Why not there, but here?

Perhaps one of the reasons I don't live in Israel is that I am afraid I will get caught up in the great sea of reactivity which is so present in the minds of so many Palestinians and Israelis. I'm reasonably convinced that were I there and having to deal with real loss, or the fear of loss, I'd take on all that reactivity myself, and become just another part of the problem, rather than a beacon of clarity and part of some (relative) solution.

It seems to me that living In Israel or Palestine the pressures to put on a cloak of madness in order to stave off the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune and carefully nurtured resentments are immense...I felt the naked of my small pink hairy body in that context, and how, without some suitably insane story about them us, weak strong, protection vulnerability teach them a lesson make them hurt the way they've hurt us to prop me up, the wind would blow me over into Gei ben Hinnom, where I would encounter all my worst fears.

Psychology humour and notes on Therapy

 stage lights come up. person is sitting in a high wingback chair, reading through some notes. there is a long silence asthey rustle through the notes. After two minutes, during which audiences seek for clues, a bell rings OS and the man rises, crosses stage and after a minute returns with another man, offers him the second chair. Again there is a long silence, then the 2nd man begins to speak:

Scene II. They wrestle - actually physically wrestle - on the floor. When one has pinned the other down they rise, adjust their clothing and settle back down in their chairs, breathing heavily.

Scene III. The female client crosses and kisses the therapist. 
__________
therapists rooms should ideally be a metaphor for therapy itself...light, airy, calming, containing, comforting, conscious...how can people do therapy in neon lit dry walled windowless bunkers?
_____________
a clearing in the thicket
____________________

Sign above rubbish bin in psychology block:
Please place your assignments here
________________

Schedule for psychology classes:
Depression: downstairs
Bipolar - Monday - upstairs, Wednesday - downstairs
Suicide (1)
Suicide (2)
Suicide (Final) - please meet on the roof
Paranoid Schizophrenia: Fridays - bomb shelter
Thursdays: bus stop
Happiness/positive psychology: Nirvana Quadrangle
Borderline personality disorder: Side Entrance Gate Four (near perimeter fence)
Narcissistic disorder - met at the one way moirror on the reflective side
_____________________
Psychology lecturer reading out the list of required reading for course

Kanterowitz
Boorstein
Yalom
Pinchasi
___________

If everyone agrees that I am valuable
does that make me valuable?
And if everyone agrees that I am not valuable
does that make me worthless?
How many people have to agree about me for me to agree with them?
And what if one lone voice holds out that I am valuable...
will that be enough to convince me
how does my mechanism of conviction work??

compliance/defiance

______________________

The question in group therapy is: what about me attracts these particular projections of yours? Ande what about you attracts these particular projections of mine? (facebook is a kind of unconscious group therapy with no facilitator)
______________________________
Its one of those delicious paradoxes that Freud
whose work was so subversive and revolutionary
in the context of late 19th/early 20th European "civilization"
insisted that his work become a rigid orthodoxy
from which no deviation was allowed

___________________________________

How can I get to like and respect me? This is the crucial question
Perhaps by a daily practice of detailed and specific self-acknowledgement

___________________________________

Poems 2011- 5771

See also poems 2012 - 5772

For Pessoa

I've had this strange pain in my side
I think G-d is trying to make
a woman out of me

If I had known you
like Adam knew Eve
I would not lie
in the dark and grieve

later
coming through customs
I try to look innocent
despite the fact
that I am
____________
____________

I've often had this fear well up
that I am this liar, living this lie,
and by luck or chance have escaped detection
until now, but my death
and the manner of my death
will expose the length and breath
of my inadequacy for the task
but upon enquiry
as to what will be exposed
and to whom....

what task?
who decides?
___________________

"I was born under the star
of timidity and there's nothing I can do about it...."
so my story goes
early infected by the mono coccus
of self doubt
I have lived my life
suspended over failure

__________________



My poetry is not dead
its just sleeping
_________________

A travellers' prayer:
O Lord, give me the strength to get out of bed

Masa alunkot chozeyr - korbanot (ayin Vayikrah)
sound clip 02 on phone)
_________________

____________________
(Is there a conflict between doing my duty and wanting to write poetry? No)
My duty is to write poetry
_____________
I care so much for my own story
and everything I do is just for my own glory

____________

An Israeli woman soldier
with a gun strap between her breasts:
life and death
in one delightful package

__________
e

Gaza 1987

Nino Rodruigez
lies on the camp bed
white tea shirt, olive green pants
black boots
South American Indian
jet black eyes in his
olive skinned smooth
round moon face
closed now
to shut out the other
smelly sweating presences
and be alone
with the voice of Sting
coming through the walkman headphones:
Cueca Solo
a hot dusty wind
blows through the tent flap
which dances
Ellas Danzan Solas
where are you now ?


you gave me your blessing then
the blessing of a pure orphan heart
on several occasions
and now I long to return the favour
I search for you on the internet
but find no trace
and remain indebted
though you may not have thought on me for years
though you may have left this realm

how I wish to be present
when all the joy and peace
that hides amongst the stars
brings us together again
___________________


I was on the beach
on Australia day
playing cricket with the family
and some other young men
were playing cricket as well
and a ball came flying
and thwacked my wife on the head
“please be careful guys” I smiled, tossing them back the ball,
not wanting any trouble, any trouble at all
why don’t yous piss off back to where you came from mate
said one, and his mates hooted and jeered.
so the next day I sold our house
took my kids out of school
packed our bags
and went back to South Africa
for eighty years
and from there to Lithuania, Latvia, England and Russia
for four hundred years
and from there to Poland and Germany and from
there to Alsace and Babylon
and from there to Israel and Judah
and from there to Mesopotamia
and from there we went back to sperm and egg
and from there to amoeba and algae
and from there to the centre of the big bang
forever and ever
not wanting any trouble, any trouble
at all


(boy o boy was I surprised)


start your day with poetry
modeh ani lefanecha
the courage to put myself out there
a strange wounded creature
or a shining light of perfect imperfection?

Boycott Allah

From mon 24

The words are like pebbles
In a desert
Cool and smooth
Giving the dry mouth
The memory (and meaning)
Of water

Making my piece
With my minor talent
And having no constituency
So to speak of

My dad always told me before starting something new
Its usually helpful to make a poo
(like a new job or going into battle)

Confessions upon my death bed

O i have peed in swimming pools
And looked through keyholes to see my sisters changing
i have laughed when someone tripped and fell clumsily
And asked the gardener to cut down high branches that i was afraid to
Oh i have startled people without meaning to
And without wanting to be been startled
Oh I have written poetry
when I “should have” been earning money
oh I have eaten a burger in secret
and lectured my wife about being a vegetarian
oh I have been most fully fully human
a bundle of thoughts and contradictions
and conditioning

Am i to blame for the universe?

I have two mistresses/lovers i crave
One is balance
And the other is creativity
And these mistresses
Do not always get on with each other
Creativity does not care a fig for balance


a crowd of 14 or 15 year old
boys
roaming from room to room
in a small flat
(the parent not there)
their hands on their genitals
rubbing and coaxing
having pooled their money
and poured over the Star classifieds
enough money for the taxi and fee
several phone calls made
(in themselves hugely exciting)
til' someone agreed to come or send someone
female with breasts and hair down below
uncomprehending and blissfully unashamed
egging each other on
with imprecise descriptions of sexual feats
soon to come
for forty minutes
til it became clear they weren't coming
huge disapointment and secret relief
no on told us
how to be
or what to do with that energy
and no one has told me still

____________


Cultural aquiesence at Emanuel School

Things we've never thought about


Anus al pi hadibur hapnimi
Zerem hamachshavot haayn sofi
Haolim veyordim kegalim bekirbi
Ve ani omed al hachof vetzofeh bahem
legamrei chofshi


I am a mystic masturbator

Hakol min jah
Ki jah hoo hakol

Stralia is a sea of con-sumption
Come on baby i want some want some
leave those electric lights on, lights on

Spring song

The whole world is bursting into song
The cows are lowing for their bobby cows
And even the torturer whistles on his way to work
The news reader smiles with witened teeth
And $200 an hour bonhomie

Have a good christmas
He tells me
And tired of explaining
I dont celebrate christmas
(and weary of pointless reactive debates that swirl round and deplete )
I nod and pass on
Feeling their stong need
To homogonise the world
And distance the other
From the lazy-boy arm chair
Of their universe

Just the right number of australians
Are like cloned programmed robots
Eating their oportos
Dutifully buying their valentines day trinkets
Watching their footy
Getting tipsy at the races
Debriefing with "So i said to her"

Its hard to write poems
About fundamentalist Islam
(should I write that with a capital I or risk having my head cut off?)

As far as the eye can see
Being
As far as the ear can hear
Being
Trapped in the prison of the senses
The world of duality
A friend and threat to me

As far as the eye can see
Trees blossoming
A plastic bag
As far as the ear can hear
Birds chirping
Mosquitoes high pitched drone / whining?

What joy
When i finally accepted
I will never have that
Or that
Or that
And that i never
Needed them
Anyway
__________

I'd like to have another child
to make the world less inimical
by one

The art of Helen Segal III - Heart Shaped World

If you'd like to order any of these once-off unique pieces, or discuss a personalized work with Helen, you can contact her on segalhelenatgmaildotcom

The art of Helen Segal II - Fire and Water

If you'd like to order any of these once-off unique pieces, or discuss a personalized work with Helen, you can contact her on segalhelenatgmaildotcom

The Art of Helen Segal I - Chamsot

My irrepressibly creative sister-in-law, Helen Segal, creates things of beauty out of other peoples building discards. Here are a few examples of chamsot she has created.





Helen is based in San Diego, California. She says of her work: "Seeing the potential for beauty in the most mundane objects is the genesis of the creative process. I know that anything can be transformed from the ordinary into something distinctive. The challenge lies in the transformation. Rising to that challenge is the ultimate in joy, akin in a way to solving a difficult math puzzle or finding just the right word to complete a poem. Very little is abject waste. I save and store all manner of broken bits and pieces, knowing that they will find a home in a creation. Sometimes the object itself speaks to me and gives me a direction. For example, I look at a handful of shells. To some they would resemble imperfect ruined parts of a once upon a time shell. I turn them around in my hand and there I see a shape of a dress as if it is blowing on a clothesline. This shell looks like a pair of old style bloomers and this is a corset. Soon I have a closet of turn of the century clothing. Now I need to make manifest of my interpretation. Thus the creative process continues.

Layers interest me. They tell a story, like a peeling billboard or the flaking levels of an over painted wall. Building layers is a constant source of surprises. If I place down a dried leaf and then layer tissue paper over I’m amazed at the rice paper effect I find. Extrapolating from that I explore multi layers, with each action a reaction, and thus the piece develops itself. Now I am working with shades of purple, building my layers of lavender and violets and then I can suddenly remember a translucent amber mosaic that I stashed away, a perfect color to ‘visit’ amongst the colder tones. I place it over, resin it down and something akin to Baltic amber results… and thus history evolves and I continue on.
The small ‘hamsim’ are fun to make. Each one has its own personality. Made from fragmented glass tile that a friend was ready to throw away; I begin with cardboard, layer with an interesting paper or design, then glue on the 5 shards of glass. Digging through my boxes of damaged costume jewelry, beads, stones, mosaic, buttons and various collectibles I source just the right color or shine to pool together a particular character for that ‘hamsa’. I, then, cut out the shape, paint the back side of the cardboard to resemble a copper plate and then finesse and ‘age’ the piece with a tiny tipped paint brush and oxidized colors.
Color is central to all my art. Influenced by the bold colors of Africa and then Native American and Mexican folk art, I explore the effect colors have on each other to enhance or develop a mood. Color is the tempo of an art sonata. Just the right color hinted at in a small area can make a piece of art sing. Ruminating over the colors I experiment with a few until I find the perfect harmony. Often I have had to remove myself from a piece for a few days. When I come back to it, I can solve its mystery for completion. It feels like magic when it all comes together with just the right combination.

That feeling of knowing that it is done is blissful. The process is intense, sometimes dramatic, at times frustrating and certainly messy. Once whole, I love scanning back and remembering the chaos. I recollect when all the disparate and seemingly uninvolved and isolated pieces lay around close to my fingertips still in their original state of discarded/ unwanted trash form. Only I knew they had potential. I knew that with my ability to manipulate materials I could breathe form and meaning back into them. Watch the process in fast forward speed. See colors, shapes flying miraculously together to form a cohesive whole. The wand has been waved. Sabrina wriggled her nose and chanted a magic spell. The genie granted the wish. Disorder transformed.
I am most fond of making an art piece for somebody in particular. If I have a sense of who they are or what they are like I can make the art to fit. Everyone has an individual style in their dress or the way they like to depict themselves. I can tap into that and create accordingly. From my knowledge of Pilates and postural form I can read people’s bodies and know a great deal about them before they even open their mouths. I use this knowledge as well as my artistic eye to infer beyond. As I work, thinking about the character of the person, the message develops.
An obscure, hard to pronounce word comes to mind. Synesthesia.

Synesthesia (also spelled synæsthesia or synaesthesia, plural synesthesiae or synaesthesiae), from the ancient Greek σύν (syn), "together," and αἴσθησις (aisthēsis), "sensation,"is a neurologically-based condition in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway. People who report such experiences are known as synesthetes. (Definition from Wikipedia)

I mention this as maybe there is a connection here, that the unusual perceptual experience I have with color relating to music, sound and people is thus translatable to art.

Creating is my meditation, a self-induced state of consciousness of a sort. I can take myself into this place and be there for hours without noticing the passing of time. It is solitary, internal and can be deeply satisfying."





If you'd like to order any of these once-off unique pieces, or discuss a personalized work with Helen, you can contact her on segalhelenatgmaildotcom To see more of her work online, go here

Hebrew Poems

See also shirim-ve-tehillim-poems-and-psalms.html

and also bamisaadah-in-resteraunt

and also HaAchbar be cluv Haryeh

היה טוב היה רע
השבוע נגמר
שבת נכנסת
ואני הזויה

______________________

בא נערבב את זה קצת
שבוע שלום ושבת טוב
משה רודן
תפילין כסוג של סטיה מינית
ושחיטה פולחן עכ"ומי אכזרית

___

_______

אם אני לא רואה עברית כמה שבועות

העיניים מתחילות להרגיש משהו מעין חולשה

והן צריכות להיטהר על עיתון עברי או

אריזה ממוצר ישראלי כלשהו

אפילו אם זאת כתבה על עבריין שנהרג מפיצוץ רימון במרכז עפולה

או נשיא שמשמש בשד אשה כמו משמש בשל

לא חשוב
כי לא התוכן העיקר

אלא הצורה

הצדי הצהלי

הפה הפטמתי

העין הערגתי

המם המוצק כמו המותנים של המ"מ שאחריהן הלכתי

שהייתי בין אלף ותף

___________

יושבים עם אלוהים בסלון

הילדים ואנחנו

הוא בן בית אצלינו

________________

בלי סיבה

במסעדה

תקפה אותי

עצבות

חדה

הלקוחות לעסו

הילדים נהנו
ואני לא ידעתי
מה פשר התהום
שלתוכו
צללתי

__________

אני חי בקליפורניה

וזה ממש לא נורה, נורה

גם פה יודעים

לרקוד הורה, הורה

ומרביצים תורה, תורה

להשתמש במטא-

פורה

בכל מקום נמצאת אורה

אורה

_______________

עברית היא רכבת

שמצמידה קרונות מלותיה בסמיכות

לאורך פסי ההיסטוריה

פעם דוהרת

פעם יורדת

לפעמים נואמת

לפעמים מלמלת

תפילה בקיצור

כי ממהרים לצאת

לארץ המובטחת או

לתנור

______________

איזה הוא גיבור?

הכובש את יצרו. לא המשמיד או המבטל את יצרו.

משמע שתהפוך\י את יצרו למוצרים שיש בהם תועלת.