Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2016
Selah

~~~

is a word used seventy-four times in the bible.  The meaning of the word is not known, though various interpretations are given below.  It is probably an instruction on the reading of the text, something like *
"stop and listen."  The Amplified Bible translates selah as "pause, and think of that." Alternatively, selah may mean "forever," as it does in some places in the liturgy.  Another interpretation claims that selah comes from the primary Hebrew root word salah, meaning "to hang," and by implication, as in weighing, "to measure"

for Sethnicity
~~~

what trifle these
modern words,
hurled, expelled from the
no country for an old body,
without passport or
earnestness of purpose

the yeah yeah yeah filler
of day tourists who
leave~refuse,
leave their refuse,
never mark-making,
nor even  a mark of
minor distinctions

what mystery valued then in these
olden words,
of which,
there are the fewer than
precious few,
possessing
ineffable, multifarious meanings,
never wasted or with dispassion disgraced

Selah

as a young boy
parentally captive
was POW forced-marched
to synagogue daily,
then weekly,
and now,
free at last,
Oh Lord
free at last,

to go
never

now wanting immunity
for my sins
but asking only from myself
my own forgiveness,
still and well recall the
puzzlingly feeling of

Selah

"forever"
explained the perpetually tired,
older father-man,
"it means forever,"
he who was wearily forever tired from voyaging
and living in a new, stressful,
inhospitable world

carrying in a single suitcase(1)
centuries of the continental drift of
global dispersal diaspora prior,
that cannot be well remembered,
only honored in the
forever recalling

but I disdain the explanation,
as if
"forever"
would satisfy
a ne're satisfied,
irreverent, teenage curiosity

here I am
decades on,
remembering the mysterious

Selah

embracing its many personalities,
endearing now by its revealing opportunities,
and its suitability
in this,
in the the hour of
now me as the
elder father-grandfather

weary-leery,
of a man's age of aging,
the approaching visible runway,
upon which you only land
and never takeoff,
during the phasing out period

and so I reconsider

Selah

and all its variants,
seventy four times

all those elders know too well,
there was never a

forever

so you
stop and listen,
but not to your own heartbeats,
but to tue

poetic lapsing pauses,

the in betweens,
thinking on that
hope for next one Nat

taking your own measure,
the hanging up,
the weighing up
of the always imbalanced
credits and deficits,
accepting the net net
sum of
the totaling up

yet once more,
despite all,
the poet rises,
stands up,
stops to listen,
to give blessing to
you the reader

all poet's
welcomed progeny and prodigy,
hearing your crying hearts,
youngest wishes
and grinding familia of
familiar fears,
expressed so clear
in all your scripts,
pronouncing
over them,
over you


Amen ~ Selah

once again ,
one last time
telling it to God,
or anyone who'll listen,
with fervor

smiling inward
believing even more now
in the olden
specialized mysterious,
powers
of a word
that means
exactly what you meant it
to mean,
when  your say

Selah*

Oct 2, 2015
a poem written and stored away from a sense of
who will get this weary wariness... but I let it go because
it was
selah time

for Sethnicity

(1). he was a Fuller Brush Man
Kelsey Doolittle Nov 2014
Round and Round

Spinning wheels

Like the tops on top

of counter tops

never end

again and again

and suddenly stop

the circle breaks

left to roam

these pieces make

wholeness taste

so puzzlingly

ornate
SamBee May 2016
Red and blue have been blasting through my door
roaring and romping a mighty chorus
stomping through my days
both dying to feel me up
I feel hardy when they love
but they are not mine to keep.

They come to me as scarves and scales
as patches to post over my bodies
and lay
muddy and weak
myself to be seen.
These colors flash secrets of superficiality
savor the feeling of severed psyche
with puzzlingly pieced anatomy.

Blue boiling with my boyhood
my mind over smooth shoulders swells.
I stand beside my dad - his sharp eyes teach me
the game of absorption and receiving.

His eyes trap a moment
hold it up by its collar
(look dad, no hands!)
shake loose
collecting hidden tokens
fiddling,
flipping them in his fingers
a trophy of bladed knowledge.

But my father is color blind.
He does not know which threads to cut
when I plead
*help me detangle
jeffrey robin Mar 2015

                                  


(                              (  
                •                            •
                            )                             )




^^^                                ^^^                  

I really kinda liked this girl....:

(?)

and we were lying naked on the

Bedroom rug

( and )

Well

I just got up

Wrapped a towel around myself

And went into the living room

Sat down on a couch

And started to meditate



She soon came out of the bedroom

Saw me

Gave a look of surprise

Went and got dressed

And left

--

She seemed a bit disgusted

But I felt okay

•••

A little over a year later I saw her again

She was with some beaming young man

And carrying a baby in her arms !



We both started looking at each other

With such immaculate affection

That the young man finally said

WERE YOU 2 LOVERS ?

••

Me and her looked puzzlingly at each other

And then started laughing

//

They then turned to leave

||

She graced me with one last look

Of supreme gratefulness

And was gone

— The End —