The Secrets You'll Never Know

I'm sure if you knew
The thoughts running through my aching mind,
Another friend, I promise,
I'm sure you'd be quick to find.

Beneath this charming smile
Underneath the one liners and jokes
Is a heart that is breaking
As it is beaten, and chokes.

You think I'm suave
And everything is fine?
Wait until, one day
You'll hear these dark thoughts of mine

The way I let myself succumb to pain
As it rips across my skin and heart
This happy girl you see
Is only moments from falling apart

And I have questioned, searching for truth
I hoped you would follow the clues
That would lead you to understand and know
About my terrible inner abuse

Yet you think, I'm still
Just jokes and causing trouble
I've built up this persona
That will soon fall to rubble

Do you doubt these words?
Perhaps so, as most do
But I am writing them
Because now... I can only rely on you.

A work of fiction... or is it?

The News

Casual conversation of trivial topics-- or maybe not, as pain is never trivial--
Turns into heart stopping fear, of an intense kind
As realization settles in, hard and heavy...
And acceptance starts to plant seeds
That will one day bear fruits
Of understanding, and perhaps contentment,
Though for now, I stand, with a weighted heart
To simply allow the news, to take root
While it is watered with my falling tears
And soaked in the light of a sun
That is happiness, as it shines to penetrate
Against the blackness that fights to lay dark clouds
Of anger and depression, perhaps revolt
In a most vicious manner.
Inner storms brew, waging war on my state of being
The cold, the warmth strike each other
As one tries to emerge victor
The defender of my bliss, the offender of the sadness tyranny
The protector of my madness, the offender of my elated laugh
Two enemies, or perhaps, two friends
Who fight to achieve an inner balance
Of which I yearn to know of, and let blossom within in me....


(It's late, I'm reading Shakespeare, and I have come to the surprising, and almost frightening realization, I know far too many sick children and adults... chronic or cancer, it's almost too much too bear. And those are alive and suffering might out weigh those who have passed on, yet the number is still too great on either side... And as I write down another name to daven for-- Tehillem is all we have-- I come to the chilling conclusion... nothing in this world is in our hands. It's all up to Him. And if He doesn't know what's going on... certainly we can never... Good thing He's steering this ship. At least I can be assured I'll land on a warm, safe island soon... with all those I know who suffer an illness a sea, resting blissfully under a warm sun and sipping fruity drinks....)

It's Just Details

Sometimes we get so caught up in the tiniest details, the scrutable details that we like to over analyze, rip apart, and wrap ourselves in. We take such pride in discovering every nuance, the mistakes, or perhaps, the stark correctness, that sometimes.... we lose sight of the bigger picture. We notice the trees, but forget that they are part of something bigger: a forest, spanning miles, comprised of thousands of the trees that on their own, are simply just a trunk and some leaves. In and of itself, it's good, but it lacks the majesty of the vast forest. And when we focus on the details, we miss out on so much. Rivalries between chesed organizations lose out on so much when politics, the details, get involved. You are limiting one's chesed opportunities simply because you don't agree with their  policies? What about those who are being put at a disadvantage because of your discretionary attitude? That once bright light lacks luster when you pull out those arrows, those unavoidable details, yet almost unnecessary shots. Why attack on the things that are just small supports, when there is a bigger foundation that needs building and reinforcement?
Don't get me wrong... details are important. Without them, a goal would be unattainable-- a far off wish that has no basis of being achieved. Without details, a story would lack character, plot, setting, theme and tone. Without detail, a painting would be a drab expression of someone who grabbed a paintbrush and started splattering. It would just be a canvas, with no explanation as to the color choice, the composition or design. And a song, without detail, would end up being an ear splitting display of poor voice choice, lyrical composition and instrumental mishap. It would be a disaster. Yet, in those situations, the details stand to uplift and elevate. And at times... the details stand to simply tear us apart.
You're husband must learn in kollel! The workplace is NO place for a women! It is a man's achrayis to support his wife! Torah is the ikkur of any Jewish home!
If these specific details (aside from the last one) dictated our lives, surely we would succumb to madness. Yes, there is the ideal, but then, life comes along and we must make decisions and adjustments accordingly.
So take a walk through a forest... notice the trees, the way the light shines through... but don't forget, you are still strolling the forest.

The Blackness

Black... on my hands...
Black... around my neck...
Black... covering my entire body....
Black... on my feet....
Black... up my legs....
Black... around my ears...
I am covered in blackness....
But all I see is blissful, whiteness...

Wherever you are... I hope you're warm...

The Finish Line

I have... persevered, for years; months... endless days
I said to myself; whispered in the mirror...
I want this... more than you, them... anyone
Determination to succeed
Overcame my spirit and mind....
I stepped on endless toes...
Killed thousands of others
Simply because.... I decided,
And thus annihilated.
Yet none of it mattered
For that glorious ending
Remains clear in sight
And those who supported me....
Pushed me to get here....
And they say that because of that
I am successful...
But what about...
The hundreds of times I murdered
And was put to trial
Found wanting...
Fallen
And forced to pick myself back up...
again... and again...
Can that be... success?
Or is it after... I have reached the finish line
The here that is lusted for
By you, I, and all the rest
Is it the prestige, the wealth
In this moment... that is success?
Or the time before?
Perhaps in the future,
The time after here.
I am running, racing with every breath
But... with each stride
I am left to wonder...
Where is the finish line?

The Man at the Front Desk

The man at the front desk had been waiting. He was due to have an appointment arrive to meet with him. The guest was late and the man was becoming impatient. He wandered, he dawdled, he waited, yet he knew with perfect faith, his guest would arrive... eventually. The clock ticked ominously on the wall. At first glance, it was normal, but closer inspection revealed differently. The hands ticked as a clock does, but instead of an arrow at the end pointing to the number, it was a face, and instead of numbers along the edge, it was a location. One such hand, was moving slowly towards the hotel where the man at the front desk was waiting. He watched the hand move slowly, slowly, almost never reaching the hotel.
The man at the front desk was anxious. Nervous... and excited. He had longed for this guest to arrive... they had spoken a few rare times on the phone, communicated, albeit in brief sporadic times. They had what would be considered a friendly relationship, but the man at the front desk wanted to know this guest personally, and talk with him for long hours... He desired to have a close relationship with the guest... to be friends on the deepest level.
The hand moved... ticking closer toward the hotel... it was almost time.
Suddenly, there was ding at the front desk. The man whirled around. There was a different guest waiting to be attended to. This one had problems galore. She ranted and raved, talked on and on, finally, succumbing to tears. The man at the front desk cared for her, brought her to a safe room and promised her she would be ok. Then he went back to the clock. He stared... until he realized... the hand wasn't coming closer to the hotel. In fact, it was turning away. The man at the front desk, with a single tear in his eye, sighed loudly. His guest was due to check in.... but decided to take a detour to the hotel... he would arrive... eventually.... until then... the man at the front desk would wait...

Footprints, a song

Ever had a moment, single spark of inspiration the bursts forth? (Usually at very inappropriate times?) I had one of those moments today, and this is what came of it... a song...

Walking along
I see before me
Flashes of my life
My past memory
Mirrored against
Footprints in the sand
Unrolled and unraveled
It's G-d's Master Plan

All the pain
The triumphs and tears
From all my life's
Happiness and fears
Here and there
He walked with me
Until I'm left alone
It's there I can't see

Chorus:
Where were You
When I needed you most
Where's your imprint
Along the water's coast?
Through the darkest times
You let me walk alone?
Why did you leave me
To make it my own?

The sun starts to shine
Your voice echoes in the air
"My child, please see,
I was always there...
When you needed me most
I never let you go
When the footprints show just one
That's when I carried you close..."

Chorus:

Where were You

When I needed you most

Where's your imprint

Along the water's coast?

Through the darkest times

You let me walk alone?

Why did you leave me

To make it my own?

גַּם כִּי-אֵלֵךְ בְּגֵיא צַלְמָוֶת, 

לֹא-אִירָא רָע  כִּי-אַתָּה עִמָּדִי

Though it seemed
Like you left me to chance
You held my hand
In my life's journey and dance...

Another Day...

Things you don't want to wake up to...

There was an accident... be careful... what happened?... He... died....
He was... her son...

Modeh Ani....

Stress is not reality.
It's perception.

Breathe...

Oh The Times We Live In...

Chanukah... yea, it's the running theme among just about everything.... the popularity of the Maccabeats music video (Yes, I did write about it before... still confused about it, but more placated... sort of), the new age Matisyahu song, the parody video by NCSY, the dancing Chabad guys... and on, and on, and on... (ha)... But then, it hit me today... like a ton of bricks...
Basically... I have this one class... and I don't really like the teacher most days. Her style of teaching is about 90 miles an hour, and yes, I like to drive fast, but not through my learning. Anyhow, my class was hocking her about how we haven't had any parties and we are so over worked and on, and on and on... (ha... again). And then she said something that really cemented the times we live in....
The neis of Chanukah isn't supposed to be publicized through chart topping music videos and over sized menorahs (though yes, it is a good way to perform pirsumei nisa) but it isn't the ikkur. What the Maccabim fought for, DIED for, was NOT the right to party and get stuffed on latkes and sufganiyot (yea, I had some of those) rather, they sacrificed their lives, for the eternal right of our people: to learn Torah. That is what Chanukah is all about. When the Yivanim attacked us, first they went for our spirituality... invading our minds with twisted ideas about the glorious human body, physical perfection, materialism... yet, we stand for the purity of the neshama, spirituality, kedusha and most importantly, Torah...
And in this day and age... I think we sometimes lose sight of that... we let that Greek philosophy seep into our homes and minds, not really realizing it... these days, it isn't so overt and obvious... it's subtle and sneaky...
But.... did the Chashmonaim really fight just so we could live in luxury and maybe learn a bit here and there? No.... they fought so we could delve into the depths of Torah, submerge ourselves in Mikor Chaim-- Hakadosh Baruch Hu... they fought so we could live...

What Is Real?

I find myself

Rather trapped amidst the

Thoughts that plague my mind

Things of beauty turned

Ugly and dark

Disturbed patterns

Of no control

And weak attempts

At tricking the perverseness

Into something healthy…

It’s not bad

It’s reality

But it is creeping dangerously

Bombarded by how they view it

And its all I know…

So tell me…

What is real?

As the Candles Glow...

It's that time of year
When there is abundance of cheer
The sky may be cloudy,
But down here it's crystal clear....

It's the holiday season
And without rhyme or reason
We are sucked into the bliss
Of practicing religious treason

It becomes quite all right
To sing about the glowing candlelight
To uplift, it may succeed
Through a tune called "Dynamite"

We allow the outside world in
Is it elevation or simply sin?
Are we bringing the low up high
Or succumbing to assimilation?

I'm having mixed feelings as the candles glow
There is a tune playing, that the outside world all know
Did we make it kosher?
Or just so-so?

The chag of light is burning strong
But do we have the right idea as the days go along?
Of coming closer and bringing the spark inside ourselves
Or are we ourselves causing the Galus to prolong?

An Utterance

It was an uncomfortable statement....
Said in earnest...
That caused us to squirm
And obey...
But it confirmed a hope...
That there are those among us...
Who remain on the straight...
And true path...