The Path to a Healing Heart

Found a CD that I'd had for ages. Finally put it in the tray weird - thought it was Deep Forest in full - complete. It wasn't. Just shards and scraps of what was once the whole CD. It must have been the burning software at the time. Hm. So now I have a CD filled with parts of Deep Forest and a whole bunch of other anonymous tracks that I must've added to the playlist to fill up the blank CD at the time. I never look at the words or titles I just know the songs by length and tune. But this was years ago and so will be uploading the tracks for a communal identifying session on YouTube. Hopefully the names will emerge and fill in the blanks. It's pretty good music.

Paring down and back Cutting through once again Sifting the bags the boxes in the bedroom called *storage*. Been living in transition now for how long? Seems to be coming on 6 years. Since making the resolution to move I've packed away the essentials. Books, dishes, material and craft items. Stocks of a life to be. Combined with the present life I lead. This makes for a jumbled environment when I need a sheet or just a pair of socks. Though it's down to a science, left, right, south and north I know my directions. Every so often I pull out a box and just pare that one down. Today it was the box of bags. Over the shoulder messenger bags. Out. Small duffle - out. A microphone that won't work with my pc and a set of speakers - out. All to a good cause. If one should happen. I'd like to get to the point where I have one box of each necessity. One for clothes One for kitchenware One of crafts One of books One of electronics and one of the items that I use to heal with - see ...

in Britain: Night-shining clouds light up dark skies of Britain in China: Freak Beijing storm turns day into night

Last year a neighbor cut down the tree in front of my house. Why, you may ask. I asked too. He just said, rather icily that it was because of *snakes*. But I reasoned, is not the entire surrounding area filled with tall grasses and thorns? Why single out one, lone, young tree to chop down on the property I rent? The first time it happened, last year, I was heartbroken. I couldn't calm down. It was a Shabbat morning - the aftermath - that I found out by looking out my window and noticing a bare spot where green once was. I asked the *neighbors* who came and went about their business on that day last year. All I got was stares and shrugs. The day after, this *neighbor* confessed adding - *the whole thing needs to burn down* in typical Achuzam fashion, I might add. What? He is old. Finds me strange. Maybe alluring strange. And this is entertainment when there's nothing else for him to scope out. Free people tv. So he carved a little niche where he sits and waits for me to appear, ...

You and your damnation It’s beyond explanation I’m in a state of exasperation Where your acts are of castration Defying creation Breaking down cutting down Destroying our holy nation So sick of your ways of destruction I will not take part in your commotion In your party of hatred Where nothing is sacred And the bottom line is gain And total annihilation Killing for the allure Phony, and sick you conjure For your power we endure It’s for greed, guts and gore Nothing more Missiles twisted ballisted Names for killing listed And bones of your sisters Screaming out but you missed it Where you sit That’s just it your corner Of prejudicial shit In a state of confusion Sacrificial lamb of diffusion Keeping up visions of illusion Your namesake is dis-soul-ution Your final solution Absent heart and soul so amiss In your sphere its love you dismiss The mockery and malice when you don a tallis In blasphemy You write your history In infamy Idolatry Into the ages Disregarding our sages As we squi...

In seclusion and semi-hermitage for over 30 years. Sometimes I speak Sometimes I remain without speaking for long periods of time. I own a phone but it remains disconnected most of the time My communication with the world is via this venue and sometimes face to face when I have no choice but to venture out into the world at large Right now I am again in seclusion and words do not pass my lips it hurts to speak or it feels unnecessary or it just is too much noise in an all ready noisy situation called life. Cacophony I have used up all my collect calls Open lines are short and to the point My ears receive My eyes receive It is only my mouth that is shut off Still, silence breathes in for me when words have and are failing. Slicha.

Psalms Chapter 126 A Song of Ascents. When the LORD brought back those that returned to Zion, we were like unto them that dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing; then said they among the nations: 'The LORD hath done great things with these.' The LORD hath done great things with us; we are rejoiced. Turn our captivity, O LORD, as the streams in the dry land. They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. Though he goeth on his way weeping that beareth the measure of seed, he shall come home with joy, bearing his sheaves.

"You expected much, but see, it turned out to be little. What you brought home, I blew away. Why?" declares the LORD Almighty. "Because of my house, which remains a ruin, while each of you is busy with his own house." Haggai 1:9

Moving through the dashes specks and commas thick but small, breathing spaces between the letters and lines Here a knot there a dot in between a punch to stop exhalation landmarks entwined with landmines The oomph and the bombastic the words to fly by to chug up a ladder with and slide down a chute from Mix and shift, toss and pitch juggle them see where they land - the groans within syllables - each a spurt of last days sighings Here now - dust tomorrow they speak volumes of wobbling and flight crashing and clawing The innards of a life meanderings soft boiled hard and hardy escaping the flash pan with a question mark Bobbing near the i like a life saver or a fish hook whichever happens to be its reflection.

Shavuot today Receiving Counting Moving forward Moving up Gifts, bounty, knowledge wisdom and understanding in gratitude offered First fruits I try to remember how it was in my childhood, this holiday it doesn't come to me Not even a flash Complete segments wiped clean from the recesses I know that I felt profound sadness this morning as I prayed. And just kept crying About the morning, a complete day without Jesse. My heart is filled with sorrow being in this position of burying him, being here, fixing my family's generational trauma and the weight of it all just so heavy on my shoulders. Probably too, the gifts would be heavy too, and too much for one person to carry by herself. When did the bough break When did it stop being good and easy and fun and joyous? At which juncture in life did it happen? What wrong turn? I miss Jesse. There is a void. Buried under the pomegranate Facing Jerusalem. I would like to know how is soul is faring. For so much suffering surely there has b...

ברוך אתה ה' א‑לוהינו מלך העולם, דיין האמת. ‏ Transliteration: Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha'olam, dayan ha-emet. Translation: "Blessed are You, LORD, our God, King of the universe, the True Judge."

Maybe the worst night of my life. The electricity suddenly went off at 11 The fan dying with it The heat unbearable In uninsulated walls and ceiling No movement Candles lit Attempts to sleep in black Hot and unmoving hard to do I twist – run for water Douse Go to refrigerator Eat Lie down once again Count the moments till Morning Then the emissions begin From the various burning Stations around this area Which is it this time? The garbage dump across the street? The petrochemical plants in Ashdod? The chemical plant in Beer Sheva? The bio-tech research places dotted Along the highway going south? Or maybe the ones going north? Maybe it’s the Bedouins looking for An easy way to make money And kill us all slowly at the same Time? Whichever – the processes of burning Begin – first acrid Then nauseating. Then dense. Then thicker. My mouth Lungs Psyche Fill with toxins At 4 am electricity returns With my fan sputtering up Into existance. I attempt to sleep Sleep doesn’t come Awake at 8 some...

Thank you. To my angels. I can't do this Without you. May Hashem bless you Keep you Shelter you Shine his countenance upon you. All ways. Always. Thank you.

I have been living here in the Northern Negev for the past year and a half. The weeds and thorns now are very high. There is barely a place to enter through. Since moving here I have been honored with stoning, having TNT thrown at me broken limbs, viral pneumonia, a concussion caused by hitting my head due to heat exhaustion and missile attacks from Gaza which is across the fields. I have endured this only with God and his angels who come in various guises. There is a reason for this suffering. Know. There is a reason. And through the knowing there will come understanding and through the understanding there will come wisdom and through wisdom will come forgiveness. And rivers of joy will flow once more.

One of the rare photographs of my *youth* taken by my father as he visited me in Israel - this taken in Jerusalem near the giant menorah. At this point, I am clinically depressed, having gone through numerous molestations by various individuals, daily emotional and verbal abuses at home, living in poverty, dropped out of school in the 9th grade and my life as a runaway begun. This is before going back to the States where I ran away big time across America at 15 when I was captured and forced to go back to Israel. My father then saw me off at JFK crying and telling me how sorry he was. I arrived, 16 back to my mother who promptly told me she didn't want me. I began then to focus on dying. I spent a year doing that in all forms imaginable till I was hospitalized weighing 80 pounds with anorexia. Intervention 6 months later, after truth serum injections left me black and blue, mother released me from children's hospital with threats against the hospital for using me as a human exp...

Only son, 4 daughters. Rageaholic father, martyr mother. Valedectorian, semi-genius. Streak of sadism. Did his duty, was honor bound. A foot surgeon, moon watcher snapper of lenses, dark room dweller, ham radio buff, josher with his patients, estranged from his children, divorced from his past, clung to a witch ever after, literally. Long story. He died very badly with gangrene in his spine. He did tell me I was beautiful as he laid in Kings County Hospital when I came to say goodbye.

Held. Backyard of house on Long Island. Merrick Road. This is a time of crazy making. First she loves me. Then she hates me. There is no where to turn. Except inwards. So, I do.

My sister took this photo in Brooklyn behind the apartment house on East 18th Street. The stairs, heavy iron painted red. Shoes red. I am displaced without solace or comfort and the toll is being taken. I have become the family scapegoat and am going down with an implosion that is rocking the complacency of don't tell, don't speak, children to be seen not heard. I hoard food at this point. I regress to infant-like behavior with baby food and bottle. The words *she is being emotionally traumatized* first uttered by those around me. I am taken to my first psychiatrist around this time. Age 8 The psychiatrist conveys to my mother that a dog would be therapeutic after so many losses. Mother takes me to animal shelter where Corky my Border collie is obtained. Later he would be run over while my mother takes him for a rare walk. Injured, he would limp with a lame leg for the rest of his life. It was hard to trust anything or anyone after that.