The Swaying Thought of the Sky...and Other Poems
OK, these are not translations of inspiring, classic texts. They are my own poems. I hope you find them inspiring in an unclassical way.
NOTHING IS LEFT
by Yaacov Dovid Shulman
Nothing is left but the black
Door that is not a door, spectral
Shiver that is not a shiver, turning out
The pockets of this sagging rag doll, finding shining
Stones that have attracted dust.
As long as the road is a road,
It cannot lead anywhere. And we stand here,
Stymied (good-hearted people), resolving good-hearted
Deeds and speech clean as bird bones.
But to turn our hearts into a
Crow whose black wings that flap, rising heavily,
Are a terror and the searing, shimmering heat of
Love, whose wings are a frozen
Vacuum of black space without sound
Or breath or light or space--our heart contracts, we
Leap into an abyss, ceasing to exist, we cry.
Please read more poetry, and share it with others: Poetry.pdf
You can contact me at yacovdavid@gmail.com.
NOTHING IS LEFT
by Yaacov Dovid Shulman
Nothing is left but the black
Door that is not a door, spectral
Shiver that is not a shiver, turning out
The pockets of this sagging rag doll, finding shining
Stones that have attracted dust.
As long as the road is a road,
It cannot lead anywhere. And we stand here,
Stymied (good-hearted people), resolving good-hearted
Deeds and speech clean as bird bones.
But to turn our hearts into a
Crow whose black wings that flap, rising heavily,
Are a terror and the searing, shimmering heat of
Love, whose wings are a frozen
Vacuum of black space without sound
Or breath or light or space--our heart contracts, we
Leap into an abyss, ceasing to exist, we cry.
Please read more poetry, and share it with others: Poetry.pdf
You can contact me at yacovdavid@gmail.com.
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