#itself
these the words of V.B.
~~~
I have no access
to the billionaires’ research
to make the body live ever longer.
but I do have
what the artist Agam*,
isolated as my heritage’s,
pill of vibrancy, an
in~nate, planted deep,
self funding!
decked with my core genetics,
my DNA,
my imprinted history,
tales of horror and rescue
dating from the middle ages;
this ****** my carat creativity,
knowing very few appreciate
my eclectic, acquired taste,
that simply is to everyone’s
tastes, senses, & sensibility,
to the
right of a little crazy!
this I understand
and debate it not;
but Agam, reminds
of the foundational
who and why my
soul, is only satisfied,
when I can create
new word combinations
it is as if god’s:
comma, dementia of moral commandment
to pray three times daily,
is met, satisfied not in the way
prescribed, but instead,
pro~scribed in my thrice daily
poems aborning, each a
confirming rebirthing inimitable!
even if my voice, lost among in a million voices,
he reminds me, that I am of,
when he recites:
“When I look around at my works, what I see is beyond the pieces themselves,” said Agam. “I turn my head and see something different. Everything changes here. That’s the reality. Reality in other art is set and narrow, and here it isn’t — it’s open, and it changes and brings you closer to seeing the reality of Hebrew and Judaism.”
“Agam wasn’t much of a student and would run away from school to the beach of Rishon Lezion’s dunes, back when the shifting hillocks of sand were a visible part of the landscape.
It was there that Agam noticed how the wind changed the dunes’ shapes, making them look different at all times.
That wind was the source of his inspiration, and he ascribed it to the Torah, saying God created the dunes and humans, who can also create.”
“The reality is what shifts, and that’s to open your thoughts and creativity and understanding and expression of the reality
in another way,”
so got to go forth
and do the summary commandment,
create!
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 11:53 AM UTC
the Sun has broken through
(she cannot be denied for very long)
burning off the sea haar
(she was doing this eons before we were aware)
long before bi-pedal consciousness
even had a clue.
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 7:40 AM UTC
A painting, like a library inside the man who is no more.
Like the mystery of the skilled painter’s brushstrokes.
Emotions put together
like a string of different beads
making a beautiful necklace.
Too heavy the weight to carry.
Every color shedded tears that gives a man his posture.
Walking or standing still.
Look and hear
the joy of laughter, the cry in pain.
See the happiness in flowers faces.
In a true lovers game.
Like the last breath of broken men
feel the final brushstroke of the fading waves of endless sea.
There are as many worlds as there are people.
When one man dies we lose a library of untold stories.
To know a man look at the finished painting
Feel a life, lived.
Shell✨🐚
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 6:14 AM UTC
my mind has collapsed
upon itself
here is now
Sep 15, 2024
Sep 15, 2024 at 7:37 PM UTC
The arrow endures
The bow string's tension
So that in the release
It can become
More than itself
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 4:04 PM UTC
Talking about our feelings
Can benefit our mental health
And, with that in mind, I'd like to say;
Anxiety can **** itself.
It sneaks up like a ninja;
It knows the art of stealth,
But I have to teach it new things;
Like how to go and **** itself.
It bothers me with social stuff,
It screams about my wealth,
Until I can simply take no more,
And scream right back; "Go **** yourself!"
It's a nasty little demon!
It's a horrid little elf!
It's the thing I hate the most,
And it needs to go and **** itself.
Yes- talking about our feelings
Can benefit our mental health,
And, with that in mind, I'd like to say;
"Anxiety can **** itself!"
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 4:47 PM UTC
I was killing myself from the inside
Once it overflowed to the surface
It bled through my wrists
I had told my body to hate itself
So it tried to drain itself
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 10:38 PM UTC
We'll be ok
There's smoke
The skin burns
We'll be ok
There's a voice raving
The words burn
We'll be ok
Boots are marching
The elderly roll six feet under
We'll be ok
They wonder: why did you forget?
We didn't forget war we wanted it
We'll be ok
He raves
War war war war war war
We'll be ok
The boots march in tandem
And disappear
We'll be ok
The elderly roll six feet under
They wonder: Didn't we fight for your peace?
We'll be ok
We didn't forget war, we wanted it
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 3:17 AM UTC
Life is tough, but even
In the darkest of times you can
Find some good.
Everyday you'll find some good left.
In the darkest hour, in
The middle of the night--
Sleepless and thinking--
Each day is a new chance to
Live and
Find the good in the world.
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 10:18 PM UTC
Tricks and higher education,
Training and development,
I let artificial intelligence,
The Android A.I. system,
Suggest me words and phrases,
In an experiment where I am,
Letting the poem write itself.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 3:03 AM UTC
If soldiers ride under the flag of someone else's dawn
what choice do we have but to march right on?
So he says, "Just like god I never meant to be,
and just like time you'll never know the end of me"
"Your answers lay in the middle of an enclosed glen
I wonder if you dared to step right in"
He says, "Just like god I never meant to be,
and just like time you'll never know the end of me"
Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 1:41 AM UTC
A poor heart is one which finds
No companion
Along the way of life.
A poor person is one which cuts
Another onion
Seeking just to weep.
A poor soul is one which haunts
No one else
But only & only itself.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 2:06 PM UTC
Sometimes fear stems from not understanding
Blame is but a gift in a hateful society
Lack of encouragement leads many astray
The river streams in one direction
But forces some to struggle against the current.
How does one break out of line-
if it is enforced with barbwire?
Embrace the injures life inflicts and
rush through stomping on brittle pavement.
Ignore the trembles in your chest cavity and brave a smile
Negativity surrounds you like an endless sea,
but divert your gaze to brighter portions of the sky.
Fear is another form of ignorance,
only if allowed to cloak judgment.
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
My head is a warzone in itself.
Sometimes there's no victors.
Sometimes there is.
I hate to convince myself that i must confide
A amoeba that's restricting me so i can abide
There's no true purpose in where i hide
And taking unnecessary sides
I just want something tasty on my side
Nothing too dazzling
But that's exactly how i describe myself
And i want to run it away
Not so it can come back another day
I tend to be vociferous
And it irritates me
Why can i have a mind that entices the thought and not berate it?
I feel disjointed, jaded
Far from elated
Somehow my reinforcements become instant vaporization
Nothing adds up to a stimulation
What was i put here for?
To quarrel, to entrench myself with misery?
I need something to distract
Keep me in humble tact
Busy
As a bee
But i don't want to sting
Or the frivolous bling
Why can't i figure it out?
Nobody can for me
As easy as that pleases the ear
I must adhere
To my own belligerent madness
And find some sanity in it
It's a unembellishing feeling.
Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 4:27 AM UTC
He stabbed me in the back
And **** ***** me.
A lover?
No. Love itself.
-- Eleanor
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:49 PM UTC