On Reflexion I have decided to buy that new Mirror!

Do you want a slice of cake,
might keep you going just for now.
But as you are not used to eating,
you have the hooves we'll keep the cow.

The modern world is dying younger,
unlike those in the poorer east.
Who die through lack of food and water,
we're dying because we're obese.

In this modern city arena,
it seems our portion is the more
free health and overwhelming safety
but we save that small slice for the poor.

The waste is massive, over burdened,
tons of food are chucked away.
As we stick to our sell by clearance
just think for what so many pray.

Do we need such a massive slice,
even half would fill our needs.
The west gets fat the east is wanting
scrubbing around for scraps and seeds.

So next time when feasting in McDonalds,
and washing down with large milkshake.
Try and see your own reflexion
and you'll see whom eats all the cake.

Before you leave that busy food-hall,
just have a quick look in the bin
and you will see the unholy waste,
perhaps you'll also see the sin.

The slicing of this planets cake  
seems to be divided wrong.
So cut it into a fairer slices
and send it to where it belongs.

She always burned her
Barbie dolls after she cut
All the hair of that plastic,
Magic perfect blonde ****

She was 11 and had just
Always hated how all
Her family and friends kept
On giving her a doll

That was perfect and had all
And she just couldn't see
The relevance and the elephant
In the room is insecurity

So at 11 she Cant see what she is
but what she is not
her imperfections made her check
If Barbies got what she got

But Barbie did not barbies
perky with both ***** and ****
Her legs don't grow hair
And she don't need cover up

And her short legs look
Nothing like barbies do
Even her *** and
Thighs are all proportioned too

Fit her spectacular body's frame
that frames her reflexion
with the blame to detain
what remained as complexion

Of her oily pimpled skin that
Is too fair and needs a tan
And living up to all that not to
Mention a corvette and a man

That's why Barbie hangs across
Her closet where her mom
Saw the Barbie dolls She hung
by the neck yelling what's wrong

butShe just masks how she
felt so a head doctor was
a psychiatrist who sighed
A bit but had sided with her cause

She was an ugly duckling herself
That Never grew to be pretty
But the city has no pitty for no
Pretty so best you be witty

And told her to keep with the
hate she now held for Barbie
and before She left the doctor said
**** a corvette get a Ferrari

So She left happy but hardly
Cured of her obsession
Over beauty and style,
With a classy shoe collection

But she is now only 11
And reassures herself that she
Is no barbie and would repeat
barbies not prettier than me, and

Til she believes it she still burns them
To hang them soar
Shows a mirror to the bald barbie so
She knows she's not pretty no more

See what its like to feel too short
as She cuts at the knee
She says" i can be more
like Barbie if she's more like me"

Wheres obese Barbie,
or Immigrant Barbie from far
Black haired or short haired Barbie
Who's bus pass is her car

How about welfare Barbie or
realistic Barbie anything but
A smooth long haired long legged
Perfect shaped ***** and ****

With Friggin hips child birth was
Not made for and why
She asks Can't barbie have flaws so
I can pause the feeling that I

Will fail before I try if I
Am expected to be
So beautiful and Barbie never talks
No wonder kens easy to please

the message seems look pretty and
Dont talks all u need
So she hangs them violently
but quietly wishing they would bleed

But as she gets older shell
Like herself more and won't dwell
That god didn't make her a Barbie
maybe hes not as good as matel.

1

The chards rising.  Am I the praying bird?
In the gleaming sun my bones are negative,
My flesh a cypher walking through the plains
As ghost I move, my dark lord, above me
Flocks swirl and spike. I stand accused,
Your pointed face divining oblivion,
And no redemption in the rains of my
Cliff walk days.


2

I see my shroud pinning on the wires
His legs are razored forks spinning my
Compass from True North. Your dark brush-
Fire wings, the swept wind, wheels and strings
My fate. Such black rhetoric in a burn,
Your caws, loosed perches, on the stakes, picks
My crowning grave. Black dove, your feathers finger
As they slice.


3

Smoke, the cardinal blood caries my teething
Bone, spades my hand without a flight.
Taut, the pulled noose my hooded one
I see my scarecrow’s reflexion, the scar,
Let blood, the seeded droppings end trailed
To my door. Feathers, ferry to carry on
Dowsing downward, black knight of down, to sticks
On extended wings.

mum's well intended tough upbringing ended in a two sided razor sharp sword
i am independent, intelligent, and successful
that same achievements cause me no shortage of frenemies
and a severe debilitating starvation for true friendship and love
men wont touch me with a 10 foot poll
both sexes make me out to be weird beyond the point of recognising there reflexion in me
imprisoned in a life i wanted, successful
with a incurable case of loneliness, i'm drowning out with food and bad poetry
this is my roaring twenties, hooray
cant wait for the next 80 years
going senile will be a blessing
no longer haunted by pain and unreached potential

It gets better, it gets better I hear them say
As I curl up in a corner wishing for this to end.
Keep it together, everything will be alright
I say to myself as grief and sorrow hold me tight.
You've come so far, don't give up now
I hear the whispers in my head screaming so loud.
Help, help I scream in the darkness as I drown
Waiting for help to be found.
Sadness.
I feel the warm touch of the light
And I see it clear as the day like a blind person who has been granted sight.
My skin starts to tear apart a loud noise sounding from a far
They're no longer screams but the beating of my heart.
I stand up from the corner and Toward the mirror my walking began.
As soon as I see the reflexion i begin to cry
There's a beautiful woman at the other side.
This is me, this is who I am
And for all those like me I will forever stand.

Per quanto adoro un matrimonio moderno o rustico .io sono un vero romantico a cuore .Un amante Jane Austen che si innamora perdutamente di morbidi .fiori lussureggianti e giardino ricevimenti partito- esque che vi toglierà il fiato .Questo .amici miei .è uno di quei matrimoni.Una splendida storia drop-dead .che è tutto il romanticismo .e tutto sulla bella .Vedi tutto catturato dalle Fotografia Redfield nella piena galleria .

ColorsSeasonsSummerSettingsMansionStylesRomanticTraditional Elegance

Da Sposa.Peter e io ci siamo incontrati nella scuola media.ma non iniziare risalente fino a dopo ci siamo laureati di scuola superiore .Dopo incontri per oltre otto anni .Peter ha infine deciso di proporre .con l'aiuto del nostro cane .Dexter .Peter fece un segno da appendere al collo Dexter ' che ha dettoè èommy .vuoi sposare papà?ècon un po' di zampa di cane sul segno .363 giorni dopo che Peter ha proposto .ci siamo sposati .Se potessi scegliere alcune parole chiave per descrivere l'ispirazione complessiva



e il tema stavamo andando perché sarebbero: romantico .classico ed elegante .Niente di troppo pesanteèVolevamo una serata piena luce d'amore .risate .la famiglia e gli amici .Volevamo solo che tutto sia classico .
tocchi speciali e progetti fai da te : Abbiamo avuto un artista dal vivo (pittore ).che ogni singolo ospite pensava fosse davvero incredibile !E lei era assolutamente abiti da cerimonia taglie forti incredibile ;una giovane donna di grande talento .Inoltre .il nostro cane ha svolto un ruolo speciale .era sullo sfondo della cerimonia di nozze .e poi dopo ci siamo sposati ufficialmente è venuto avanti in modo che potessimo recesso lungo la navata come una famiglia .La nostra lista di birra è stata inoltre selezionata a mano dal padre dello sposo .

PROGETTI fai da te:zecche

èsalvavita nel cartoncino che sembravano coi libri conè e èsu di loro .o la data del matrimonio .o la nostra monogramma sposato in penna d'oro .

èLa toile e tabella navy numeri in corniciè eacquisti per telai per diversi mesi .raccogliendo una o due qui o là .poi spray dipinto tutti loro oro .Mi piace toile e volevo nel mio matrimonio in qualche modo .ma non è tutto .così ** avuto l'idea di fare la tabella numeri toile .Quindi.con avorio e carta da parati blu toile .** tagliato ogni pezzo in base vestiti da sposa economici alle dimensioni del telaio.rintracciato numeri .e poi dipinto i numeri blu navy con vernice artigianali .

èHo anche fatto ilè èr .e la signoraèfirmare allo stesso modo.ma utilizzata vernice d'oro per un tocco diverso .

Fotografia : Fotografia Redfield | Florist : Radebaugh ' fioraio e Greenhouse | Wedding Cake : Graul ' Mercato | Cerimonia Luogo : La Liriodendron Mansion | Banco Luogo vestiti da sposa economici : La Liriodendron Mansion | Scarpe : Ivanka Trump | Bridesmaids Dresses : Alfed Sung | Catering :Dean And Brown Catering | vestito dello sposo : Tux Da Chaps Ralph Lauren | Grooms Scarpe : Clarks bostoniano | Cerimonia Musicista : Miriam Joy | Day Of Coordinatore: Stephanie Day Of Dream Day Planners | Abiti Groomsmen ' : Tux Da Chaps Ralph Lauren | Hair Stylist :sally Morales Of Blondie ' Hair Studio | Inviti .programmi e Signage: persnickety Invito Studio | Jewlerey : Kate ***** | live Artista / Pittore : Leah Crumbling | Banco Gruppo: The Bachelor Ragazzi band | Videographers : Reflexion Videografia | Designer Abito da sposa: AmsaleAmsale è un membro del nostro Look Book .Per ulteriori informazioni su come vengono scelti i membri .fare clic qui
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Sometimes you need to look back
To see over your shoulder the past,
To remember what brought you luck
And what withered away so fast.

Sometimes you need to look foward
To see the paths that lays down,
To imagine your way even if it's hard
And to realise the happyness sound.

Sometimes you need to look in the mirror
To see your eyes and what's inside,
To learn what you became in life's scissors
And to face yourself with pride.

Sometimes you need to look at the one beside you
To know that he's the reflexion of yourself,
To feel the energy of the self truth
And to the voice of others to not be deaf.

1

The chards rising.  Am I the praying bird?
In the gleaming sun my bones are negative,
My flesh a cypher walking through the plains
As ghost I move, my dark lord, above me
Flocks swirl and spike. I stand accused,
Your pointed face divining oblivion,
And no redemption in the rains of my
Cliff walk days.


2

I see my shroud pinning on the wires
His legs are razored forks spinning my
Compass from True North. Your dark brush-
Fire wings, the swept wind, wheels and strings
My fate. Such black rhetoric in a burn,
Your caws, loosed perches, on the stakes, picks
My crowning grave. Black dove, your feathers finger
As they slice.


3

Smoke, the cardinal blood caries my teething
Bone, spades my hand without a flight.
Taut, the pulled noose my hooded one
I see my scarecrow’s reflexion, the scar,
Let blood, the seeded droppings end trailed
To my door. Feathers, ferry to carry on
Dowsing downward, black knight of down, to sticks
On extended wings.

It was a little insane but who
Am I to judge?
You See ....my friend had a theory
how our world came to where it was

So as he told it to me, is how ill tell it
it to you, but not caring if ur believing
But simply I am just repeating
As I found it oddly intriguing

So, it all starts where a society of
of real gods all live
And their kids are subject to
Learning about their power& gifts

And as an assignment school kids
Were told they had to create reality
On a fictitious planet where it'll
inhabit a species with mortality

Using the knowledge you were taught
In science Eco system building
Using philosophy, math. Art anything
You've learned can help your vision

Now the rules of such a creation
We're to calculate things right
Cause once it's created it's living
And we don't extinguish life

So the teacher explained that if
You create and it goes off course
You can only watch it destruct for
example if u Forget a food source

If you forget to make the
physical bodies of the beings
To be properly resilient enough
to match the environmental skeems

You are forced to watch in horror
As the death u caused slowly comes
And only then will you know
What it takes to be a god, and no one

Will have similar projects so no ones
right or wrong that's why you create
It's imaginative and limitless
As long as u properly calculate

So only a week later long before
the deadline when projects are due
one student who made a planet called earth,
that reflected green and blue

And he asked his teacher if he
Could induce the process of creation
Knowing well, that inducing creation comes
after due date&presentation;

So the teacher replied that
Normally he would say no
But ill be honest im curious to see
if u finished only starting 7 days ago

But before you do. I hope you know
The ethical obligation
That comes with creation, don't
U wanna re work calculations?

Cause they need a way to breath
And have a way that their body
Can self remove or evacuate
And the student said like a hobby

I loved I recalculated made
Adjustment after adjustment
So if I'm missing something I won't
Find it cuz I can't see nothing.

So the teacher said go ahead
And the student left that night
To induce the roots that
Wi grow the fruit of life

So time passes and it's time
To present to the classes
This student presented last&when;
he showed earth all of them laughed

And since there is no wrong or right
The student was puzzlesd
As his classmates started asking
Questions so flaws shoe but subtle

"Why would free will have a need"
When u only need to program
The nucleus to force morality
Now it's on you when your plans

Are wrong, but the student
Explained that he could not plan
Like most others did cuz there are
Copious variables when they can

Make their own decisions and
Be there own gods
So I only gave them
the power and respect that we all got

Cause most of your planets are built
By plans, predetermined by control
Where as mine gives them the tools
Without manipulating them wit goals

Only the fear of survival and a
Heightened consciousness so
well aware before acting on wrong
as instinct warns, so they know

What they should do, and would you
Want a program instead of intuition
Robbed of the right to make decision
cuz in my Opinion that is no vision

of someone creating something livin
So overlooked my pessimism
So existence wit decision prevents
planet prison, think of a mechanism

Something designed to mimic
Life mearly living a planned cycle
So most of your plants are more
Mechanisms then life cause vital

Is the presence of survival so
It can serve as a reminder
That recklessness has consequence
To show control of what transpires

Is there's and with this I moved
On well aware it could end
Badly but sadly the same free will
I gave as a gift could curse them

And that's when his teacher said
Class congratulate earth
As I've never once had a student
Factor in free will which births

Authenticity of life otherwise
Your planet is a replication
This projects meaning is
built around the fact that your creation

Wouldn't really be a creation as
A school would never allow
A class of students to cause
creation with no knowledge of how

Uncontrollable true creation is
And that no creations perfected
And bearing the pain of knowing
Something exists in pain directed

By your creation so be patient
Don't spawn life just to see the odd
So the lesson,its dangerous
playing god so it's important u be a god

That's when the teacher dismissed
The class but asked his student
That created earth to stay after
Class so we can decide who is

Gonna break it to my bosses that
You created life
And when they were alone
teacher said plz fill me in and shed light

On how you got everything cohesive
I had to write a new thesis
Many times and felt so blind even
After schooling to breed this

Planet the way you did, how do
They breath explain
So he said out of the choices I had
For elements the easiest to maintain

So it's constant and remains
Is to have what's needed to breath
Surrounding them and that way the
wind acts to spread what they need

So all I had to do was create
an Eco system that's supported by
The same thing but used in a cycle
Opposite to another, so .....in my

case, earth is filled with What the
dominant and sub-dominant life needs
Just like a fish needs to be in water
Earth uses oxygen as its need

So upon designing plant life a tree
And other plants breath
Out the oxygen the eco system needs
so I hope the environment we

Left to them is taken care of,
So the teacher nods and says
One more question which makes
Me wonder if ur advanced or lead

By luck but what was your
thought process when programming how
A basic nucleus functions you
Added so much detail so now

I'm asking why greed, anger and
Other emotional gauges got
So complicated when these emotions
Develop in evolution with thought

So the student replied, ill be honest
I created earth to reflect me
So now I'm more bonded to my
Creation and empathy from me

Would lack if in fact I failed
To know how it felt
To be lonely. Scared or angry
And despite how there all felt

They make us constantly aware
Of ourselves leading to improvement
On a scale more significant so
They would have to be stupid

To not notice with how complicated
They are by instinct and emotion
That if the environment gets bad
Or poverty is had there's a notion

That nags inside them knowing
Something's Wrong and they'll fix it
But ill let u know as time passes
What happens no I'm sorry it isn't

Allowed to go with you. There's
Many issues, and unwritten law
All creations must be stored with
The proper personnel who log

A the findings as some bindings
Have taught us In the past
That evolution after creation has an
Outcome that is worth to track

Each creation and note the
Changes and evolutions as they
May hold the answer To a question
We won't ask til later so I say

You deserve a pat on the back
But we may very well be introuble
As its my job to make sure u don't
Stumble upon it but befuddled

Am I at how you factored In key
elements we purposely leave out
So when your creations crash it's
No harm some as the lessons passed

Cause reproductive systems are
Graphed and added to the math
When your much older in university
Although they teach in class

To give the female of a species
The means to self conceive
With only eggs and the fathers
DNA but still you achieved

A sustainable process, and
If as a novice u can do this
There's no telling what your future
Creations will teach us, but with

All of this comes responsibility
So lets go call the authorities
And let them know we are in
Possession of an unlicensed piece

Of science and be proud. That
U didn't just play god
You weighed the responsibility
And took well measured steps not

Even taught to you, and even
If earth is not with u
It still reflects how complex you as a
God think,so lets hope earth will too

Cuz any misanthropy is misplaced
As imperfections reflexion
is why conception of perfection
Leaves a contradicting impression

Cuz the same section that's stressin
Abnormalities exist
Is the same formality that makes it
normal so this paradox insists

That something is what it isn't
And it isn't what it is
Like love and hate, a perfect life
needs a nature where antonyms sit

And in essence this is why your
world leaves me impressed
But most ppl dont understand this
Theory and will judge it a mess.....

The scents
the smokes
the spices that singe to perfection
I see my reflexion
A tossing ocean of blues and greens
the glidings of an embassy
unbeknownst to the bright world
the sea.  I see my ocean
the sands approach and
island girl climbs
from shimmering lights
bright as sun reflexions
off the water.
Long tresses with thistle
and grasses
she passes the palms
Bare ankles soft pedals
Of padded feet on sand and stone
Roam
Just enough and not too much
time and quiet and space and the roar of surrounding
Survive the fruits of
strength and the climb
the herbs
the healing
scents
smokes.
the spices.




Island
companions
and treetop
roofrock
sounds
of night
healing leaves
grasses
and herbs.

Sweet drips
of fruits
that uncurl
in prying
palms.
Seeded beauties
with beads
of sunset
pearls.
Shells of milky
rainbow and
clashing
slate

and the
kick back
fire sky
night side
beats.
The beats
of
roaming clouds.
En-route to
the buttermilk
moon.
Purple
Arabia of
the Horizon.

I'm looking back across my life
at what i have lost or made.
I cant recall a single time
when fury paid
so i struggle to be patient
for i have reached a wise age.
Every speech in rage,
accompanied with it some kind of cage.
Every word
hurts in your angry moments.
So now i have learnt
to be calm and to relent
not in my restraining efforts to change,
but to realize
that once anger takes over
my reasoning flees.

~~~

I'm watching the road to eternity
perhaps
I'm just basting cries
to the hopes of attracting a moonbeam
a reflection
within your eyes
A twisted path
from dawning time
that leads
through push and shove
A breeze that moans
through bows aloft
and swirls the dust of love
~
My footstep
stubbed a root
so gnarled
I tumbled
astray the path
Though I returned
to sacred ground
my fate so befell your wrath
~
I stand alone
amongst the weeds
where a Fragrant Rose
once bloomed
I cannot see
nor feel the warmth
within your heart
entombed
~
And still the years
creep past forever
dark shadows veil these skies
Your rose defies
a memory's tether
No reflection
within your eyes
~~~

Self improvement isn't always
Easy but nothing ever is
When it's worth equals your birth
And no longer do I feel cursed

Cause control with moderation
Accountability and resiliency
Needs alignment so my assignment
Is to create a formula like science

That leaves me less defiant
And use my rolodex of excuses  
Cause that laziness is useless
Or maybe I'm just to stupid

But you don't have to be smart
To learn from a mistake
That I inadvertently force on myself
Mimicking the traits of ****

Without the date so I try to escape
To make my life better
Cuz I believe it's never too late
Wait....they say never say never

Which is more convoluted than clever
So whatever, I just wanna be better
So I leave this motivational letter
to remind most hardship endeavored

Are created by me so whether
I call it bad luck deep down I know
lobotomy of proper ideology leaves my life like our Economy, and its told

Philosophy states success is made when preperation meets opportunity
And it's been hard prepping for what can feel like a dead end but... No

Cause faith isn't just for religion
You must calculate your vision
Cuz any goal met must first be set like premonition the first Provision

Of many on a desired mission
no longer will my present position discourage me cause courage.Be my currency even if currently conditions

Leave me impositioned by decisions
Of the past that finally crash
When it chases me to grasp
The changes I've made but that

Is the bad karma I rightfully have
Wooven like its tapestry that flows
So without a needle&thread; or learning to knit i still knew how2sew

forced to reep it and keep it asan
Expensive lesson given
Ramification and consequence
Once written will later find u wishin

That the epiphany now hittin me
Didn't need so much time to see
But the sams transgressions may
Also be a blessin, a present of me

Who is evolved from who I use to be
But still knowing its nor enough
So more consciously I move on as it cautions me to live lawfully tough

And although premature I grew up
This reflexion will be my incubator
better late than not seein the indicator to act as my Instigator

The initiative initiating creator
So if you judge me for early labour
That conceived the belief Received i only hope it relieves knowing these

Words are left to show your deceived
But if that's the cost I wagered
Then this poem now stands a receipt for dues paid and mayb one day later

I can be refunded or if nothing write it Off as a cost of business
Or even education bridging the gap
Of inflation since my occupation

Leaves me expendable so vacation
is taken at club prescription med
So metaphysically I fly to my own
Tropic island gettin out my own head

Where I dare swim in the despair
Of being overwhelmed by damage
left by dumb adolescence to manage
The mess it collects so i bandage

damage i caused Unnecessarily
Physical and mental damage
mislabeling Addiction as a habit like affliction warnings were in spanish

Walking around while I fly high
Not realizing I was being ravaged
So if i end average its stil better than
The full picnic basket short a sandwich

That I was, with a side order of
A chip on my shoulder
Which I learned to swallow with my
Pride which is y i got fat when older

Which is a built Im jacket as colder
It will definitely get til karmas done
Dishing out what outta be awfully
Close to described as ******

A relationship maintained constantly
And a futures what it's costin me
Basically karma holds the **** u emit
Like it was a bag of your colostomy

Only it gets tossed back onto me
Which sparked nostalgia in my head
Hearing my mothers voice echo
Now making sense of why she said

I was **** for brains or **** head
Like my dad often used
Not as abuse but to give truth
Of what becomes of wasted youth

You are a vital medicine to me,
A forever addicting drug on my brain.
You are wholesome,
You are psychotic,
Everything I don’t but do need.

A reflex is what I call you,
An immediate, involuntary response,
In any situation although
Not always wanted,
But appreciated yet hated in hindsight.

I often wonder,
In sleep deprived daydream,
If I supply an isolated but overwhelming
Suffocation in your changing mind,
Like you have so rudely overtaken mine.

Forget, forget, words of a man tortured by pain,
But you linger,
A lonely *****, begging for time,
Yet when you receive it, you only push
Your desires away.

You pushed me away and I can’t return,
But a memory is imprinted in the folds of my life.

I cannot forget...
אני לא יכול לשכוח

©  STEPHAN PICKERING / חפץ ח"ם בן אברהם
12 Shevet 5778 / 28 January 2018
revised:
3 Iyyar 5758 / 28 April 2018
19 Iyyar 5778 / 4 May 2018
20 Iyyar 5778 / 5 May 2018
21 Iyyar 5778 / 6 May 2018

Shabtai Zisel / 'Bob Dylan' (1964):
'Forget the dead you've left, they
will not follow you'

W.G. Sebald z"l (1966):
'And so, they are ever returning to us,
the dead'

I.

the Path / derekh is silent,
a vacuum,
resonating with the
footsteps of tzaddikim, whose
teachings transcend(ed)
the Kingdom of Night...

where there was no longer
kefitzat ha'derekh
shrinking of the road
jumping the Path
teleportation.

...un die vvelt hot geshivign,
taught Reb Elie Wiesel z"l...
& the world remained silent.

not existing for themselves,
the tzaddikim speak with the
Shekhinah from their throats,
and the mar'ot johanna
visions of johanna
are witnessed by breslover
chavurot on desolation row,
murmurations of starlings
overhead.

listening to them, we survive
to walk / dorekh
the Path, with kabbalists z"l,
R. Chiyya & R. Yose,
the chevraya kadisha
the holy companions,
a derekh through the sea,

away from the energy vampyrism
& relentless phantasmagoric
cyberstalking of
the phantasmagoric Queene,
who engages in quacker
cross-contamination,
while prising her mindfully
plagiarising lips (a mirror image
of a death's-head hawk moth)
for a crucifictionist wafer:

a tax-deductible, copyright charity
deduction for ontological delusions
long after midnight,
clutching her cossetted Yehu'di
hatreds like
a perforated osculatorium,
because, שמח בחלקו.

    ****

Reb Uri Tzvi Greenberg z"l, 1923 [trans.
Michael Weingrad]:
'For so long there has been no water
in the wells. Only curses. ...& suddenly
the icons scream in Yiddish'.

II.

Light is the absence of Darkness,
to acknowledge Rav Rebecca
Newberger Goldstein.
& the holy slow train moves
(when it does)
sideways across flat earths.

consider the post-Auschwitz dilemma for
an opus dei natz'ri  who cannot grasp
the etymology:

prae / before + posterus / coming after
praeposterus / reversed, absurd.

did Shabtai Zisel / 'Bob Dylan' influence the
teachings of R. Yitzhak Luria z"l ?

III.

memories are stalking & ambuscading,
& as you said, Reb David Meltzer z"l,
'the Yehu'di in me is the ghost of me'...

& now the hourglass is invisible...

the windows of perception
to be peered into,
not out of,
as hairline fractures
develop in the retinas of narrow-ruled
yellow writing tablets masquerading
as frenetic mirrors,

never glimpsing tzefiyat ha'yeshu'ah,
the expectation of salvation.

& we are here,  
witnessing cyberian corpses
erecting three-way mirrors to their
obbligato and  mindfulness for girl
children...the mantras of a white
supremacist ****** ****** trained to
effect genocide  at a distance, his
audible hungering  for the  rapture  
of an endloesung in his drive-by
dark carnival, having no
farraginous self to say farewell to.

Lilith, the Midrash teaches, ate the
'bones' of Her enemies, but the
****** uses prayer beads as
majong ***** fired from his cap gun.

IV.

'she' stands on the bamboo porch,
thinking the lotus leaves floating by
are a reflexion of 'her' crumbling
totenkopfverbaende phantasies.

long after midnight, she shrieks to
a cyberian Mytilene, her mind so narrow,
thoughts are forced to crawl through her
fossilised ***** majora, which she identifies

as a personal luchot ha'edot, the glass
**** molded by her proboscis tongue,
as it fabricates yet another delusion
of a 1967 that never happened.

'she' turns, stepping onto an
embroidered nationalsozialist
matt,  'her'eyes a frail ambassador
of demure malice.

it is a moment such as this, when 'her'
desire of wanting to have been an
Auschwitz  Aufseherin, cannot be  
masqued  as a playful Latrodectus mactans.

ephemeral fabrications cling to 'her' --
an unbroken dance of impetuous
mirrors, as 'she' remains on the
porch, clutching 'her' 'we' aliases,

thinking, somehow, they are 'her'
aharon ha'bris...



V.

interlude / הַפסָקָה

Kafka z"l:
'I am divided from all things
by a hollow space'

Shabtai Zisel / 'Bob Dylan':
'I felt that place within, that
hollow place, where martyrs
weep, & angels play with sin'

Rav Yitzhak Luria z"l:
after tzimtzum,
the withdrawal of
'ehyeh 'asher 'ehyeh,
there came to be
halal ha'panui,
'the hollow space'

R. Shabbatai Sheftel ben
Akiva Horowitz z"l, 1719.
Shefa tal [Frankfurt edition]
3.5, 57b [Hebrew]:
'Before the world's bere'****,
'ayin sof withdrew into its essence,
from itself to itself within itself.
It left halal ha'panui within its
essence, in which it emanated
and created' [emended from Reb
Daniel Matt 1995]

VI.

sh'ma...'mir veln zey iberlebn, iberlebn, iberlebn'
(Lublin Chassidim z"l, 1939)...
hear: 'we shall outlive them, outlive them,
outlive them'...

why did R. Moshe Sofer z"l teach
'Chadush aser min ha'toray' / 'What
is new is forbidden in the Torah'?

the trolls here & what they call 'poetry':
collections of letters on a flickering
moon-glow  computer screen behind
a suburban curtain,
letters having no glyphs or sounds,
all encased in Sho'ah denial...

and yet. white supremacist sock monkeys
cannot silence the memories of the
thousands of Yehu'dit children z"l
burned alive on pyres, June-August 1944,
in the holy natz'ri village of Auschwitz,
in october country.

לעולם לא עוד לעולם לא עוד

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...with thanks to my akhim / brothers & poets,
D.J. Carlile & George Dance & Will Dockery
for reading previous drafts...
...and to the memories z"l of David Meltzer 17 February 1937-31 December 2016
& Anthony Scaduto 7 March 1932-12 December 2017...chaver'im / friends
& for the 'or from R. Paul Laderman z"l &
R. Meyer Goldberg z"l

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
STEPHAN PICKERING / חפץ ח"ם בן אברהם
Torah אלילה Yehu'di Apikores / Philologia Kabbalistica Speculativa Researcher
לחיות זמן רב ולשגשג...לעולם לא עוד
THE KABBALAH FRACTALS PROJECT
לעולם לא אשכח



IN PROGRESS: Shabtai Zisel benAvraham v'Rachel Riva:
davening in the musematic dark

To be able to talk to you without no limitations. To be able to get to know you without hesitation. You are the one I LOVE deeply oh so intensively am willing to give my Life for yours if it must be. You are the Girl of my dreams ...she is beautiful her height about 5'7 her eyes hazel to honey brown at times depending on the day how she feels and the weather her skin as smooth as a baby's face the perfect tan a combination of 2 ethnic groups AA and Caucasian and not a 100% sure about that either. Her name I cannot give you it but her hair is oh so delightfully scentful her smile melts my soul right at the most intimate part of my sacred temple. She holds the Master Key to my soul and heart. She is my day and my night...she is the air I breathe in the morning light she is the presence I feel alone in the dark...my whole being revolves around her but she is a mystery to me since we never get to talk freely. I am bound by the chains of love and extreme attraction...to bad that I am just the Guy that works were she eats at...am just a mere abstraction.

I know am not an important person in her life or even got the type of class or status to be at her caliber. Nevertheless, I am the man that adores her I would give anything to converse with the Goddess that owns my very soul for I am lost in words describing her reflexion the only part I been able to see. I am so eager to see if the beauty that encompasses her physical being is similar to the beauty that reflects her spiritual being. Am also curious to see what type of personality she obtains but from her looks am sure she is far from my personal gain. Perhaps her morals are similar to mine...who are her friends what does she like...what's her favorite food? But am simply lost I don't know what else to say.

She hasn't come to eat at the Restaurant and am bummed out about that fact. Haven't seen her in a while...I wonder were she is at...perhaps enjoying life to the fullest with her BF that I have never seen. A man well established with high education and a professional job with a expensive car and lots of money...and then there is me a mediocre Dishwasher 2yrs of college but dropped out at 45 credits has student loans to pay...a cheap car to get me from point A to point B and a small tight budget that allows me to pay my bills and have a little extra to barely have fun in Life...so yeah...am here sitting alone it's 12:33 AM in my Mother's house having my 7 day vacation thinking about her...her then her and only her. She is the one who has conquered my heart but sadly I remain a broken mirror a pitiful reflexion of the shattered and scattered portrait of the lone poet who loved, loves and will forever love that one girl...that one day came into the establishment I work at and gives me light and hope but yet darkness and pessimism due to my failures in life and her triumphs in it.

Alone am here trapped thinking...what would be to have the honor to be her man and she my woman to love her caress her and care for her every need. A lone soliloquy of a soul in the in endless loop tangled in love but withering away due to the fact I am just the lonely man who may be the beggar the homeless and strained in the rain.

No where to turn no one to aid where has God gone to...I lost him somewheres.
©Franko the Christian Poet

1

The chards rising.  Am I the praying bird?
In the gleaming sun my bones are negative,
My flesh a cypher walking through the plains
As ghost I move, my dark lord, above me
Flocks swirl and spike. I stand accused,
Your pointed face divining oblivion,
And no redemption in the rains of my
Cliff walk days.


2

I see my shroud pinning on the wires
His legs are razored forks spinning my
Compass from True North. Your dark brush-
Fire wings, the swept wind, wheels and strings
My fate. Such black rhetoric in a burn,
Your caws, loosed perches, on the stakes, picks
My crowning grave. Black dove, your feathers finger
As they slice.


3

Smoke, the cardinal blood caries my teething
Bone, spades my hand without a flight.
Taut, the pulled noose my hooded one
I see my scarecrow’s reflexion, the scar,
Let blood, the seeded droppings end trailed
To my door. Feathers, ferry to carry on
Dowsing downward, black knight of down, to sticks
On extended wings.

I stare into their wandering eyes,
My history there in black and white lies.
Can I go back before this time?
Back when my life was numb and divine.

No mouth to speak, my heart is mute,
This mirror shows what I have learned,
This reflection of the bridges I have burned.
My sickness cut their spirits' root.

My youth propped up, upon a stage,
But freedom lay outside the cage.
The colors surged and blood ran hot,
Can I pay the price to be free of his thought?

Oh lights, oh lights, they blind, they burn,
This hopes' shining vision,
Just a faithless derision,
And my new found freedom still waits its turn.

The mirror shows all this to be true,
A life in the darkness ever fearful of you.
But the mirror cracked as my reflection ignites,
And even without words my electric heart can take flight.

1

The chards rising.  Am I the praying bird?
In the gleaming sun my bones are negative,
My flesh a cypher walking through the plains
As ghost I move, my dark lord, above me
Flocks swirl and spike. I stand accused,
Your pointed face divining oblivion,
And no redemption in the rains of my
Cliff walk days.


2

I see my shroud pinning on the wires
His legs are razored forks spinning my
Compass from True North. Your dark brush-
Fire wings, the swept wind, wheels and strings
My fate. Such black rhetoric in a burn,
Your caws, loosed perches, on the stakes, picks
My crowning grave. Black dove, your feathers finger
As they slice.


3

Smoke, the cardinal blood caries my teething
Bone, spades my hand without a flight.
Taut, the pulled noose my hooded one
I see my scarecrow’s reflexion, the scar,
Let blood, the seeded droppings end trailed
To my door. Feathers, ferry to carry on
Dowsing downward, black knight of down, to sticks
On extended wings.

1
The chards rising.  Am I the praying bird?
In the gleaming sun my bones are negative,
My flesh a cypher walking through the plains
As ghost I move, my dark lord, above me
Flocks swirl and spike. I stand accused,
Your pointed face divining oblivion,
And no redemption in the rains of my
Cliff walk days.


2
I see my shroud pinning on the wires
His legs are razored forks spinning my
Compass from True North. Your dark brush-
Fire wings, the swept wind, wheels and strings
My fate. Such black rhetoric in a burn,
Your caws, loosed perches, on the stakes, picks
My crowning grave. Black dove, your feathers finger
As they slice.


3
Smoke, the cardinal blood caries my teething
Bone, spades my hand without a flight.
Taut, the pulled noose my hooded one
I see my scarecrow’s reflexion, the scar,
Let blood, the seeded droppings end trailed
To my door. Feathers, ferry to carry on
Dowsing downward, black knight of down, to sticks
On extended wings.

A wave of thought always encircles you,
A wave of yarn link to civic concern always involves you,
A hope for change always enforces you,
A longing for endeavouring cogent living always inspire you,
Your brashness for a transformation yields this long journey,
A journey for reflexion, inquest, elucidation and communication,
Communiqué for an unfailing thinking and for an effort for human wellbeing!
Now it is the time for us to continue this journey,
A journey of unfurling thought for rationality, fairness and equality!

Ach, Sarah über das Zeichen beim Dasein
Wie der gesammelten Wege eines Weges
Des goldenen Feldweges rein charme

Der warm tragenden Wände unter die Schatten
Die heißersehnte Erfassung
Wird die Freiheit des ewigen Raumes geben
Auf die Hand zur Leinwand des Antlitzes der Natur
Die Quellen der Submarine, der versteckte reine erste Mensch

Den Thron zu führen, das Flüstern nicht aufgezählt der Weisheit der Wehen
Der lebendige Anfang der schaffenden Zeit.

Reflexion can bring depression
When reality is perception
predicated on a view of deception
Leading a manifestations progression

That shatters the complexion
Showing false feelings that lessin'
With the realization, or implication
Your aspirations are now lessons

That leave you less than copacetic
As dissipating is how impressive
You thought you were but pathetic
Is all you are, and so poetic

Is justice, and just this embedded
Is enough to make one emasculated
An epiphany, that's description be
A prescription seen to mask u hated

By the you subliminally traded
When morals and ethics do not
Seem to grow lessons as possessions
Show no imperfections, but got

Ramifications, that stand complaisant
When complacence seems apt
But that impatience, is now a patient
That's not embracin your thought

Until aspirations and inspiration
That was on vacation comes back
With inflation for the duration and is
Stationed threatening to smack

A reality check, as fallacy sets, at
The front door, on the door mat
As Persistent without resistance
As a fiend imprisoned by a crack

Addiction, that conditions the track
Of your life, filling its path
With inept regret u once had swept
Under the carpet for a debt that

Haunts the future, so u adapt
Or stay learning nothing and lack
A vision that helps position what
The collision causing impact

Has now been givin, so just collapse
Or accept the challenge& fight back
So you can disappoint and appoint
A future controlled by u or fact

Is that every hater who laughed
Every person who said u lacked
Can eat the **** given when their vision predicted there isn't a hack

Or given to counter act
The retardation of ur handicap
So my mission, is to take what I'm given, and make a livin that has

Something that pride can intact
Remain, as a brain shows the dead
Can resurrect like a man whose ***
Lets him be ***** after ****** past

Symbolizing that in fact
That a comeback before an end
Is possible and is plausible,
More so than Christ rising again

No I'm not anti religion but when
It's time to be brave, what'll aid you
Is not a multiple layer of prayer cuz
Despair, can only repair and save you

Not Jesus Christ or Buddha in life
Cause respite and redemption
Can only be implicated once infiltrated
Is the integrated affection

That failure uses to comfort you
And lead you to ultimate denial
So you believe the deceived, that convinces u what u achieved is vital

When it's minuscule and limits you
To a pity fool it's pitiful
So it's time to leave a mark, not a ****
Cuz a stink left as a residual

Leaves only a bad smell no visual
Be a man who's original
Don't follow footsteps, and hook left
Like u cook **** for a digital

Scale that weighs the individual
Not just the drugs and it states
That you are exactly what u will be
An expendable person who makes

No difference, cause indifference
Leaves you equal to pigeons
A scrub who only gets love from those who can't get above their addiction

Either that or your in a prison
Built by your bad choices now left
To be a constant reminder of how
You are blinder than a finer kept

Lemming, who gave away an ending
Full of purpose and worth
For possessions with no progression
Givin no lesson, a birth

Made in vain, and when the pain
Strains and stains your life
You'll remain in with the pain
You slowly obtain and might

Be susceptible to sleepless nights
Unprepared for the endless fights
But when insights not a set sight
You relinquish the potential unlike

The one fate expected in spite
Of the ignorance, saying "psyche"
As it takes. The bliss it Gives,
Cuz likes a ***** when despite

The chance given for flight
Glory, greatness but it's height
Is stumped when even Forrest Gump
Succeeded when less than bright

Was he, but resiliency, invites
And provokes a hope that lies
In Every man that believes he can
Execute a plan, that dies

When you accept all the lies
That insist incessantly, ur trail
Will never lead or proceed to a day you'll exceed or hail

So when the greed impales
With desire, and greed, it's salt
Will cost you the dreams you tail
Prognosticating the reason u fail