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Nat Lipstadt Apr 28
“but you Nat,
are a grown *** Hebrew man
so I shall not attempt 
to advise you to do otherwise.”

<>
been notified, identified, blessed and cursed, alotta of different ways,
but late at night, arrives a new coronation forthright,
about my all grownup ageist stay-tus & my ancient birthright

and I’m-athinking that as compliments go, that’s quite a
right-on complementary to my actuality, so not bad, tho
all-I’d-add is maybe, old school fool too, & do appreciate

that this observation comes with added cherry on top,
I’m finally old enough to make it ok to make mistakes,
and a hardy thanks that the words hard and lard din’t appear

when mentioning my cheekiest feature...

10:28pm nyc
in downtown lockdown
ConnectHook Apr 27
Mammonite pretender, see the Khazar:
Out of place in the Biblical bazaar;
Fattening his financial calf of gold
Maintaining clueless goyim bought and sold
.

Abram the nomad mixed milk with his meat
Walked the Fertile Crescent on his own feet;
Summoned from the Chaldees, uncircumcised
Long before that temple was realized.
From Babylon to Egypt, passing through,
Jerusalem came briefly into view.
He lived. He walked right out of the Archaic
To shatter every legalist’s mosaic.
Beholding now God’s current Middle East,
(Collective funeral more than wedding feast)
The Bedouin seem to model more the way:
hospitable intents at close of day.

Four hundred years would pass before they saw
That wilderness of Sinai and the Law;
Commandments Moses knew could never save.
We judge them by accounts their Torah gave:
Twelve generations later . . . what a joke.
The righteousness consumed in holy smoke
As Israel descended, worse than Cain,
to civil wars on *****’s fruitless plain.
In Judges we behold the steep descent
Read well the signs. Be warned—and then repent.
A scene for every Judaistic dream:
Depravity is worse than it may seem.
Your concubine, dismembered at your door,
May light the shortened fuse of civil war.
He aquí la Santa Muerte. Adórala:
https://connecthook.net/2020/04/27/abram-the-hebrew/
After My Death
by Chaim Nachman Bialik
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Say this when you eulogize me:
Here was a man — now, ****, he's gone!
He died before his time.
The music of his life suddenly ground to a halt...
Such a pity! There was another song in him, somewhere,
but now it's been lost,
forever.
What a pity! He had a violin,
a living, eloquent soul
to which he uttered
the secrets of his heart,
setting its strings vibrating,
save the one he kept inviolate.
Back and forth his supple fingers twirled;
one string alone remained mesmerized,
yet unheard.
Such a pity!
All his life the string quivered,
quavering silently,
yearning for its song, its mate,
as a heart falters before its departure.
Despite constant delays it waited daily,
mutely beseeching its savior, Love,
who lingered, loitered, tarried incessantly
and never came.
Great was the pain!
There was a man — now, ****, he's gone!
The music of his life was suddenly interrupted.
There was another song in him, somewhere,
but now it is lost
forever.

Chaim Nachman Bialik (1873-1934), first name also Hayim or Haim, was a Jewish Holocaust poet who wrote in Hebrew. Bialik was one of the pioneers of modern Hebrew poetry; he came to be recognized as Israel's national poet and the foremost modern Hebrew poet.

Keywords/Tags: Chaim Nachman Bialik, Hebrew, translation, Israel, life, music, violin, song, string, strings, heart, mate, love, pain, lost, forever
AceLione Feb 26
Demons of Fire and Angels of Light
Are Demons wrong and Angels right?
You shan't know if their hearts are corrupt
Still people wait for the unsure rapture
Humans, let us live with sins and graces
Because Angels and Demons can have 2 or more faces
...
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2018
The Hebrew King David sings it once
everyone tunes in as if he stopped the time
it's a song sang in every mother tongue!

It's a sea of tunes flows on the shore of the body
outpours and dances fashioning in both science and art
waxes through every vein and reaches out to the heart.

Folks love to take a dip in this same mellifluent cloud
but it's as varied as all the different mother tongues,
the one rhymes with all floats across the world.
Over all the different rivers that may zigzag
It knows the way because from the ocean they all come.
Martin Narrod Jul 2018
Flits of crepuscular longing across the simoom in the night. For with samiel at the helm, all hell will take us for sloth. Firstly, a schism overtakes the wind, backsliding the doorstep of Lucifer’s kin. Keep an eye on the door’s of ewes. The child angered by sky will surely lust for the hedonists imbue. Then the rattle shakes, pelting trunks of lye, chafing the goons of the dawn and choking from the ***** in our young. Aristotle bakes yore, and relief takes the pen, until the quietness of the impala becomes transfixed by our brethren. Then sores take the skin by trial. Eagerly rushing towards the venomous trails, and only then does the bandit bemoan the pain. Only then will the hungered and hungry peel back their fingers for fare, there where the flocks lay in wait and in pairs. Here where the melancholy of revenge, fills our quivers with children’s tears. Only then do we make haste for the shade, otherwise the sun will cook our hides to the colors of the day, then we will lay quiet too. Maybe then we’ll be overtaken by the Xombie Moon.
Derrick Feinman Dec 2016
الله أكبر
ברוך אתה הי
Reveal yourself, please
Steve Sep 2016
Moses liked a cup of tea
He brewed it skilfully

© Copyright SE September 2016
Is really true!
King Tutankhamun Jun 2016
Let her take control over your mind
She full of happiness no thoughts of suicide
Or homocide
Which shed on the earth since my birth
I got no worth held on to then what i thought was girth
Asking myself? What am i living for?
And why must i chase the dough and remain *******?
Its just an image that blemishes
Use her as my cleansing as she replenishes
My mind body and soul then she grabs control
Take over so i feel superior and bold
She has no silence beautiful & dangerous to all her rivals
Demons cant even see her her sight
Is more beautiful than an early sunrise
Uprise
I think about her night and day
Til the day that i die looked in her eyes
She got me hypnotize as i rise
She told me to just keep it a surprise most won't realize
What's going on? down and under sound the thunder
She makes rain drops with no clouds in sight
Shes not profain shes not a dame
She uses parables to explain
Her intellectual frame faceless
But i feel her presence
Everywhere i go she's there so prepare
For the ultimate lesson put down my smith n wesson
Light up my incense for a smoke session blessin'
Fall down out of the heavens
Then all of a sudden i get a flash
Picture perfect like Van Gogh
Midnight summer dream no longer chasing the cream
Im all about wisdom cuz its seats
Higher than gold and silver
For they nothing but clay and sand
Made by mans hands stand
All alone on the battelfield
Shedding my tears for my comrades who aint here i fear
None but the Most High the closer i get the more he mutiplies
Her to my mental state of mind as i shine
Brighter than sun everyone
Look at me like an italian don an enemy on the run?
Dont care who feels this or dismiss this
Ya cant deny her existence
She'll be there to ride for you die for you
If only you treat her like you suppose too
I been touched spiritually since i was kid
Didn't understand the wages of sin until i took a bid forbid
Once i partaked in the garden of eden
Original mark of sin before she entered in
Instincts was her game
But we always choose pride and our own fame the game
Is designed for them to win
She might not give your earthly riches
But ya mind will be healthy and wealthy
For the Most High say don't be like the critters of earth
For they boast in secrecy and wickedness
Surrounds thee
For the devil aka lucifer was the Most High first rebel
He used to be married to her then divorced by her
Cuz he choose will over living eternally
Sin casted through the heartz of men
Listen to how he speaks verbally
Everything is lost from what was once was gain now all i see is generation dying in vain
Got homosexuals tracing back to the roots of ***** and gemorrah how can you ignore the
Media when they all over your face she braille the darkness for me
So i can light up my trace
Path of righteousness leads you alone
But if you take the path of darkness
Ya get alot following demons swallowin'
Every march of ya footsteps
Crazy! how this world loves God
So much
But it makes sense cuz "god" switched around is "dog"
Short for dogma im speakin marxism and communism
And all those locked in a spiritual prison
Wake up before it's too late she could make mountains shakes once she awakes
She doesnt hesitate
To those who wanna learned ya might get burned for telling the truth
See all these stage events
That's a sign of repent
No remorse when i see sinful corpses
No hate in my heart she wont let me part
Of her ways
She even shown me brighter days even though it was a cloudy day
Hold on steadifast cuz she only.will last
To those who choose right over wrong
This ain't a song they say in wrong
But im right so please listen to me before death angels sound the gong and we long gone
Killuminati Veteran Lives KillEvil LiveLlik
Martin Narrod Feb 2016
Use
Inside of the room where we smoke and draw pretty things in ink
I wrap my arm under your arm, and call our bodies into hug
I put my neck over your neck, you are the cheetah cub I am the fawn
How many rains old are you? No, how many droughts old are you?
I carry spirit sharks I've never seen inside my skinny legs. My hide is
Built of rhinoceros hearts and truth.

I have lived in webs, lived in dens, lived in bars and you. Your hair smells
Like freedom, marriage, and youth. I want to be osmosis where the cells Collide and contribute, even the physicist's are confused. What kind of Bird are you? I said what kind of bird are you?

I've been in the room with the garbage bags for a roof, dried berry bushes That Ed has eaten bare of fruit.
I want to hear you sing, the stories you carry with you from your youth. My trauma card is punched now, are you carrying the blues.

I have shuffled up, inside the Hebrew dragon gods I have never Understood, how the corduroy grows weary from the use, the cotton Threads they made are sewn and stitched well, so why do they tear on The legs I put them on, my legs are skinless, my pockets worn from Carrying things like a child whose curiosity is overused. I'm free for use, I'm yours for use.
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