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 Sep 2013 Emma B
Mia G
blessing
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Mia G
no,
don't waste time
counting your blessings

count your wonder
because your questions
are the greatest
blessings of all
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Mia G
grandma
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Mia G
The first conversation
I ever had with
my grandma was between
myself and
a sunset

I spoke in
       words a long I had been
       longing to say
She spoke in
      colors and clouds
      
I don't think I heard clearly
but I know I understood what she meant

Her painted message
spoke a message of
love
to the whole world
and her voice echoed in my heart
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Mia G
Labyrinth
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Mia G
A maze serves to get you lost
A labyrinth serves to get you found

I fell into place, and
I don’t know what that means, but
It has something to do with the fact that

I wear hope on a string around my neck, and
I don't remember what it feels like to be fourteen, and
There is just one place in the world where
Something makes sense.

A place where
The sun first hits in the morning, and
Where hope will stay the longest when
All light has gone.

A correction: A labyrinth serves
To allow you to find, and

This morning I realized that
Sometimes I forget how to breathe, and
I am still learning how to dance, but
I keep walking, and
Watching the horizon, and

I know the sun will hit soon
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Nat Lipstadt
I went to a funeral

Of the father of a man,
I liked and respected.

It was a two hour drive,
Each way.
I missed a day of work.

People were impressed.

But the calculation was easy.

Thousands of hours yet to live.

Even if but twenty four, yet to tally,
How many men do I
Know and respect?

Born with two hands,
Would only need one,
To make this calculation.

One is greater than twenty four.
Note to Self: Composed Sept 17th, at Delacorte Theater, Central Park, New York City, Fall for Dance Festival.
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Nat Lipstadt
I lie with you,
But do not lie to you.

I lay with you,
But do not lay you.

I love you.

Should ere death's day dawn come,
When we lie imperfectly alone,
I lay this poem beside you
That our love once and always perfect be,
Even if the body that lies
beside you is no longer me.
Hoping you will never read this till long after I, this world, before you, part.
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Nat Lipstadt
How I Observed the Day of Atonement

If you are unfamiliar with day and its observance,
See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yom_Kippur

In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my creator who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing, none harsher,

We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, adirondacke thrones,
We overlooked,
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded and sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants, the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogos, in this,
Palace of Perfect Solitude.

Amiable did we chat,
I of family, this and that.

He, wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For he had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books.

For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor no defender in residence,
For we exchange these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession.

He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine.

He returned this courtesy.

Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.

A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, he said that he had yet to find
A beverage that his kind of thirst could slake.
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past.

Too much killing, this year,
It tires me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less, if at all.

Thanks for Kol Nidre, he plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.

If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood, undisguised as praying.

A schooner to the dock did appear,
For him it attended, for him, it waited,
Sails, both black and white.

He stood to depart, my arms-grasped, taken, he graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, my strengths, my divinity.

I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet when next we meet, please.

Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.

He, for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting  beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never deception,

Only He resting easy, when he atoned before me,
And I gave him his absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine
September  2013
 Sep 2013 Emma B
marina
permission
 Sep 2013 Emma B
marina
i loved you without
asking first
and i am
so sorry
for
that.
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Emma
I love you more than myself
and you have always
had love
for somebody else
 Sep 2013 Emma B
Nina S
when someone dies
and they have no one to miss them
when the choose to go
or when the world chooses for them
and they have no one to mourn them
it's our job
that's why
some days you feel the despair
the waves of sadness
from the ocean of humanity
far away disturbances of life.
so next time you feel
that urge to tug at your hair
complain on your tumblr
ignore your friends.
the next time you glimpse
the cursed life of the chronically depressed
the forever sad,
be at peace
for there is a soul, somewhere
now at rest.
and you are in mourning for them.
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