Melle Mel and Sukkot.....

Unemployed, all non void, walking 'round like a pretty boy Floyd, turned stick up kid, but....Well no, not really. But unemployed indeed since a couple of months - by my own choosing and no real excuse for only using my blog as a means to get 3 people at best to read my poetry. Supposedly a blog should be updated at least once a day, no? I had this grand scheme that I would do just that after I took the consequences of no longer standing three layers of incompetence above me at my place of work and hence resigning - I was going to dub it "The dole diaries" -but it never materialised. Maybe because I as of yet don't know if my dear ol' union intends to actually pay me any dole or if I shall have to live on fried rice for the remainder of my savings.

So anyways - I overslept this morning and was awoken by a phone call from Chip demanding that I was to immediately get in a cab and get my sorry behind to Shul as they were a man short of a Minyan (the quorum of 10 Jewish men necessary for service), so I called a cab and arrived just in time for Kriat Torah - half an hour late. After service we had breakfast, I had a smoke with Chip and was informed that Dale is badly depressed and will probably not show for some time. I had already figured as much as he doesn't even answer the phone but I miss the man. Still - at least he is talking to his closest friend. Then I was off to the JCC to meet up with P to explain to him the ABC's of his new computer, one of them worthless notebooks that are really small and reeeealy sloooow. How he has achieved to reach the age of 60 without knowing how to save a word document in a folder of his choice I have no idea. So that's about how much I managed to teach in 1,5 hours.

Yesterday I spent most the day building Sukkoth - first the Chabad Shaliach's and then Shul's. Sukkoth is my probably my favourite holiday - a lot of singing, the wonderful scent of Etrogim filling Shul in the early morning, the rattling sound of shaking Arba minim, 50 Jews crammed up in the Sukka under the pine roof, great food, and then staying late with the Israelis, the yeshiva bocherims and the rabbis - singing and talking Torah and getting drunk on Whiskey. Doesn't get better.

Personals Ad

"Hi there!
I'm happy you found my profile! Please sit back and let me introduce myself and my world!

People often tell me that what strikes them the most about me is my bubbly personallity, my eye to detail and my pure, intrinsic evil. My closest "frinds" often describe me as unintelligent, but with a well developped sneakyness that gains me insight into people weaknesses and an understanding of how to exploit them. I'm also known to be cheap and and as a man who rather bite his head off than pay for dinner. Some would probably point out my creepyness. Others have actually had the gaul to kvetch about my personal hygiene, looks, smell, and so on.

Professionally I'm a bit of a failure I'm afraid, seing as I just got fired, but I have high hopes of tricking my insurance company into paying a few months of dole, so I might be able to pay rent for the charming studio basement apartment I'm renting in South Bronx. I have been able to hold down several jobs for long stretches of time though, but they all ended as soon as my prison term was up, and in all honesty they didn't pay very well.

However - other peoples seething hatred for my person is easily balanced by my megalomanic and undying love for myself. Every thought, smirk or even word I bestow upon the general public I consider an act of bevevolent and loving kindness. And as they say - If you don't love your self, how can you possibly love somebody else? Hence there is no limit to my capacity for love!!!!"

So....sometimes I get a bit tired of all the streamlined copy writing on Frumster and other dating sites.....meh!!

Silver nitrate love

truth is
I never did know how to love
so in the nights I
flicked on the screen
and let my soul fall with with the cloudy white snow flakes
over yet another manhattan new years happy ending
and for another 15 minutes falling through the jewel light
of the shimmering city skyline scrapers
I was whole

I would steel the one liners from the sidewalk florists
and the confessions of the heart off the city side walks
I'd smoke my cigarettes in the softness of my dark room
and blow the blue, blue smoke towards the ceiling
waiting
savioring them words
saving them silver nitrate heart beats
for the next girl to show up en route some place completely different
such as marriage
such as love

I can't love and can't sleep so I
visit the late night movie shows
we sit few and far between
I watch the couples when the light comes on
they rub the fiction from their eyes and smile
to each other
drowsily like newborn

he helps her with her coat and as they leave
I turn my attention to the credits and all these
names from the bible

on cold winter nights there is a tune playing on
delancey street and when I'm brave enough
strong enough
determined enough
me enough
I walk to the middle of the bridge through the biting wind
where you can here it perfectly

other nights I just
flick the screen on
and let my soul fall with the snow flakes
over another manhattan happy ending
while I memorise the one liners for another girl
en route to somebody completely different
and light another

cigarette

Tuesday morning, 2 AM

come night
take me in
put your warm hands on mine
give me your darkness and sorrows and secrets
be my friend and lover as before

strew your silver on the river and poor your rain
on the solitary streets and give them comfort
caress the street lights and the sleeping cars
your breath in every lonely engine sound
in every tired sleeping block

come night sit down and share my coffee and my cigarettes
look me in the eyes and tell me that you'll never leave me
that I'll always be your child no matter what
your brother and confidant

that no matter what happens you'll always be there

come night with your slowing hours and your scent of time
play your song of cabbies, cops, drunks and homeless
to your tune of distant sirens, distant horns and distant dreams
give my regards to the starbucks clerks and the insomniacs

come night with your morphine for the wounded and insane
come night with your clarity of heart and mind and memory
show me all I lost and never cried for, and let me cry

come night and lie beside me
breathe your darkness all around me

come night and make me human

once again

Exile

exile
exile from
exile to
exile
on main street
and mean streets

exile from a life you dreamed of
a life you worked hard for
a life you were taught
a life you were raised to
a life you were meant for
a life planned and hoped for
a life that was supposed to be
a life lost

the scents coming through the curtains
sound of streets coming awake in the morning
being woken up by by tiny hands
seeing the same faces
grow and wrinkle
earning and buying your bread
in the same factory
from the same bakery

to a life after
a language not known
to the sounds of foreign streets
this city full of strangers
a life you do not know and cannot grasp
a life of cardboard boxes
an emptied apartment
a life of aching temples and sleepless nights
a life never prepared for
a life of learning anew

exiled by a woman
exiled by a war
a dictator
a dream
a mistake
a time

exiled to starting all over with no map and and a banged up compass

to a new
beginning

A small word

love
just one word
one word
and so difficult

love
one single word
and a thousand wars
and shattered hearts
covering the city streets
and lonely farm lands

paris and beatrix
hell purgatory heaven
and the smoking ashes of troy

love
this small word

abused
conquered
lied
mended
revoked
caressed
shouted
whispered
written
betrayed
suppressed
cried
silenced
forced
promised

love
this one word
and an infinity
every poet in every time
every letter in every alphabet
every heart in every era
in every land

love
on word

since the the first second was spoken to a cold universe
out of love

every man
every woman
every child

ever

What is the problem with men?

I'm in a bad mood. Fed up. With men. To be clear: I'm not a feminist, I don't believe men to have a rape gene or to be incapable of acting decently due to sociological constraints, general upbringing or an in general evil manhood into which we are socialised. Never the less, I'm truly fed up with the way certain men behave towards women. Part of the reasons are purely egoistic: I'm fed up with being treated like a potential moron, molester or rapist. I'm tired of noticing how women ahead start speeding up when I'm quietly walking home at night, and having too slow down or change sidewalks not to scare her. And a few months ago in New York City I was unable to get a girl to date me, to even meet me in a restaurant, partly because of her previous encounters with inconsiderate schmucks and madmen. Instead we talked on the phone for some 8 (!) hours, half of which was devoted to her interrogating me as to whether I was a stalker, madman, alcoholic or something other less appropriate for a good Jewish girl. Until we had to give up and never even met.

A couple of days ago I had a cup of coffee with an old friend. She is in her forties and dresses modestly as do most members of the middleeastern people to which she belongs. On her way home she stopped to exchange a few words with the man serving the subway booth as they are old friends. While she was talking to her she suddenly felt a very big person pushing up against her and his hand feeling her up between her legs and squeezing her behind. She was completely shocked and turned ice cold. But she also, fortunately, reacted and turned around. Behind her was a bear like man of middle age. She told him to stop, and demanded he made an excuse. As he tried to laugh it off she got angrier and kicked him in the leg. After a while the guards arrived and explained to the man that what he had done was illegal. The man himself tried to lecture my friend that "this is not how women usually behave in this country", and telling the guards that my friend had assaulted her (she is the least aggressive person thinkable and most computer geeks could carry her). My friend ended up making a police report, and so did the man. She was unable to sleep and felt terrible for a week after it happened. Anyone think that this excuse of a man had any trouble sleeping? So after a week she was called to the police station to witness. Not about the molestation, but about her kicking him on the leg.

Now this is not just a sad incident. I have many female friends whom have had stalkers, been molested, felt up and abused, telephone terrorised. And one very close friend was brutally raped. Now where do these men come from and who are they? And from where do they get the shittyness to treat women this way. It's incomprehensible. Of course there are rotten eggs among women, but in general they are unbelievably loyal to men. I used to drive buses at night and I would see all these little girls carrying there twice as big, drunk as hell, boyfriends onto the buses, puke over their clothes, making sure they got home. Is it these guys who grow up to be molesters?

I simply can not understand how a man can assault a woman and live with himself. Or shout "bitch" or "hoe" after a girl and feel good when she is stunned by the shock and shame. Brag about it to their friends.

Who are these men? They aren't. Men, that is. A real man is a source of good. A real man is "women and children first". A real man look to those week, whomever they are, and try to help out, and to those strong, and point out where they need to better themselves. A real man will feel valuable when he helps a friend, consoles a child or build a house.

One of the men I remember was my grandfather. He was very manly because he would let the grand kids punch his big belly with all their might while he laughed so hard his teeth nearly fell out. His arms was thick as trees after many years of hard work and his garage was filled with oily tools and a big industrial sharpening machine that weighed 2 tons. One day when I was playing one of my fantasy killing games, killing everyone, he grabbed me and said: "You do know that killing someone is nothing heroic, right?" I was a really young and fairly screwed up kid, and my heroes were John Wayne and Alan Ladd, so I asked: "What do you mean". He said: "A real hero is someone who saves someone's life. That is the finest thing someone can ever do in life."

Another real man is my father.

Some day I hope to be one myself. What these persons that purposely hurt, degrade, humiliate and molest women hope to achieve I can't imagine. May they all go to hell.