Dan Shalev

Dan Shalev Feb 2017

When?

When does a man realize that having taken the road least travelled was,
perhaps,
the least favorable action to take?

When does a man realize his mistakes are beyond fixing?

When does a man fully appreciate the gravity of his actions?

Too late, I wonder?
Too late, I believe.

Feb 2017

Walt Whitman

O Captain! My Captain!

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Dan Shalev Feb 2017

A Brief Moment of Freedom

The hot July sun had managed to blind her,
the wind struck her face, carrying the ocean's salt with it,
coupled with some white sand from the Andaman's ethereal beaches.

She was free at that very moment, seated on the back of that scooter,
without a care in the world, riding out into the horizon.

With nature to her left and the Andaman to her right she was free.
Allowing herself to let go of him and throw her hands up in the air she screamed,
freedom!

She tried to pursue that feeling ever since, often to no avail.
But it matters not for, at that moment, she knew true freedom,
seated on the back of that scooter, on that hot July afternoon.
She was free.

Dan Shalev Feb 2017

Delirium

His mind, weakened by fatigue and liquor, gave in to
the soothing, progressive rhythms of the music he lost himself in.

His ache, amplified by the bass, paralyzed him.

His sorrows, strengthened by the piercing melodies,
broke him.

Delirium had consumed him, and life had won again

Dan Shalev Feb 2017

Wrongdoing

My heart trembled immorally as she undressed.
While slowly removing her stockings she smiled,
and foxily met my haunted, bewitched gaze.

"Isn't this your dream?", she seductively inquired.
Reckoning with my wicked sin I unwillingly yielded.

Lust had consumed us both, corrupting us.
Entranced she fell into my arms, moaning.

"I can't", teary-eyed I objected to no avail.
Stunned and dismayed she gathered her resentful self.
"I thought you wanted me", she objected.

I can't, couldn't, and wouldn't.
Could you?

Dan Shalev Feb 2017

Dubiety

We live life in the fast lane,
trading our privacy for a false sense of social interaction.
We maintain online personas that mask our true identities,
projecting our idea of a perfect life onto the virtual world,
hoping it, in return, would rain accolades upon us.

Dubiety lurks in the shadows, visitng us in our dreams,
feeds off of our fears and struggles.
Latching unshakeably onto our consciousness,
dubiety carves its way into our very heart,
corrupting, destroying.

Carpe diem, you'd often hear from
the fools who live in the now,
and the blind who possess neither a future,
nor a past worth recalling.

Dubiety, the not knowing, the uncertainty,
the fear of failure, the lack of guarantees.
Leap of faith? Perhaps such leap is what we all need.
I know it's what I do.

Dan Shalev Feb 2017

She Is No More

I wrap my hands around her, and whisper words of love.
I promise what I cannot, and vow to return, and to love still, and always.
We gaze at the horizon, our feet in the water.

"Will you come back?", she asks sheepishly.

There before me stands my lady, as beautiful as I have ever seen her.
In fear and trepidation, I say "I will", and she grins, and then sheds a tear.

She knows this to be the last time, but she does not mind.
She lives in the ever so brief moment, escapes my grasp, and marches.

She marches, and she is no more.