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I want to praise you  For all you’ve done. The actions you’ve taken  To become who’ve you’ve become. Everyday  You take a path unknown,
Merciful one, Hear my cries, May I find favor in thine eyes. May none of my words  I say be in vain, And may I, one day, find that quoin.
His eyes are disks, His teeth are jacks. His arms sinewed with cables With gold along his back.   A spark of electricity
As soon as the rosy-lining of sun appeared, The children sprang from their homes and met at the center. Their soiled feet pounded the stone pathways, alerting the
My stupid kike, you inspire me to write.How I hate the way you flap, sneer and snort,Invading my mind day and through the night,Always dreaming about the misreport.
  last summer, the slant of sun scorching the sky an orthodox jewish man i can’t say his name stabs six people at jerusalem pride parade  
Different but similar, in distinct scenes Interpretations of that which is “eternal” Some of the bounded in settings infernal, Variations seen      In the beginning, man created ideas
An old Jewish folktale says that words are feathers set loose in the wind; once free, you can never take them back. I had forgotten that story. But my words are poison ivy rather than feathers.
The crunch of your boots sends my sister quaking in fear. I hate you, But I am grateful you drained her of tears. Water is precious.  
i wonder what the others feelwhen drinking wine or grape juice.it's strange, i know--it tastes to melike comfort, love, identity--the fruit of the vine, warm chanukkah nights,
This boy is one for the history books  
When I was a boy I crossed the sea My wrists rubbed raw by chains And the seabed was soft Beneath sore feet Oceans came down like rain And by the light of the waning moon
Let Me Tell You
  Mom, can we talk? Can I ask you a question? A question about a suggestion that was made by a man in the streets of Jerusalem. He stopped me on the street and stared at my bare feet forearms and knees,
Take this star in front of me. Shining so beautifly. Long ago it dare not show, So all the Nazis need not know. As time went on things got better. As time went on, we started to glimmer.
Three drops of blood.
the rich fighting fish finds its reflection, like a brother’s forked electrical outlet that sent vibrations down his asking arm. we have it all but find ourselves unsatisfied.
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