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 Jan 2017 Alasiri T
phil roberts
Wistfully
Wishfully
My daydream drift
Takes me eye to eye
And hand in hand
On a sunny morning
Somewhere
Settling dust
Step by step
And side by side
There's a tide close by
Responding to gravity
And gravity of sorts
Draws our souls
Fatefully
Inevitably
Together

                     By Phil Roberts
I never hear them when they speak
only hours later
in the painfully lit basement of my home
with earphones and patience
do their words reach me
such was the case last October
I was driving through Wilderness, Virginia
for the first time and happened to pass
Saunders Field and caught sight of the plaque
that stood at the bottom of the hill
and a trail that led into the woods
where the fierce skirmishes took place
it was a bit chilly and windy
and the road nearby was busy with passing cars
not an ideal place for an EVP session
but I felt compelled to try
and walked the edge of the woods
then a short portion of the trail
I asked many questions directly to anyone
who may be listening
'How many souls perished here?'
'Are you one of those souls?'
'Did you suffer?'
'Why do you stay or visit this place?'
as usual, I heard no voices during the 18 minutes
of questioning
however, the presence was undeniable
I was not alone here
this I knew
on the way back down the hill to leave
I reached out one final time;
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now'
again I heard nothing, turned the recorder off
and departed

it was several days before I could return home
and review my recording
but my curiosity as always
grew stronger the longer I had to wait
I was disappointed as I began to listen
nothing heard as each minute passed
only the whisper of wind and cars
until I came to my final question in those last moments...
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now.'

'Leave me under the ground........human'
I have been spirit seeking for about 3 years now after an experience with a spirit that completely hooked me on this phenomenon. I own numerous evp's and video recordings and will continue and increase my participation in this field upon my retirement later this year.
 Jan 2017 Alasiri T
Nat Lipstadt
Yom Kippur this year was celebrated on Oct. 12th 2016.
Leonard Cohen passed away on November 7, 2016.


~~~

faint knocking at the door to the Tower of Song

the ministering angels, hearing a rhythmic, lyrical rapping,
sigh, thinking the atonement day,
the holiday/holy days, are supposedly over,
the human balancing act, the rush to judgement period,
all tallies totaled, the busy sale season for souls,
at last completed, each fate inscribed & sealed,
in the book of life^

but, always one,
the itinerant straggler, the last reluctant sinner, a judgment resister,
flaunting an expired coupon, trumpeting demands for a recount,
waving it, claiming it, the bearer, entitled to a mercy discount and
an extra 30 days

"who shall we say is calling?"

the Angels are stunned to hear,
a familiar raspy, growling, almost indescribable,
yet, stammeringly, beautiful voice enchanting,
equally asking and answering,  how both,
with a strident humility, "a man in search of answers"

this voice, instantaneous recognizable,
the asking superfluous,
all beating wings now, all in vast excitement,
this psalmist, long awaited, one of His best,
a chosen one, a courtly singer in the Temple of his people,
blessed with the curse of seeing and believing,
the comprehension of beauty of the human superior interior,
never being quiet or quite satisfied,
in capturing, its multifarious variations,
in every language spoken

this is the man who took ten years
to compose just
one song,
one poem,
one word,
Hallelujah,
whose faith was strong,
but still needed proofs,
whose every breath of oxygen inhalation,
brought more questions,
every exhalation, only releasing partial answers,
and yet, still, yes, yes! finding hidden verses inside

a simple, everlasting
hallelujah

the hubbub subsides, the man sings~speaks:
how came I here,
was I one, who by fire?
that fire afeared,  that my finality was spirit consumer?

one voice, answers,
in one voice, the swaying back-up singers answer,
not by fire, not by water, not by stoning or
even drowning
in tea that came from all the way from China

when sing we Angels, the Judgement Day poem,
we alone, on high and above,
we, keepers of the books and records of everyone,
are permitted this to query:

Who by Sufficiency?

you, the sidekick of the creator,
special commissioned by him, anointed to live a life of research,
record in word and song the mysteries of musical gene strings,
that intertwine the skin cells of man and woman,
man and his fellow us-human,
your soul commandeered, ordered, delve deeper,
into the consolable chasm tween divine and mortals,
all those who are poorly constructed
in his image

he, who has earned his place, his best rest,
his works adjudged sufficient,
he, who best answered
this judging,
this calling out,
calling in
incantation,

Who by Sufficiency?

now forward on, write only of answers,
wade in the troubled waters no more,
no more passports, or borders to cross,
no more measuring the days,
the last road trip finale
finished & feted,
fate meted

no more changing thy name, changeling priest,^^
sing songs of solution, salvation,
for the questioning hours of confusion,
the urgency of revolution,
no longer need a hallelujah resolution


                                                    ­| | |
Who By Fire                             Who By Fire, Who By Water:^
(lyrics by Leonard Cohen)     (A Yom Kippur Hebrew Prayer)

who by fire                             How many shall die and      

who by water,                                how many shall born,
Who in the sunshine,                 Who shall live      
who in the night time,                   who shall die,                      
Who by high                                Who at the measure of days,
who by common trial,                    and who before,
Who in your merry                            
                                                          Who by fire
month of May,                                 and who by water
Who by very                                 Who by sword,
slow decay,                                       and who by wild beasts,
And who shall I                      Who by hunger,
say is calling?                              and who by thirst,

And who in her,                           Who by earthquake
lonely slip,                                         and who by plague
who by barbiturate,                      Who by strangling,
Who in these                                    and who by stoning
realms of love,                               Who shall have rest,

who by,                                             and who shall go wandering,
something blunt,                            Who will be tranquil,
And who by avalanche,                  and who shall be harassed,
who by powder,                            Who shall be at ease,
Who for his greed,                           and who shall be afflicted,
who for his hunger,                      Who shall become rich,
And who shall I,                             and who shall become poor,
say is calling?                                Who will be raised high,
                                                         ­     and who will be brought low
And who by brave assent,                  
who by accident,
Who in solitude,
who in this mirror,
Who by,
his lady's command,
who by his own hand,
Who in mortal chains,
who in power,
And who shall I,
say is calling?




^From the liturgy of Rosh Hasanah, the Jewish New Year and Yom Kippur, the  Day of Atonement, there is this truly stunning prayer (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unetanneh_Tokef) in the Jewish liturgy. The Book of Life contents the fate of every sinner. From the first day of the new year, until ten days later, on Yom Kippur, depending on whether the sinner repents or not, his fate is sealed.
Yom Kippur this year was celebrated on Oct. 12th 2016.

Leonard Cohen passed away on November 7, 2016.

^^"A Kohens ancestors were priests in the Temple of Jerusalem. A single such priest was known as a Kohen, and the hereditary caste descending from these priests is collectively known as the Kohanim.[2] As multiple languages were acquired through the Jewish diaspora, the surname acquired many variations." Today, with no temple, the limited role of the Kohanim is to bless the Jewish people on the high holy days with a  special prayer with abeloved tune,  instantly evocative (see wikipedia.org/wiki/Priestly_Blessing) The Kohanim are still revered, honored, and always called up first to the Sabbath reading of the weekly portion of the Old Testament

A thank you to Bex for proofing and encouragement.
Part I of a trilogy
For a  more detailed analysis of the roots of the song, "Who By Fire," and its origins, see:
_____________________________________________
http://www.leonardcohen-prologues.com/who_by_fire.htm

He worked on the song Hallelujah, arguably his most famous composition, for ten years.
Here's ten good things about myself....okay? THIS IS ANDY'S CHALLENGE!
1-I put others well-being before my own.
2- I try to help others be happy.
3-I would put anybody before myself.
4-I think that i am sort of pretty...
5-I'm creative with interior design
6-im not completely horrible at singing
7- im a survivor
8-i stopped abusing substances
9-i want to help others with their problems
10- im a good friend
Start of 2017 right.
The horizon lies asleep in a grey blanket
In a sea of myriad figures,
And an unimaginable silhouette.
The engineering of black feathers,
Sets ablaze hazy azure weathers.
The Art Decorates Towers,
Like giants with arms outstretched,
Look down commanding superiority
Over the volatile beauty of the wretched.

Who branded this Pandora’s Box to be garbage?
Stop turning your faces away
Like this is some butchery,
Or an abhorable carnage.
The dogs have repeatedly protested against the injustice
The heavy wind suppresses their voices and entices
A seduction of inarticulate silence.
Brothers who embrace us,
Have known nothing of such malices’.

Only the birds are left unenchanted;
Because they fly too high to be pervaded.
I hear children’s voices
And mothers’ too,
And taste the flies and insects,
And all the devils they shoo;
Because they understand not the complexities of a civilization,
They have never rendered their thoughts,
Never undergone no filtration.
The unconquerable spirit of this world,
Has made them savage,
Their claws curled.
In the heat, in the light,
In the plight
Which brings the cold night.

The sunlight here is too dense to penetrate,
Therefore it unabashedly spills over,
No opening,
Just a gateless emptiness on which to concentrate,
Lives and lives here,
Forever proliferate.
With none to remember their faces,
And no mortal soul to commemorate.

Dust settles upon the fingertips which talk.
This place is deemed unfit,
Unsuitable for a walk.
Yet birds, animals and humans alike,
Have stated their preference of what they like.
This land is perpetually theirs to ****.
Passion resides here,
In this unintended landfill.
This poem is based on the encroachment of spaces by informal settlements. This is also a testament to how the organisms which by virtue of their illegitimate occupation transmute themselves into rightful owners of space.
 Jan 2017 Alasiri T
L Seagull
Feeling it with every fiber
Existence and emotion
Calling to escape through vibrations flowing
From your heart and through your mouth
Unnecessary... defend... keep this tender reality
Where it won't be offended
Boundary and self-respect
Must find each other somewhere
On the pages of this year's calendar
Resolution for next New Year's Eve - no mushrooms in the club! Way too raw
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