The Way of the World and How Small I Am

I wandered the city streets feeling rather small and out of place.... much like a fish out of water. It was hard to breathe-- though, that could be attributed to all the smokers and their insensitivities of blowing in my face. Or perhaps the kicked up smog and dirt of the cars rushing by. The air was filled with the cacophony of incessant honking, pedestrians on their phones and muted music flowing into the street from the shops. I wanted to pause... let everything, and everyone around me stop, for just one second. My brain could hardly process all the activity, noise and sights.
It was oddly chilling... all these people... all of their lives... parallel to mine... just in another reality... We all exist on the same earth, in the same time, and maybe have a thing or two in common... but have nothing to do with each other.
I have always wondered what it would be like to meet every person in the world... the President... a starving child in Africa... a NYC hipster.... a religious folk, from any walk of belief... the stranger down the street....
And not even the secular amongst...
A trip to Monsey showed me that their are so many of my own, my own brothers and sisters that I will never know... or understand...
Sometimes... it makes me think.

Good Mornin' Prayers

Another day has arrived

I open my eyes to see the wonders waiting

I hold my breath as the world reveals

All the brilliance you continue creating

I rush around, there is so much to do

Caught in the moment, I pause and think

How long can I keep running on autopilot

When you and I are never in-sync

So I take three steps back

Just to talk to you, so you can hear

That even if though sometimes I run

All I really want is to be near

In hushed whispers I am reminded

Of all the things you do for me

Breaking through the illusions of this world

And enter the next world reality

Can you hear me, down here on earth

I wonder if you’re watching when I am so far away

I’ve been working so hard

To see your hand in every day…

And when I say my thanks to you

When I awake each morning and open my eyes

I am alive, once again

And only then, do I truly realize.

The Little Things

My school started a program a month ago... it's called Todah Time. A jingle is played over the loudspeaker, and everyone is supposed to grab their Todah Time notebook and write down something they are thankful for. I was good about it for... two days. Three tops.. but the idea is still there... so here is my list about things I am thankful for today....

1. Coffee in the AM (Pre- Chumash Class)
2. An excused note to class (Chumash Class)
3. Teacher came late (Navi Class)
4. A really yummy orange (Break)
5. A substitute who just shmoozed (Historia)
6. A yummy sandwich (Lunch)
7. Chocolate and a nap (English)
8. An amusing teacher and chill class (Hug A Dev- College)
9. Mindless period of Photoshop (Photoshop)
10. Submitted my yearbook pages (FINALLY!)
11. Ordered a sparkly ring
12. Went to the gym
13. Cleaned my room
14. Designed a cool logo
15. A yummy dinner


Wow.... this was an awful day, I nearly cried five times (at least), I wanted to scream and curse everyone and everything, chuck a computer, yell etc... But look... fifteen things...
Sometimes life is pretty amazing...

Hashem loves you!
Hashem is OBSESSED with you! He has a picture of you on His fridge... sends you flowers every spring, takes your picture in a storm...

Stained

The overturned Starbucks cup…

Cold, dark dregs of a too-sweet drink

Dripping down the side of my desk…

Spilled over those papers “I was going to get to”

“When I got around to it”

Leaving wet stains as a sad reminder

Of the things I never accomplished

The rising scent of a once warm comfort

Permeates the cold air

Leaving an uncomfortable stench

That for some reason

Won’t go away…

And there lies the very reason…

I never cleaned up.

Can You See?

Looking at this portrait, reflection of me
Eyes revealing the window to the soul
Inner depths that lie buried beneath facade and fear
Are the only understanding I can give for playing this role

Sometimes it's seems like more has to be hidden
Than told, it's all a matter of protection
Yet, buried truths are the only means
That can guide and lead in the way of perfection

This road to destination
Trying to be guided in the right direction
And every image captured before my eyes
Means seeing the world through a veil of discretion

And the camera's flash snaps again
Frozen in time is another moment, for good or bad
At least I have the memories to be reminded of
And despite the heartache, I am still glad

So look into these eyes
And tell me what you see
Be careful, go too deep
And you just may see the real me.

"Life is more angelic when covered in snow..."

Snowy perfection…

I forgot what it’s like to be pure...

Before the scenery became driven and tracked,

Preceding the gleeful footsteps

I was once complete,

With no spaces between,

Or black marks sullying myself.

Ah, to sit inside in the warmth

Admiring the shimmering landscape

While remembering the days of past times

A warm coffee is settled in my hands

With soft sips, I feel the calm…

And the kindness of a former time.

Be Strong

I would like to take you in the curve of my hand
As you sit, slumped under the stars
Crestfallen as tears slide down your cheeks
And you wish you were in another life...

Sometimes life becomes to hard too bear
All the day to day pain and hurt build
An unsteady tower has become your safe haven
And when the moment comes, it will crumble

But lean on me for support
I will hold you during your hardest times
I'll build a foundation to keep you from falling
There will be no fear of destruction

But... if I don't hear your pain
I cannot come to heal you
If you don't cry; keep it inside
Then I won't know where to look

So while you are hurting and want to hide
Just pick up the phone, call me anytime
I will be waiting patiently to hear your voice
Until then... my child... stay strong.


I wanted to be strong enough, still sometimes being strong can be the hardest thing to do...
You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have...

I Couldn't Resist...

So I just found this site that determines readability and grade level of text... I entered this poem and got a score of: Flesch-Kincaid Grade level: 33.
Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease score: -16.

According to this calculator The Flesch-Kincaid Reading Ease score indicates how easy a text is to read. A high score implies an easy text. In comparison comics typically score around 90 while legalese can get a score below 10.

The Flesch-Kincaid Grade level indicates the grade a person will have to have reached to be able to understand the text. E.g. a grade level of 7 means that a seventh grader will be able to understand the text.

Which basically means I write on higher than an 8th grade level! *Phew*

How do your blog posts measure up?

Thoughts...

One:
Reality cannot be refuted
After all... if the only thing we believe in
Isn't real...
What can we rely on?
*Click*


Two:
Kill with kindness
Lynch with love
Drown with endearment
After all...
It's decreed from Above
(And that's where you'll go)


Three:
Beyond the pixelized images
The apparent O B V I O U S
There is a thin veil of mirage
That obscures what is
Right
Before
Your 
Eyes




Sometimes my mind hurts...

The Human Condition: Man is Not an Island

(Second post, 1/18)

The Human Condition: Man is Not an Island

Man is not an island

To exist on his own

He is not some self-reliant being

That can function alone.

Perhaps a man thinks

That he succeeded because of his own will

And that without the help of others

He scaled the achievement hill

By his own hand

And by none other than his own might

He was the one to lead the masses

Out of the darkness into the light

He was the sole supporter

Of mastering his own accomplishments and success

And when he was falling beneath the surface

He did not call out in duress

When he wandered through barren deserts

He asked not a soul for a drink

His thoughts were turned inward

And only of himself could he think…

For his own goals

He believes he made it on his own

And it is plainly evident

In his appearance and tone

But, man is no island

And he needs others to live

So that he may accept

And as well, learn to give.

(First Post of 1/18)

If I showed it in class... that would force you to watch....


Did you really mean that?
Is it really so important to you?

A Time

A time to work.... a time to play...
A time to wish... a time to say...
A time to wonder... a time to hope...
A time to smile... a time to cope...
A time to laugh... a time to cry...
Oh wait....
No time for that last one...
A time...
To move on.

ETA: Unknown

This road to destination

A misguided GPS route

Because

You're not calling the shots

And that

Disembodied voice

Does not turn you

In direction

Yet, you follow

Blindly

Forgetting

The wheel

With a foot on

The brake

And you

Cannot control.

But you're foot

On the pedal.

Keep

On

Driving...

Thank Goodness for...

The day of rest,
Where at best
I can be slightly reassured
You won't come my way
I am safe from you
On this holy day.

No fear when wandering
That we'll meet while I am pondering
Deep in thought
Of how I will avoid your gaze
Like I do, on the five other days
For today...
You are away.

There is no need
To run into rooms, indeed
For there are none where you can come
During these 24-60 minute frames
There are no playing games...

Because... in a short time
You've become a drug of mine
That I search for
Like an addict in desperation
To satisfy this starvation
And my soul that is dry
You spin in a high

I look, I hide
But thank goodness
For today,
You're on another side.

Good Shabbos.

Eternal Reality

If this world isn’t real

My thoughts are wisps

Of תהו

And my words

Are בהו

Non existent

Expressions

Imbued with the

Breath of שכינה

That perhaps

Retains strength

But…

The veil of reality

Is thick

Thinning

As I perceive

His hand

Lifting the curtain

Revealing

Eternality

Dreams...

What can you tell me about
dreams...
that sorrowful existence between
reality and wishes
That leaves a man spent
Staring through the mirror
At an unattainable reflection
Of desire
Because that which we see
Is not a part of us
And what is simply a mirage
Will never be believed
Because
beauty is in the eye of the
beholder
and you need two witnesses
to prove it.

The Pathway to Hell

Part I
The road to good [intentions]
Is paved with hell (true story)
And those who disagree
Are the construction workers
Who make the journey
That much more unbearable
With rocks thrown up
And deep black pits
They have signs that say slow down
But the sooner I reach hell
The fiery end
I can be drilled and cemented
Burned and beaten
And then, all those intentions
Are only for the good.

Line of Disconnect

There is a line...
That runs through my mind,
And spells out "disconnect"
Black on white...
Mumbled prayers...
It is the line that divides...
Between understanding and acceptance
Ie. Cognitive Dissonance
Of which there is no explanation
Rather an image of....
Head held in hands...
And the slow, steady fall
Of tired drops of water
And soft, unmoving lips...
That cannot articulate
Or grasp the words....
That are appropriate to express...
Rather, remaining silent..
Frozen in time...
Just like that dream
Of wishes and hopes unfulfilled...
Stopped cruelly...
At one....long...line...
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\______________________________________________

Fear

I felt that restrictive rope
Pull tighter around my already constricted throat
As I gasped for another breath
A vain attempt for another word of mine to be heard
Yet, pressed into submission at the lips
They never got farther than my parched tongue
Caught in the chained confines of my vocal chords
With no means to escape, except a pleading look
Yet, not enough, I hold my hands in defeat
Fall, crumble to my already bleeding knees
As I watch you take yet another precious belonging of mine
Whisk it away, laughing on your chariot of gold
Salty, hot tears slide down my fiery red cheeks
Burning trails, leaving stinging pain in my blood stained eyes
You held me prisoner, held back from all I loved
A demon, so monstrous... the ruler named Fear.

Sometimes my sense of desire
To give
Out weighs my sense of
Thinking clearly...
And sometimes...
That really hurts.