merchants
July 30, 2009 at 9:59 pm (encounters, me, personal, poems, thoughts, wishes, writing)
Tags: adventure, heart, hope, life, lust, merchants, modest, personal, poems, silk, thoughts, treasure
sick
July 28, 2009 at 9:04 pm (encounters, me, personal, questions, thoughts, wishes, writing)
Tags: altneuland, hope, love, personal, sick, swine flu, symptoms, thoughts, writing
I have all the right symptoms to flirting with swine flu,
coughing alef bet on my way to a land that officially keeps kosher
I have all the right symptoms of being hopelessly inlove,
spitting affectionate words on a man who is empty of emotions.
I have all the right symptoms of getting older,
snoring charts melodies on my way to altneuland.
I have all the right symptoms to be shamelessly wishful
shouting my hopes to a man who lives in a different chapter.
July 27, 2009 at 10:03 pm (encounters, me, personal, poems, questions, thoughts, wishes, writing)
Tags: heart, home, hope, life, mistress of spices, personal, thoughts, בית, געגועים, שוקולד, תבלין
מחשבות שוקולד , הבל רוזמרין
ערסל של תקוות, כסא מתנדנד ישן,
ריח עור מלוח, פיסת שיער דביקה,
טיפה מלוחה על לשוני בושם תבלין של אם,
הולכת הביתה.
רגל יחפה על מרפסת, אמת עירומה נשקפת
ריח מתוק של פרי תאווה, חיוכים עבריים מעקצצים
נהימת אוטובוס, צהוב מנצנץ מבין פסי מעבר חצייה,
רדיו מקווה לשינוי, כמה רבים אליך הגעגועים ?
הולכת הביתה
home
July 27, 2009 at 9:47 pm (encounters, me, personal, poems, questions, thoughts, wishes, writing)
Tags: home, life, me, passion fruit, personal, poems, thoughts, truth, writing
Chocolate thoughts and Rosmarin Breath,
cradle of hopes, swinging old chair.
smell of warm skin, sweaty piece of hair,
salty drop on my tongue, mothers spicy perfume,
I’m going home.
a bare foot on the porch, naked truth from the mirror
sweet scent of passion-fruit, tingling Hebrew smiles,
rattle of a bus, yellow glistening on the crossroad
radio hoping for change, how much I miss you?
I’m going home.
random
July 26, 2009 at 9:17 am (encounters, me, personal, thoughts, writing)
Tags: life, mistress of spices, personal, random, thoughts, writing
I just realized this morning that I only really truly was inlove with people I met randomly. weather in a family occasion or bumping into in a chaotic lecture, online or in the grocery store. randomly I fell inlove with myself as well one morning when I met my thoughts in a book (randomly picked in an airport store around 10 years ago of a woman who reflected me love and talent writing about women , spices and Life. I felt that those words written with such talent , not only encourage me to write my own but that smelling the stories I am feeling the power to go through these life with my hard choices too. I read many books before, some shaped my opinions, some planted great ideas in my head. but I think this book was the first one to bond my fears with my hopes and thus really like the person who stands there in the mirror. I wish to meet Chitra banergee divakaruni one day to say thank you. I think as a gesture of gratitude Ill hand her a bi g box of chocolate from my favorite shop next to my mother spice cookies wrapped together in a big wooden box I saw in a street market in Greenwich
http://www.sawnet.org/books/reviews.php?The+Mistress+of+Spices
mistress of letters
July 24, 2009 at 5:32 pm (encounters, prose, questions, thoughts, writing)
Tags: accents, blogging, bruno, cambridge, films, life, london, me, personal, writing
The audience asked and so Im taking a turn from my oh so depressing and personal encounters to the warm embrace of a normal blogging
what is normal blogging ?
writing my opinions on current affairs my affairs and witty and spicy articles one is bumping into while surfing the net
can I do it in English ? interesting and amusing enough to hold an audience of readers ? . that would be a challenge as my small audience, already tired of my impossible love life, surly deserves more. doing blogging in Hebrew for quite a while I know that it takes time, developing unique style and putting the statements in short witty and heart warming words is something that develops gradually. if Ill be patient it will happen faster. its this impossible thing with patience, teaching you a great lesson once you’re brave enough to accept it as a teacher.
my fears? that I wont be able to bring that emotion again that I can only bring in my own mother tongue. managed to do it in the short secrets I shared with you so far. not so sure I can do that yet with those English demanding rules. but I dare . myself and you to read me with comfort and to realize. English language can still learn a few new curves these days that most of London is less and less British, and the language I hear in the street is not always the English I hear in your living room on that deep leather sofa.
don’t get me wrong I adore that English. but my writing always came from other places. from my ears, from the stories I hear and see in tube encounters. I admit, my writing comes from the people, as If I had been crowned by the crowed to be their queen of prose.
well I am more likely be the mistress of letters until Ill get the ok to be more. most of my writing comes from my heart, impatient , un censored and fluently written as my hand clicks the digits of the keyboard. (mostly I end up writing completely different things than those I planed in the first place)
but what am i saying really? where is the blogging part of the opinions or things I have to say something about? here! today I had a few issues to deal with. issue pronounced with sh and not ss sound like the Americans and not like u English people. I do have a problem with that so lets make it my first opinion.
accents. I have a problem with it. OK not a problem, I have something to say about it. I mostly like to hear foreign people talk English as they seem to look at the word and make it their own. they read it as it spelled(make sense) they forget about the laws of English, and they create a charming new language that is a lot more authentic for my everyday reality than that English of Cambridge professors. Yes I know one who may read me that comes from that particular institute feels a bit uncomfortable with me right now , ready to answer back if I even deserve an answer and wonder why on earth I had to choose this issue to be the first one to be dealt with. and so relax, I don say I don’t like to hear you talking. I am actually delighted every time you open your mouth and softly the words are sailing from your throat to this enchanting place you and a few more belong to. in between old break houses scattered in wide fields with old walls and even older trees. that English of yours makes me wish to be born to a woman with a milky skin who while breastfeeding me reads Shakespeare and watch Stephen fry.
but here in London most people are not you. they had been fed by a very similar milk but listen to different tunes, to exotic writers or the local Mohazin . some heard the rumbling wheels of rikcha and its drivers steps, shouting to the crowed to clear him a path while driving in an old market mew. some were born in a European big metropolis who pronouns the s like z and the w like v and the d like t and even when reading Austen and Bronte.
and I like that . I like that impossible mumble of accents when I walk in London. its more real to me and evident obviously as its where I live. to your Cambridge I can escape when invited or when you kindly read me your stories expecting nothing but my sweet admiration.
and so what about the Americans. ok I do not like their accent , that’s just their way to annoy the world for being so negative about them . Ill have to write here one day about the American lady who set with me in a tram in Rome talking about 200 kinds of gelato , a trip that by the end of it i hated Americans and Gelato. finally I like Russians talking Hebrew, I like Germans talking french and Italians talking English. that I have here in London more than anywhere else. Ill miss that one day
and any other issues of today’s current affairs for instance. ok I don’t know how to respond to the fact that rabbis in America had been found suspect of selling organs. I read those who suspect yet another blood plot is being planned by the obviously antisemitic Obama. to that nonsense I do not even want to reply, as ignorance makes me bad writer in every language.
so the news that Ill pick randomly from the headlines of eonline. my favorite news as the world is harsh an d I like to escape there .
http://uk.eonline.com/uberblog/b135782_fans_look_bruumlno_in_austria_hes_in.html
Yes i had seen the film. laughed at the right places, scratched myself at the wrong places and mostly wondered about the length of Brunos….legs.
and I have a few things to say about him
1. yes of course Im proud he is one of us, the Jewish community. he got tickets to his Israeli relatives on the premier in Tel Aviv
2. hes a great actor, combining slapstick, drama and dirty thoughts.
3. austria never was so attractive since the jolly days of Cafe Zacher
4. the scene of the mili vanili seance encouraged me while thinking of the next world and death.
5. finally someone says all the wrong but right things about the Hollywood royalty and so deserves an oscar himself or at list a square on that famous boardwalk
6. Im really curious about his next alter ego and maybe I can offer him to play a woman?
7. it took god to create the world in 7 days ? I wonder what Bruno had to say about that and everythign else he would like to say about god and religion
as I have to rush to the synagogue of Rabbi Hulbert I think it is time to end these kind thoughts and go Iron my shabbat words for his liberal congregation.
Shabbat Shalom
even not
July 21, 2009 at 5:38 pm (encounters, questions, thoughts, writing)
Tags: eve, heart, love, thoughts, writing
Even not Eve could Even
your emotions
they are too stubborn to find true love.
rather
July 17, 2009 at 9:13 am (me, personal, questions, thoughts, wishes, writing)
Tags: fall, heart, hope, life, memories, personal, writing
I think I am not going to be at your service this year. I never really liked it and I know you are by now if smelling our intentions sneeze with disapproval.
Yes, I say it for the last 3 years every time August arrives and your birth date and death date become to close to avoid the service thoughts. thoughts I rather keep in a very deep drawer covered with all my moaning words to you for the past 7 years.
but this year I feel braver, healthier , ready to close the last stitch over the wound that doesn’t bubble any more . its not complet yet , that descion, I may go at the last minute because it still scratches there. but if I wont go I know you’ll be the first to congratulate me .
anyway I rather sip some wine in Pallazuolo or Paris with a european smoky breeze that carries your name every lingering fall.
red
July 16, 2009 at 2:27 pm (encounters, personal, poems, thoughts, wishes)
Tags: friends, life, lunch, red, wine
Ive had a glass of red wine in the middle of the day at the parade place down the road
the house wine. it was young and fun and promising
at night when we drink it slowly through conversation, the fumes of alcohol are spread enough so I am not telling you all my thoughts
now , after a nice lunch I just feel that my eyes are dropping , my heart is floating and Im craving for your hand.
the eyes to follow.
to learn your lips finally.
I like red wine.
Adam And Eve
July 12, 2009 at 9:37 pm (encounters, me, personal, questions, thoughts, wishes, writing)
Tags: apples, fmily, heart, love, mother, personal, thoughts, ties, trees, writing
we stood there next to the apple tree. your mother said it has very small and hard apples. stubborn like you, but good for cooking. its thin body was torn from the muddy land of Neuss. too many days of rain turned the earth intolerant to its own children. you offered to fix it. I wanted to help, a proper gesture I can give you for this visit is to try to heal this tree. I suggested to try digging the land and build new crutches to its fainting body. you denied my offer while we picked him from the ground, arms tangled. you said you want to tie him from its upper part to the close fence , so the new roots will grow and make a stronger natural hold again. I thought it was strange to grow backwards. but I accepted, there is some logic in helping him to help itself and=2 0anyway you’re the engineer of this family, after many generation of doctors and healers. your mother joined us while both of us holding the tree ,she grasped its heavy brunches full of those small hard apples who didn’t trust our grip. with her strong arms and wise eyes she said in German she hope it will hold the next flood. I saw her eyes while looking at you, her elder son, proud and handsome like his father. you took metal wires to lift its arms back into the air, drilling holes in the fence and making a strong metal knot to hold many winters. ( i thought it will be better than a wet string). you smiled at me when it stood back all proud and tall next to your lean figure of his savior, both women looking at you with adoring eyes.
your mother promissed to take care of his legs too when the sun will come out. youre eyes were deeper than the sky when I picked a rotten apple to throw from our healing friend. I just need to wipe my hands from the muddy dirt and hug you both while the lost sun of Neuss went out of the clouds again
accurate
July 8, 2009 at 11:38 pm (encounters, questions, thoughts, writing)
Tags: memories, personal, thoughts, writing
you are the second most talented man I have ever met in my life.
but I was biased with the first one so I may be wrong
act
July 8, 2009 at 10:32 am (encounters, me, personal, poems, thoughts)
Tags: act, heart, love, personal, thoughts, writing
an act of love.
last grasp of a hand
before the shake of the heart
and the twich of a lash
dropping a tear on my naked skin
July 7, 2009 at 10:01 pm (encounters, me, personal, questions, thoughts, wishes, writing)
Tags: french, paris, personal, real estate, thoughts, train, writing
the summer brought us the greatest love of all
leaning on the window shield of a slowly moving train
the woman with black straight hair lifted her swede bag
to the compartment above her silky head.
dropping little drops of sweat I noticed her lust
wishing her to tell me her secrets and which shampoo shes using.
the man sitting behind me chatted nonchalantly with an American dude,
his accent couldn’t keep me away fro m stereotype, judging and non patience,
but their conversation eased my harsh thoughts, my ears lurked to those words of love.
they discussed a woman
a young lady whos had a glass of wine next to the American
dude and his wife i n a small cafe in monparnass.
the fumes of french rouge vin and provance perfume
mixed the story to a delicious evening
bringing a comforting together to strangers
in a lonely metropolitan.
after a short conversation about weather,
an amazing weekend of sun and hope,
they became like friends who knew each other for many years
and they the American couple will buy a house from the french lady
as not only shes charming
but also deals with real estate.
I wondered how real it is that complete strangers become such
good friends ?
but than again. I had fallen in love with you again
in the depth of the same heat,
and a glass of red wine.