a people of bullhorns

We are a people of bullhorns
we cry out in the night
we cry out in the dusty sunlight
but nobody really listens

its not that we don’t care
but all this digital shouting
craving attention
recognition
has dulled out our memory
and we have lost the art
the actual knowledge of sound
the craft of litening

one reed floating on the water surface
the hissing of atumn leaves
the pounding of our own hearts
a creaking wooden floor in an old house
long time ago

but there is an analogue wisper in the night
its present in the vast and lonely coountryside
can be heard above the din in the big cities
and if you listen carefully
over all our bullhorns

it speaks of birth
death
and of rebirth
of childrearing and of
sowing and reaping
od shelter for the very young
and the very old of loneliness
and leaving room for those to
follow

it has the power to teach us to direct our voices
it has the power to teach us to direct our voices
it has the power to teach us to direct our voices

and so
i will try to listen
and regain what has been lost to me

Comments

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 o...

Shul behaviour and pot smoking

So how exactly should you behave in Shul? I mean on one hand it is fairly simple: Just pick up any standard “Judaism for dummies” book and it will tell you that during service s Shul is a house of prayer, period, and the only conversation that should be going on is the individuals and the congregations conversation with the Almighty. On the other hand we have the facts of reality, maybe best summoned up by the following comment: “Well....Feinstein goes to Shul to speak to God....me I go to Shul to speak to Feinstein.” I guess at least in small Diaspora communities, there is only so much you can do about it. We tend to have enough problems to get a Minyan together as it is. So as long as people don’t start babbling during the Amidah, babbling is more or less tolerated. Then again, severe conflicts of interest occur, specifically during High Holidays. Because then a lot of people who otherwise never attend Shul turns up, bumping into other more or less secular Jews who they only meet on...

Get smart or die trying...from slipping on the muddy tiles.

Some people in this building still manage to amaze me. When I went out for Shul , before sunrise, I saw one of the neighbors wet mopping the tile floor of the loft outside his door, apparently in an effort to get the sand away. I was about to ask him what the hell he was mopping away sand for, seeing as the darn sand storm had not yet subsided one iota, but then what could possible be the point of that, except to make him aware that I considered him an unbelievable Putz ? So sure enough, when I now 6 hours later came back from a diagnostic Hebrew test for another round of Ulpan, the plentiful water outside his door still hadn't dried up, seeing as Beer Sheva is not only windy, stormy and sandy, but also cold. What had happened though, obviously, was that more sand had blown in from the desert of our dreams and longings, turnings the 20 or so wet mopped meters outside his door into a bleeding, slippery mud swamp, part of which has by now entered all our apartments via our shoes. ...

Introducing the Hardline According To
...Ofer Maimon

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