Deep in December in Tel Aviv
I get off the bus down by the sea
Temperature well over 80 degrees
Humidity way up there -- geez
Sweat fairly pouring out of me
I start humming ‘O, Christmas Tree’
As I approach an Israeli
He's staring right at me
It’s Chanukah time here, you meshuginah* American Jew
~ True, but I miss ‘Peace on Earth, Goodwill toward Men,’ too
_____________________________________________________________________
*Meshuginah' means 'completely crazy.'
Winter in Tel Aviv.
Cold skies.
Quiet streets.
Men and women moved like ghosts.
Machines of flesh.
Engines of fear.
Born—December 13, 1949.
Thirteen—age of awakening.
Israel came of age that day.
A nation of secrets.
A kingdom of mirrors.
They learned a truth:
The enemy within is greater.
So they entered hearts,
mosques, palaces.
No armies.
Only whispers.
They used hunger as a weapon.
Faith as a tool.
Money as a leash.
The rich fed the fire.
The West guarded the gate.
Israel became the watchtower—
guardian of empire,
eye of the storm.
But gold fades.
Power thins.
Even fear grows tired.
I watched the city breathe secrets.
And saw the end begin.
What starts in lies
dies in truth.
Loyalty is hunger.
When the hand is empty,
obedience ends.
Mossad will crumble—
quietly,
slowly,
like sand leaving a fist.
What was built in darkness
will drown in light.
And the world will whisper:
Power was never power—
only illusion.
O brilliant son of the desert,
You rose through the maze of your House
With precision sharper than a blade.
The future trembles beneath your feet—
But power, untempered by wisdom,
Is a fire that devours its bearer.
Do not chase the glory of empires too fast.
Rome was not built in one day—
And neither shall a just Arabia.
You cannot serve two masters:
The West with its silver tongue,
And your people, whose eyes still hunger.
Choose neutrality not as weakness,
But as strategy.
Your true legacy lies not in gold towers,
But in lifting the soul of your nation.
Forsake not your brother, Iran.
To unite the Crescent is to raise a new dawn.
The blood of Gaza weeps through the sand,
And every drop asks:
"Where is our brother?"
Sunni, Shia, Sufi—one people,
Divided by politics, not by God.
To unite them is to write your name beside kings,
To divide them is to sow your own ruin.
Beware the advisors with smiles from Tel Aviv
And tongues sharpened in Washington.
They do not dream for you—
They only use your night to hide their shadow.
The Middle East can rise again,
But only if you learn this truth:
Real power is not feared,
It is trusted.
The Nurse of Zionism (part 1)
She visited the stolen land
loved putting her feet in the sand
the sand was not pleased
the crushed bones of Palestinian dreams
olive trees burned so Europeans could party
Over three hundred bullets in a six year old
"Its complicated"
Thousand of children slaughtered
"Its complicated"
Doctors raped in IDF prisons
"Its complicated"
Children used as human shields
"Its complicated"
Hospitals bombed on purpose
"Its complicated"
Medical equipment smashed by soldiers
"Its complicated"
IDF dress up in Palestinians women's cloths
"Its complicated"
One will never heal
with a heart so cold for others
selfish, self centered, self absorbed
to the core
Nazis had nurses too
I should not be shocked
The Angel of Tel Aviv (Part 2)
I ask why the ones
with hearts of gold
carry such a heavy burden
of pain, loss and sadness
The world such a miserable place
nurses should carry compassions grace
mostly true
for in the afternoon sun,
the Hanoun in bloom
in Tel Aviv an angel of mercy
restored my faith in humanity
The scenes from Teheran and Tel Aviv
do in these blood-soaked knees
May this new war end
as fast as ‘twas begun
The next time a natural disaster strikes…whether it be a tsunami or
hurricane from the oceans, a flood from the rivers…or a tornado from the skies
notice how, all over the world, you see the same sadness…
the same sorrow, the same tears in everybody’s eyes.
And when we kill each other because of our differences…
our different countries, different lifestyles, the different Gods in whom we believe…
at the funeral of those we’ve killed…or who’ve killed us…
notice….how similar we all grieve.
When a bomb or a bullet kills a baby…whether in Palestine or Tel-Aviv
notice, as you watch the mothers at the funerals,
how similar they all grieve.
All the tears we cry are the same…
whether it’s a natural disaster…or an unnatural disaster we create…
no matter our religion, our politics…if we are gay…or we are straight.
Grieving is universal…it’s something we all share…
in every corner of the world…both near and far….
I only wish….
before the funerals…
we’d realize
how similar we are.
How it began
Men in green uniforms
ice blue eyes and leathery lips
saw me in the crib
and declared this child
is an Aryan
I clicked my heels and
sucked my thumb
Mother took to singing
sentimental lieders
and received the fab
iron cross
I became the kindergarten's
Fuhrer
To my regret, peace broke
into my dream
I circumcised
we moved to Tel Aviv
the rest is history
Kid naps here, daycare!
Sick babies...About those
Kidnaps are there! Out there!
I wish I could, evocation, dowry!
For an already invested $275 nuptial Tyler Mowrey!
Gaza wall and Tel-Aviv- a , embracing in Jackson Church
Sameeha Azra- eel A and a PEER in peer pressure for air fryer
Is your oxygen an EIN? Bargaining overseas? Playing diplomacy? Daunts in ranting ramps where models stood?
Sometimes, data cable is not that a bad idea, where "inna lillah" is also a cliched Hinda call!
Long she served Holly Wood, May she come true among converts and traveler (pilgrims)
further in optimism in selfless "Sufism" not "Sophism or Hedonism",
Sin and Boon are all stamped with the sense of Shame, where the guilt is sensed after all!
Not a river dredging and to make a parable to river shifting, as no longer helpful!
Helpful and no longer! For once, try in Pickthall!
For the end of the time and the beginning, too
Time impeccable is Timeless Allah (SWT) and the all-knowing and all!
In time He begets not,
In Time He is free from the need of an obgyn,
of that specialty, departmental.
Hello Palestine,
have you seen the headlines today:
400 US federal workers tendered their resignation over the war, seeking ceasefire. And a Vietnam war veteran donated his pension to Palestine relief fund. Also at Brandeis the president was sacked for violating US Constitution, and was seen packing back to a Kibbutz near Gaza. Send them back, I say, to disallow infecting American democracy such. Palestine will never be free when those scoundrels have the upper hands.
And this just came in, sky over Gaza is clearing, the mist is gone and plenty of sunshine for the foreseeable future, enough to bring the birds out again, singing to the tune of Glorious Palestine, from river to the sea, this holy land shall always be free from the smug of racists and supremacists, clinging to their dystopia of land without Palestinians. Their days are numbered and nightmare is over, hello freedom, hello justice's return after the snub of cold shoulder for a generation.
Gaza cafes are now open again, markets filled with fresh fruit, and children playing with new toys donated from good will citizens of Tel Aviv and East Jerusalem. It is good to live free again.
In Jerusalem, Bnei Brak, Kefar Chabad
everywhere, little huts, though no sod
Miniature tabernacles, laden with flowers
fruits, vegetation, pretty decorations
The Fall Harvest Festival, Sukkot, has come
Jews live in these huts seven days
Though not when it rains (We're not that dumb)
A celebration where we invite one and all
to join us for a rousing 'L'Chayim'
~ sung on the wings of 'a bissel' alcohol
__________________________________________________
Notes: Bnei Brak is a very religious suburb of Tel Aviv, Israel
Kefar Chabad is village of Luba Chassidim in Israel
L'Chayim means 'To Life!'
'a bissel' means 'a little' in Yiddish
Derrick Greaves once visited Tel Aviv
in the desert found a vivid motif
Creating inspiration so fine
into unique silhouette,colour & line
Were it in Haifa, one could understand
or Tel Aviv by the shoreline, let ‘em pound sand
But in Holy Jerusalem, a ‘gay pride parade’ ~
one is forced to conclude, there’s nothing sacred
There I was in Tel Aviv
on my way to work
Sweltering Middle-East sun
a most unwelcome perk
December morning's
dusty, choking heat
creaky, crowded buses
melting asphalt streets
Yet as I walked the final
blocks to my daily grind
I found myself a-humming
season's songs in mind:
'Silver Bells' and 'Silent Night'
the words seeped from my lips
Was I in the 'Jewish State'
~ or had my brain played tricks
The fifth night of Chanukah
never falls on the Sabbath
This is a sign of great darkness
That is why, wherever a Jew may be
be it New York, Paris, London
Tokyo or Toronto or Tel Aviv
He must light the candles of Chanukah
to pierce that darkness, to
Beam the Spirit of Religious Freedom
Into a world rife with suspicion
struggling with oppression and blight
A World desperate for the Promise of Light
save those tears for the solitude of night
alone in your cold little widow’s bed
when gates open to memories flowing
still shellshocked by the emptiness
of his love suddenly gone
taking comfort in knowing
how it went down all so perfect
in every detail of every moment
how he slipped into the next life
like he was taking off a coat
with dignity and grace
because it didn’t fit anymore
stoic and brave
ready
after all
he was the olympian
ambassador in the first canadian team
tel aviv world paralympics
it was the summer of 1968
today they draped his body
with the national flag
as they carried him away
we stood in awe
saluting our last memory
out the door into forever
and now here lies the olympian
among mere mortals
at the foot of mount olympus
the man
the legend
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
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