Sweltering and dripping sweat,
tillers of land prayed as they gazed
with frenzied hope and furrowed brows
up at a sun that glared relentlessly down
from a stubbornly cloudless sky.
Through August, the days limply crawled
into September.
The heat kept beating
and beating them down
until a few weeks later when
wind began to wail; trees trembled.
No lovelier shrouds were ever seen
than those gray shrouds of clouds
that delivered splattering droplets
which turned quickly
into sheets and sheets of rain.
It pounded ground
and soaked the thirsting fields,
and with the heavens,
the joyous farmers wept.
I walked across the desert.
Longing for someone so desperately,
I looked up at the sun.
The sun pierced my eyes relentlessly.
I could no longer see ahead.
A mirage appeared.
Not an oasis,
But 'you.'
Before I even knew it,
A clumsy stumble
Knocked me down.
And there it was—
The tender caress of the hot, sun-baked sand.
We human beings
So often forget
The 'you' who has always been right beside us,
Right before our eyes.
To see this village, search for its wrinkles
Look to the bubbies, who first brought forth life
to the zaydes, who polish their words of Torah ‘til they twinkle
Bubby’s hands may be calloused from
Pesach cleaning, polishing every chalice
Zayde’s body bent from work by day
and relentlessly studying the nights away
But watch their wrinkles break out
as a thousand voices joyously shout
Mazeltov!! Congratulations all around
on their 50th grandchild – count 'em –
Welcome him to bubby and zayde’s little town…
___________________________________
'bubbies' - Yiddish for 'grandmas'
'zaydes' - Yiddish for 'grandpas'
Mazel-tov - Congratulations
I just wanna fly away
From the places
Things and people
That breaks me
Slow me down
Or give me a setback.
I believe one day
I'll get out of the dark
Back on my feet
Picking myself
From the bottom
Straight to the top.
I believe I'll get there
Where I want to be
If I keep moving towards
My direction relentlessly
With a solid mindset
Steadily focusing on my goals.
Life is a bullfight
replete with an ugly, snorting beast,
with murderous eyes and sharpened horns,
trying relentlessly to kill you
in the most painful way possible
while your friends and family in the arena,
drooling, laughing, and cheering,
eagerly await the outcome.
My innocent crimes transcend into sinful mistakes,
While yours roam in circles to stay the same,
Pangs of conscience rip my melting ventricles apart,
When metal-cold claws depart out of your mouth,
And my viscera learns to keep itself together,
When you say your metallic jaggedness was ‘as light as a feather’,
And now, the claw that mauled my heart,roams about my body,
Sometimes in my throat, otherwise in my eyes,
And changes their colour into a red gaudery,
Watery tears flush from my eyes,
While you only notice how fast they sublime,
And so, I wish my tears were of blood instead,
Just so you could see the guilt that relentlessly stabs my head,
But I know it’s of no use,
And I know my efforts are futile,
For my innocent crimes transcend into sinful mistakes,
While yours roam in circles to stay the same.
LOVE CHANGED ME
She was a savage, a ing brute.
Unafraid to fight for what she wanted.
Brave enough to go to war,
For what she deserved.
~r.h. Sin
ME WISHING A MOTHERER WOULD
My family is more important than wealth, privilege or gold; it cannot be bought or traded or sold.
My love knows NO law, NO pity, NO fear, it dares all things and crushes down mercilessly and relentlessly ALL that stands in its path.
My love gets messy, mean, sometimes it even draws blood.
It clings and gets MADDENING with repetitive patterns, like horrendously BAD wall-paper in a room the color of, “No one wants to in’ chill here man…”
I argue, I fight, even stop talking to ALL of them at once!
However, at the end of my days, till the last breath I breathe, the love will be here, on these pages; flawless, raw, and faultless. Chosen and impeccable and absolutely, undefeated.
Because love changes people.
Share this:
People talk of the birds and bees
As a placeholder for the broader world
Reproducing in fecundity along with May flowers.
But there’s a deeper reason for the association
And it’s the sight and sound
Of them being relentlessly busy.
We notice them, their flights
And their buzzings and chirpings,
And more importantly we feel those sounds
In our very core,
A vibration that relieves of us stress
Releases endorphins
Makes us whole, and thus holy,
And reminds us
Maybe we too should take the time
To dance and sing, and build our nests
In the rejuvenating comfort
Of spring’s warm embrace.
(5/3/26)
Everyday, anytime
I go through pains
It strengthens and sharpens me
Making me stronger and bolder
To strive and thrive relentlessly.
Everyday, anytime
I go through threats
It makes me courageous and fearless
Sharpening and awakening
My soul to venture amidst danger.
Everyday, anytime
I go through a test
It brings out my best
Resetting my mindset
Giving me rest.
Everyday, anytime
I go through defeat or deceit
It makes me wiser and smarter
Lighting my awareness
If you don't go through it
You won't know what it takes.
I wear your handwriting
like a chain of snake bites
all around my hot, vulnerable body,
the poison is not wrong,
it is beauty to the bone,
tender on the flesh,
love in bleeding song,
I learned to stop fighting,
in the ecstacy of the smooth writhing,
Your unwavering dialect delved
into the core of me, relentlessly,
you taught me an erotic braile unveiled,
you've been naked in my blood stream
with a whispering scream,
revealing the soul of Poetry,
We have discovered the sweet
torture of destiny,
we feed one another ambrosia
not of mere flesh
but of desire fresh,
a passion born of purgatory hysteria,
I lick your lines
as if they are lifelines
to life with no sins,
you are my sex with no regrets,
you are my Angel through days complex,
Your fangs be flames
that nestle my heart beyond love crimes,
you are my joy,
You are my wicked divine Princess -
J.A.B.
HERS STRENGTH
Her strength doth ispire
as eyes burn blue fire.
Loathing injustice,
her rights on the pyre
Heart beats battle cry
loud and with pride.
Sheer indignation
eternally decried.
Her air once demure
now ferocious yet pure.
Against vain vile zealots,
her fight will endure.
She'll not go it alone.
So let it be known.
I'll fight by her side
till they're made to atone.
Her unsurpassed grace
lets nary a trace
of opression to show
on her sharp pensive face.
Heart, spirit, and mind
sits atop humankind.
Relentlessly righteous,
Not one of a kind.
An Owl sits high up in a tree
Looking so forlorn
Icicles hang down from the branches
His hat and scarf well worn
The Snow is falling relentlessly
Feet are almost frozen to the bone
His beady eyes glare constantly
As he braves the storm alone
His thoughts return to his old barn home
Which is not so far away
So off he flies through the forest so white
To return another day
As the snow falls on his feathers
He shakes to clean
Back to his safe abode high up in the barn
To wait for more clement weather
Now and then the past rushes over me.
Lost memories stealing my breaths away
as relentlessly as the churning sea.
Vivid become the years of yesterday.
Thoughts aimlessly adrift; or so it seems.
My mind clings to what feels like “should have beens.”
What thrills these reels; countless forgotten dreams.
Through the heartache and tears this soul still grins.
If others could see what’s inside of me;
perhaps they too could find part of themselves.
The kaleidoscope of identity
becomes crystal clear the further one delves.
Looking through the lens of time, I do see,
the frail face of the child; I used to be.
It’s best to be broken in a conscious way,
and then be taught
how to work with the aftermath of a broken heart,
than wait for life to teach you in its own ruthless way.
And no,
it’s not because we have personally screwed up.
It’s because life is relentlessly committed to our own awakening.
Relentlessly breaking us
so we can love more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a wooden body with steady onyx eyes
fixed through the warm, festive glow of
glimmer-strung branches heavy with ornaments
crimson ribbons curling like frozen candy canes
stalwart he stands, gray musket upright
at rigid attention guarding wrapped promises~
stern eyes track the vintage train’s circuit
buzzing relentlessly round tree-rooted tracks.
devoted guardian rooted in pine needles
preserving whimsy’s last spark in tinsel-strewn shadows~
protector of wide-eyed wonder when snow silences streets
keeper of memory’s embers — cinnamon, carols, and cold cheeks.
no mouse king approaches, no cracked walnut threatens;
yet, still he stands watching over Christmases present and past~
a soldier of sentiment safeguarding the fragile, the glitter,
the longing, the ache in the throat when the last bulb dims.
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