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Noah Abrahams Poem
I
The thunder purrs like a lion waiting in its den,
The lightning, that doth split open the sky
Like heavenly spires, through the still,
And fragile night.
Like a wail, a cry for help upon the wind
I fear I hear,
But I lie in bed, and do nothing.
II
Rain.
The patter of angel’s tears upon my window,
Smattering on the pane like the knocking on a door
Or the ticking of a clock.
Time is up, it says.
My time?
Perhaps I have some role yet to play,
As I lie in bed, and do nothing.
III
Shattering glass splinters the otherwise tranquil night.
In the distance,
A baby’s shrill cry pierces the silence.
The storm has now passed,
Yet the chill remains.
A shout, much closer to home – a cry of pain.
And I lie in bed and do nothing.
IV
Something is burning, on the wind I do smell it.
The scent, akin to a martyr’s pyre, the glow rising as the sunset,
Heavy upon the horizon.
A great shriek, like the wailing of a banshee invades my senses.
More soon join the throng – too many more.
The burning, the shattering, the screaming – torment and fright.
Yet I lie in bed, and do nothing.
V
A knight may use a weapon of fire in the defence of the innocent,
But only a knave will use that weapon to kill.
And now, as death invades the still air, the night is filled with darkness.
The desperate cries, like the startled raven’s call, cry out
In search of justice, as though there were justice to be found.
Finally, all falls silent, like a hushed whisper in the dark.
But I just lie in bed, and do nothing.
I did nothing.
Copyright © Noah Abrahams | Year Posted 2017
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Noah Abrahams Poem
He says we are the Chosen
His children, Our Saviour
The Family – one and all.
He says we are the Chosen
And we’ll always answer his call
He says we are the Chosen
And tells us the time will come
“A for time us, my little ones,”
To the heartbeat of the One
We are sons and daughters,
Brothers and sisters,
True or eye and
Brave at heart
Willing to do what must be done
In answer of the One
He says he is the Chosen Son
And that a new world will rise
A time of war, a time of fear
But a blessing in disguise
“Helter Skelter” he cries, “Helter Skelter.
Helter Skelter”
Upon the world the war will come
The fires will rage and die
Across the world we’ll lead the way
The bright, the true and tried
The children that come at you with knives
Are your children, not mine
And in the coming of the new world
Upon them first we’ll dine
He says we are the Chosen
The ones to rule the world
We’ll free the human race by hand
And watch the truth unfurl
One by one they all will see
His grave, His beauty
His righteous majesty.
He says we are the Chosen
On this true and righteous path
He says we are the Chosen
Better than them by far.
“Helter Skelter” he cries, “Helter Skelter.
Helter Skelter”
From the bottomless pit we’ll rise
A thousand years gone past
Once ‘blackie’ has ruined the world
We’ll hear their desperate cries
Beyond mortality we will be
And teach ‘blackie’ how it’s done
But them down like amputees
But them one by one
For he says we are the Chosen
And Helter Skelter we’ll bring
He says we are the Chosen
And this is what we sing
A murder here, a killing there
It matters not to us
For all is far in love and war
And we are the Chosen Ones
Copyright © Noah Abrahams | Year Posted 2017
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Noah Abrahams Poem
The bulb should have burned out long ago –
But still it burned, its feeble frame
Still clinging to life.
The light that illuminated the room was hazy;
As though the bulb were a candle,
Flickering faintly in a dark cave.
Ink sat in its inkwell, fresh
As the day it was poured; the brush bone dry;
The paper, brittle as porcelain – forgotten.
The ancient walls kept out all natural light, it was just
The bulb and its dim orange huse
Causing a weak shimmer off of stray plates and glasses;
Set upon the table, still waiting for the vening meal
That never came.
Ominously, the old wood creaked in the quiet breeze
Let in by a crack through the door
The silent echo was deafening, eerie in the morning light
The brought all to life
Except the empty house and its empty rooms
The house
With its empty walls, its creaking door, its burning bulb –
It waits.
For what, none can say.
But it will continue to wait, so long as time keeps moving.
It waits in vain however, for it will forever remain empty
Its occupants are never coming home.
Copyright © Noah Abrahams | Year Posted 2017
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Noah Abrahams Poem
They come with knives.
They come with guns.
They come with darkness in their hearts
and the rage of a thousand suns.
Their words are harsh
– language unknown.
They usher us, rouse us, move us alone
– to where, we do not know.
We go with nothing, we go with fear
– we go with home behind, and cattle cars drawing near.
Shots ring out
– One.
Two.
Three.
My uncle is shot dead, but we keep moving
not looking at whom did the deed.
Later, much later, black chimneys loom, like dark
ghostly tendrils against the sky.
We do not know we are about to die.
Copyright © Noah Abrahams | Year Posted 2017
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Noah Abrahams Poem
In praise of Elohim, the shofar sounds,
Its ancient call, our hearts resound.
A trumpet's blast, a sacred song,
To Adonai Tzva’ot, our voices raise so strong.
With every note, our spirits soar,
To the heavens, we implore.
The shofar's echo, pure and sweet,
In worship, at the feet of Shaddai, we meet.
In awe, we stand, our souls aligned,
With faith and love, our hearts entwined.
Praising HaShem with shofar's grace,
In this sacred, holy space.
So let the shofar's voice proclaim,
The glory of El Elyon mighty name.
In praise of El Roi, we stand as one,
With shofar's call, our song is sung.
Copyright © Noah Abrahams | Year Posted 2024
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Noah Abrahams Poem
In whispers of the breeze and gentle touch of light,
G-d's presence not in heavens, but in hearts takes flight.
In the bonds we share, in love's sweet embrace,
Divinity's grace, we all can embrace.
Not in distant realms or realms beyond the skies,
But in the twinkle of a child's joyful eyes.
In laughter with friends on a starry night,
G-d's essence glows, an eternal, radiant light.
In a helping hand extended, selflessly given,
In the forgiving words, in the sins forgiven.
In every act of kindness, big or small,
G-d's truest form, in us, does enthral.
In the tranquil moments when the world stands still,
In the hush of dawn, on a tranquil hill.
In the whispered secrets shared with trust,
G-d's presence, in these, is a sacred must.
So seek not the divine in the distant unknown,
For in each other's hearts, G-d's love is shown.
In the tapestry of life, woven thread by thread,
G-d is felt, found, and seen where love is spread.
In whispers of the breeze and gentle touch of light,
G-d's presence not in heavens, but in hearts takes flight.
In the bonds we share, in love's sweet embrace,
Divinity's grace, we all can embrace.
Not in distant realms or realms beyond the skies,
But in the twinkle of a child's joyful eyes.
In laughter with friends on a starry night,
G-d's essence glows, an eternal, radiant light.
In a helping hand extended, selflessly given,
In the forgiving words, in the sins forgiven.
In every act of kindness, big or small,
G-d's truest form, in us, does enthral.
In the tranquil moments when the world stands still,
In the hush of dawn, on a tranquil hill.
In the whispered secrets shared with trust,
G-d's presence, in these, is a sacred must.
So seek not the divine in the distant unknown,
For in each other's hearts, G-d's love is shown.
In the tapestry of life, woven thread by thread,
G-d is felt, found, and seen where love is spread.
Copyright © Noah Abrahams | Year Posted 2024
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