then comes the fruit.

First comes the labor, then comes the satisfaction.

First we put in the effort, and naturally, we expect appreciation to follow.

But like all rules there are exceptions.

How many times do we give and give, and see nothing in return?

How many times do we pray and pray, and receive no salvation? How many times do we make promises to G-d, and then he just stands by, pretending to be oblivious to our desperation?

At times, I gaze into the blue and see your hand shooting from between fluffy hills of cloud.

And just when I think its coming to wipe the tears off my face and take my prayers straight up to you, it sweeps across my nose, holds my tears, my prayers, on the edges as if dirty tissues, and just casts them away into the vastness of your great big world.

Thanks Mr. G-d.

Thanks for nothing.

This day a year ago

This day, one year ago...
we breathed the air of uncertainty, unable to believe the impossible that actually was.

This day, one year ago...
questions flooded our minds, and pain filled our hearts.

This day, one year ago...

we prayed from within begging for the salvation of those we hardly knew.

This day, one year ago...

we were all brothers fighting alongside one another, knowing that although we lost lives, we really won.

This day, one year ago...
even the farthest came back, if not for eternity, then just for a moment.

This day, one year ago...
all were eager to give anything, do anything, just so that G0d could go back on his ways.

This day, one year ago...
History changed. it now had another chapter to tell over, another event to file.

this day, one year ago...
we changed. our outlooks changed. we became more giving, caring people, maximizing each moment as if it were our last. Cuz we knew then, that G-d gives and G-d takes. We are just living on borrowed time, time not meant to be wasted away by frivolities but filled with acts of goodness and kindness.


And now, its one year later. Time heals, you know. Like it or not. Take it or leave it. Sure, the pain's there, but sadly, we've come to terms with the reality of it. We see now that there is no going back. Whats done is done. All we have from here is to go forward, move onward.


So while the Hachlata sheets are passed back, I take one, and stare at it sheepishly. I know that it's is the least I can do to give back to those that gave so much more. But I can't. Suddenly, that paper becomes a soggy sheet drenched in my confusion, letters smudged by my ego. All my doubts come creeping out, telling me that hachlatos are of no use and have no meaning... and "Since when do u believe in these things anyways?"

Since when?
Since when?

Since forever.... until this day, one year ago.