.אני הילדה של המיים
.את מין הסתו הארןך
אוליי ביחד
,יש לנו סיפור אכר
.ספור של מלח ועלים
תזבי אותי
!הים שלי
אני כמו אבן
כי אני אקשנית
.ורצה לוהיות על האדמ
I am the girl from the water.
you are the girl from the long autumn.
Perhaps together,
we have another story-
a story of salt and leaves.
leave me be,
my water!
I am like a rock,
I am stubborn,
and I want to be on the earth.
Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry
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“Good writers touch life often. Mediocre ones run a quick hand over her. The bad ones rape her and leave her for the flies”– Ray Bradbury, Farenheight 451
(the spring blooming light was approaching.)
I hear hoofbeats, now.
thats the sound of her arterial valve, crackling on the oven
and thats her left aorta ,keeping time.
She is afraid she has it all mixed up
left aorta, right
right aorta, left; (?!?!)
touching life most often
is a hard guess.
(at best, mine is at work.)
a calculation, interpretation,
statement accusation.
thats my cervical cortex springing back, at the centrifuge
and thats my left cortex ,analyzing you.
I am afraid I have it all mixed up
left cortex, right.
right cortex, left; (?!?!)
giving life a run down
might be a bearable mess,
(but he is on the wheel)
making a turn to the station
faster faster FAST
relax
take a look back
that is the sound of the oil tank, up in flames,
the left turn signal, clicking.
He is afraid he has it all mixed up
left turn, right
right turn left; (?!?!)
raping the soul out of life (I assure you)
is your best bet.
Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry
Golden Star Poetry 