Reminiscent

NFG

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You should know
I can’t even listen to New Found Glory
Without thinking of you
And I’ve waited too long
And that snow trip we took
I thought I’d found that someone

That snow trip
Where you took my phone and DJ’d all the way home
The triple date
Where I was made fun of for ordering tea
And in the parking lot
And you pulled me in for a kiss in your passenger seat

You should know
Sometimes I think of you for no reason at all
And at other times, for very specific reasons
When I’m watching hockey
Because you’re still the only girl I’ve seen in nothing but my jersey
Or Dr. Horrible
Because just having you near reminds me, “Heads up, Billy buddy.”

And you should know
I can’t listen to New Found Glory without thinking of you
Now it’s been years since we’ve talked
And I’ve no right to bother you with this
So I’ll just lie in my bed lying to myself about what could’ve been
This is where my head’s at tonight
And it’s all downhill from here

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NFG

An Open Letter To A Past Mistake

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What would you say if I told you that I’ve written about you? Would you like it? Or, would you simply dismiss it as so many others have? … As I once did to you … I’m sorry; I was preoccupied. I didn’t let myself live in the real world. I was stuck in the fantasy I had created for myself in years previous. And now, it’s too late. Isn’t it? Oh, can we go back to the grass that beautiful Shabbat in Jerusalem? I’m so sorry I didn’t make you feel every bit of how beautiful you were, you are. Now that I at least have the words to say, it’s too late. You’ve surpassed me. You’re this wonderful intelligent giant, and I’m but a grasshopper skittering about at your feet. You occasionally look down with a warm smile marveling at my meek existence. And again, I’m sorry for I have self-imposed this silence between us. I think it’s because I feel ashamed for not letting you in. You were my manic pixie dream girl, but this isn’t a Woody Allen movie…

An Open Letter To A Past Mistake

Dear Reader

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Dear Reader,
How do I tell her
That I’ve been chasing her
Ever since high school
But not this
Who she’s become
Who she was then
Not that that was all that great
I mean, she was all that
But I left me high and dry
She moved on into the arms of some other guy
And used me to facilitate
Her hand right into his left
Now I’m boiling over; full of hate
Eyes out the window, contemplating all that is
How do I tell me
That it’s all my fault
Without bending and breaking to the wind
Whispered from her lips
But not this
Who I’ve become
Versus who I was then
Not that I’m worth a shit
Or ever really was, admirable
And I left her just when I’d changed her mind
Knowing it’s my right that I’m right, about this
Her, or my, inevitable lackluster
Disappointment in one or the other
Now I’m welling up; eyes full of tears
Blurring all in sight, setting it all askew
How do I tell the tale
That has transpired
Without betraying
Any of our faults
And all that we’ve become?

 

Dear Reader

The Solstice’s Gentle Whisper

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And when you leave
you’ll have been another mistake
that I made through inaction
through these years
blowing in the breeze
as a dried dead husk
What I will miss the most
as with so many others
is the idea of you
the pillow intimacy
and soft words unsaid
only ever imagined

I need the heat of summer
I need to feel her breeze in my beard
that wisp that taps my shoulder
haunting me through my waking dreams
arousing me to this fever pitch

That gesture you made
as you walked away
like on a hot dry day
being bathed in the sea
an incongruous ebb
amongst the never ceasing flow
Or like the breeze
with the scent of summer flowers
against the torrential showers
whisking about with ease
this last bastion of hope
from the unthreading rope

I need the summer comfort
I need to feel her caress; her breeze
that hand on the back like a salve
unknowingly pushing me onward
despite all this resistance

And when this grows
ever too cold to bear
after summer has left her snare behind
to turn this sanguineous
stream frozen still
with only hapless hope
Will she return
to this land once more
bringing with her
the time when again
hills are verdantly beaming
bright against the sky

The Solstice’s Gentle Whisper

Miriam’s Death

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Someone recently drew a picture of me
When queried, another claimed it looked like Moses
With this I thought, Moshe Rabbeinu
The one to teach and lead the way
The bridge between us and what’s above
Wandering the wilderness to build
A people worthy of the land
But not without its strife
For he lost his Miriam
And saw only the vision of what’s to be
From afar beside the river Jordan

Have I reached the valley’s depth
I’m not sure I can take anymore
I have been left, dumbed and inept
I am lost in the wilderness
There is no road in sight
To the left or the right
I have tumbled, stumbled and fumbled
With every good thing, WHERE IS MY FIGHT
That which will release me of this blight

Or am I to end up as Avihu and Nadav
With these unforgivable mistakes
Will I be left with death in the desert Negev
Bent to the ground to slither with the snakes

Please may I be given the strength to keep this evil at bay
Something to keep it together all along the way

Miriam’s dead to me
I’ve been in the desert
For so long
Will I reach my land
Will I drink the milk
Will I eat the honey
Am I destined to live
Or will I die
Having only seen from afar
That which I’ve been living for

You really were the backbone
For a people all alone
You were the support
For the one that lead the charge
Without you the well’s run dry
Left in our mouths the taste of bitterness
Leaving a patch of Eden behind
It’s just enough to quench this thirst

You were the support for the boy
Who wanted only to love and care
For the one who would be there
Through the highs and lows

Miriam’s Death

Hotel Rooftop, Tel Aviv

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The city’s busy streets
Depleting this meaning
Full of hapless beaming
The energy of many
Theoretically betting
On the strength of this webbing
Binding the once blinded
To the extrasensual

The wind’s stirring
Like hair and leaves in the breeze
And the shifting boughs in the trees
Leaving me shaking at the knees

The water’s ebbing
Its waves in flow
From the undertow
All to prove its worth in show

But this fire burns brighter
From the darkness
It makes the world lighter
Releases the dark from all of this

From the earth, it all comes
Waiting for the day to bring us back
Our bodies and souls it beacons
To relieve us of what we lack

Hotel Rooftop, Tel Aviv

For This, By The Sea

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These are the moments
To which I’d like to return
To cycle back
And revisit in turn
These I will tally
While sailing the sea
On my mind’s galley
I’ll dally away the day

At the shore of this Galilean sea
Your heart you opened to me
That Shabbat in the park
You gifted me your touch
It swept from my mind anything dark
To these memories ever I clutch
On the bus you shared with me your smile
This I’ve thought back on all the while

Years later and we’re talking again
Please let us connect and allow me to stay within
Your head is where I’d like to reside
To live out my days inside

You may not believe all this that I haven’t said
I’m stuck with that which I’ve made, my bed
Well I’d love for you to hear and see
All of this that is really me

I’ll skirt my way around it in rhyme
So you just might see the point in time
I’ve rallied behind this sally
To leave this folly dead in the alley
From this volley I’ll gladly
Carry you through the valley

For This, By The Sea

The Beastly Beauty, This Beautiful Beast

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You’re the beauty
Always dancing through my mind
Shining brightly
Blinding these binding tidings of peace

You’re the beast
Manipulating your clause
The one I like the least
Let’s bring everyone to the cause
Your path has carved east
Let’s do this right, show me your claws!

You’re the beauty and the beast
Always dancing around the fact
Waiting for the great feast
Never willing to act

But you’re chasing these fantasies
Believing their lies
Throwing out your alliances
Ever changing your appearances
Relying on their ever building
Tower upon your weak self-conscious
It’s waiting to crumble
And see you tumble
I anticipate apologies
From out of your mouth to fumble

But for one day, someday
We’ll find this rose someway
Or we’ll find what’s left
Not yet expressed from my chest
Plucked forth per pedal
In protest of my mettle
Against this futile plea for ‘we’
To somehow simply live and be

And still you’re dancing
Still I’m left glancing
Through this entrancing
Window to the past

The Beastly Beauty, This Beautiful Beast

Always

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Always all the right

In all the wrong places

And to too great an extent

It’s always the:

What we could be

What you could be

What I could be

She’s always exactly:

One half:

Everything I could possibly want

-Though I have NO idea what that is

One half:

Everything I don’t need

-Be it crazy or insecure or an attention seeker

I’m always exactly:

One half:

Hopelessly romantic

One half:

Fucking crazy

It’s always the smile. I’m a sucker for a girl in need that laughs at my jokes and has a beautiful smile. It’s always a smile so memorable that it haunts you long after it’s gone. Sometimes it’s the teeth, shown wide and proud. Sometimes it’s the guttural, from the heart, laugh that cannot be contained. Sometimes it’s the dimples and nose wrinkles. Sometimes it’s the accompanying eyes that pull me away in a way to say:

“It’s only me and you right now, in this gaze. And you, you alone, put this smile on my face, this joy in my heart.”

Always

Basements and Benches

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After all you’ve been through
With me helping you through it
We have that basement
If it’s just your brother and sister who know
Or if it’s the entire universe
We have the bench
Whether you’re sick and tired
Or if I’m injured and out of it
We have each other

But that’s not real, not one bit
Reality is that we can’t see a movie on Thanksgiving day
And that one cannot love another at such a young age
The reality, brutal yet true, is that I am crazy
Like the night in the basement
I was locked in, cut off from the world above

Fantasy is what I live for, not reality
Like on Halloween – you a ballerina, me a ‘soul man’
Or after your show, me ‘with’ you at the party
Outside the studio, you crying in my arms
The others just watching and wondering
But I came for support, I was your relief

Reality is: you will always like ‘that’ guy
And I will always love you

Basements and Benches