Archaic Landscape
archaic landscape
gorge itself
to foreign gods
occasional lovers
leaves her unprotected and alone
mothering stones
producing maledictions
vaporising dust to air
mothering stones
producing maledictions
vaporising air to dust
an old lady goes out of her home
she’s walking in circles
walking in circles
always comes back home
land of sweat and honey
land of milk and blood
bored moon redden her long legs
Life withers and rebirth
Life withers and rebirth
Life withers and rebirth
archaic landscape
gorge itself to foreign gods
No world
the world is her home and she knows
every road, every turn, every spot when she looks in the mirror
she see them, million twin sisters
all look the same
same hair, same dress, same smile
tastes become sweeter, colors reduce their range
she likes them all
no dangerous corners, no sharp edges, no threats
the world is her home and it’s beautiful
Springroll
white, see-through skin
wrap around my pinkish, fishy heart
my peanuts idea, green brain
noodles hairs and chicken fears
wrap around and eat me up
wrap around and deep me in a spicy bath
sun will rise up today
love will wash out all sorrow and pain
of chinese dragon and kites that fly high
fly high above the sky
above these hello kitty plates sun will rise up today
love will wash out all sorrow and pain
Ikea
Sunday morning, let’s take the car
Outsmarting traffic, together
like with the big magnets of the universe,
we’re attracted.
passing through a wished life
apples & cinnamon make me think of home, i never had
scrolling through all my private possible rooms
through my imagined childhood,
with the right colours, right tones, right toys
correctly designed, i feel the need,
i miss something i could have had as a kid and didn’t
scrolling through my teenage first nonexisted love.
teenage perfect heart i never broke
student years looks so easily, so beautifully.
and here we are, this young imaginary couple,
building our apricot private house
or getting our city apartment together
outside’s cold but we are warm, cozy on our wooden floor
then we’ll choose our baby’s room
soft light colours glowing soon
we chose his name, her clothes, their lives
we are free and have an excellent taste
us and all the others
now it’s possible
lets go down the stairs to choose the details of our own life
plants and pictures, candles, bedsheets, curtains, lamps, mugs and sweets i share life
i scroll down in life
then it’s time to go to hell
down the stairs we disappear
colours faded, dreams blows out
cartons laying at your sides, find the numbers written down
fight your loved ones
nothing’s left in your heart just the need of small grey sofa
down with morals, down with life
wiped your true self
all you have to do is simply buy
all you want to do is just to die
i scroll down.
Sunday.
Yallah
In the middle of the night i found myself walking in the Champs Elysees of the middle east the wind was blowing hard on my face, wind of change
Cairo, Beirut, i hear voices telling me : ruth, join the revolution
Cairo, Beirut, i hear voices telling me : ruth common and join it
so i went up the mountain to check out if the wind blew up the walls
went up the mountain to have a glimpse on the city of gold
walking barefoot in the gey-ben-hinnom i see souls searching for peace, searching for home but when i opened my eyes there were walls and isolation
hear the bells of the Dormition
this is Jerusalem, city of gold with heart of stone
this is Jerusalem, city of gold with heart of stone
i went up the street of the Via Dolorosa, where a real man knew what suffering was
out of the old city, turn right to zion square, heard a big bomb out of a frigidaire
against: greeks, romans, persians, turkish, british, orthodox, arabs and gays
greeks romans, persians, turkish, british, orthodoxes, arabs and gays
i went back to the city of Tel-Aviv, city of sea, city of sand
met up some young, not innocent people who just want a little change
young, not innocent people they just want to live their lives
young, not innocent people they just want to live their fucking lives
and they don’t want to pay no more for occupation
don’t want to pay no more for setller’s manipulations
don’t want to pay no more for racist education
don’t want to pay no more for leader’s coke & champagne
Cairo, Beirut, Tel-Aviv: now it’s you turn
Cairo, Beirut, Tel-Aviv: take the history in your hands
Cairo, Beirut, Tel-Aviv: the world is looking your way
Cairo, Beirut, Tel-Aviv: yallah make a revolution
yallah make a revolution !
Jesus
in the middle of the night there he was coming knocking on my mother’s doors
the jasmin was climbing wild on the walls
and there he was
the man i love
‘come’ he said and fish reappeared on my plate
his fingers smell of far city’s cultural saloon, soft cigarette’s smell
and whisky pour into tea cups and laughs
butter cakes, fraises, framboises, mûres
waiting for the rain since long ago
his feet mapped this great continent of
his his legs rooted in black forests, wild soil
and his arms hold swards of Charlemagne
come with me
‘come with me’ he said and fish reappeared on my plate t
hey say he walked on water,
the man i love
waiting for rain (since) long ago
i was waiting for rain
in the middle of the night, while i was sleeping, there he was coming knocking on my
mother’s doors
Land of the Free
Aunt Myriam forgot her bag in the bathroom
when she went powder her nose
in the wedding of her neighbor
Aunt Myriam never forget, she never forget
Aunt Myriam works in her living room
building little bombs, little missiles
she can then put in her golden bag
when she goes to the wedding of her neighbor
don't come visit Aunt Myriam without notice!
she would prefer not to hurt a soul, she wants to be free
prefer to live a peaceful life, but she wants to be free
Everyone likes Aunt Myriam in the neighborhood
she walks around smile to all the people
distributes her candies to the children,
she has sweet teeth and she likes to be free
once upon a time she went to see her friend in New-York City
walked for hours and was very impressed
until she saw the statue of liberty and asked herself
'why can't i be free ?'
she would prefer not to hurt a soul, she wants to be free
prefer to live a peaceful life, but she needs to be free
back in the neighborhood
no money and no faith.
she didn't lose time
open the books and started to learn how to build little bombs
she can then put in her golden bag
when she goes to the wedding of her neighbor
she would prefer not to hurt a soul but she wants to be free
prefer to live a peaceful life, but she needs to be free
but the true story is that i never had an Aunt Myriam
never had a simple red spaghetti for lunch
all my aunts had polish names and too much of makeup
didn't seek for freedom, didn't even have a golden bag
to forget in the bathroom when they went powder their nose
in the wedding of their neighbor.
Bomb Bomb Bomb !
Cortelyou road (we shall overcome)
we shall overcome morning like these when lying sun freezes all muscles down
we shall overcome knees and elbows that hurts that much refusing to bent down
we shall overcome eyes that saw too much details, too much dust and now lose their sight and we shall overcome light
we shall overcome blinding days with nothing good to do and nothing good to eat
we shall overcome big cities and wide streets
we shall overcome far mountains, big rivers, wild ocean, nature forces, summers and rain
we shall overcome waiting hours for my man
we shall overcome waste of time
we shall overcome age and time
we shall overcome centers like this one with people inside giving you dangerous comfort
we shall overcome false dreams, long lonely nights of needs
we shall overcome needs and enemies, a broken heart that takes years to recover
we shall overcome love
deep in my heart, i do believe we shall overcome life
we shall overcome life
Nina
between the yellow autumn leaves, i find a last summer light i pick the peach and i stub my teeth, my knives into it
and let the juices drop upon my waiting body
i call home
between the white curls of your beard
i see an ocean, wild
the stars they drill their lights into it
until the bottom of the sea, where i can hear them sing
i call home
you built a fence around my island, around our home
and sailed away
between the white curls of your beard
i see a little boat for me, to run away
i call home
האביב עוד יעלה גם על הלב הזה
האביב עוד יעלה גם על הלב הזה
שולחת אצבעות כואבות אל עבר ניצני בוקר בלאט
אור עולה מן המזרח
צובע עלים בכתום, בתקווה
אביב עוד יעלה גם על הלב הזה
the spring will rise also upon this heart
the spring will rise also upon this heart
sending aching fingers secretly towards morning’s buds
light rises from the east
color the leaves in orange, in hope
the spring will rise also upon this heart
Gaza
Another drop of sand that echoes through a frightened city
the wind washes the salt to the empty shores
no one’s allowed to come closer to breath in
the wind of other places
mother gives birth to her baby only to give it back to the earth,
an earth that get use to be fed with kids blood can never be satisfied
it sends her so-called ‘chosen sons’ to go find this nectar
while the salt keeps drying people’s hearts and mother’s tears
the wind just blows up the fire
Another house that is being demolished in the middle of freighted city
no one hears and no one cares about another kid that being berried in the sand
the sea keeps vomiting salt and nothing more and no one’s even allowed to come
closer to breath in the world
The world keeps drifting UN resolutions no solutions
Israeli bombs cover her sky whenever she shuts her eyes
and lately also when she keeps them open
It’s a prison here and people are suffocating
mothers give birth to their babies only to give them back to the hungry earth
that never get satisfied, opens up to the new people on the block like a prostitute
those people, who are the chosen ones in their own eyes, go to these crazy
bloodthirsty crusades
for more kids blood for more mother’s broken heart
and the city is getting smaller but her cry is muted down
cause the world doesn’t want to hear the world doesn’t want to see
another look of mother filled with fear and agony
The world just keeps drifting UN resolutions no solutions the world keeps drifting UN resolutions no solutions
אפשר לראות את פצצת הנפלם נופלת במרכזה של עיר מאויימת שמנסה להרים ראש ולא מצליחה
נשותיה מולידות ילדים לתוך אדמה רעבה שלא יודעת שובע
אפשר לשמוע נהימותיה בלילות
ובניה הבחורים בעניי עצמם גם הם איבדו את עצמם
והם יוצאים למסעות נוראיים
והאדמה שותקת, מצמיחה חול ולעתים יותר ויותר קרובות גם שריפות איומות
מטוסי קרב ישראלים מאיימים על השמים כל פעם שהיא עוצמת את העיניים
ולעיתים יותר ויותר קרובות גם כשהיא משאירה אותן פקוחות
You can see the ripples of a napalm bomb that fall in a middle of a threatened city
that tries to lift up its head but doesn’t succeed
its women give birth to their babies into a hungry earth
you can hear its hums in the night
and her sons who are the chosen ones in their own eyes,
go to these terrible bloodthirsty crusades
and the earth silent, growing sand
and from time to time terrible fires
The world keeps drifting UN resolutions no solutions
israeli bombs cover her sky whenever she shuts her eyes
and lately also when she keeps them open
Delightful Blindness (hebrew)
delightful blindness, a soft maternal cradle
the sun battles the safety shields
of my room and i win only the bliss of its warmth
my skin plays hide and seek with the shadows
my retina’s muscles filter the injustice
who blindfolded me?
chained me with a heavy chain
of gold, diamond and lace?
sold me a picture of honey and milk
or was it i ?
choosing forever the luxury
just because i can?
I have the privilege not to see the suffering
the misfortune caused by blinds like me
it was me after all
ignoring my own crimes
i am wrapping myself in a peaceful blanket
and go to sleep forever
Imagine
Imagine myself waking up before sunrise, going to a working camp for a whole month long, a whole year long.
being paid 130 dollars a month for 20 hours a day. building, constructing, computers, tablettes and telephone for us to sit in our stupid cafes, with our stinking dogs drinking fucking cappuccino, sharing, commenting, massacre & kittens, feeling ourselves moral kings and moral queens, feeling ourselves so democratic, so beautiful.
Imagine yourself waking up before sunrise, going to a working camp for a whole month long, a whole year long.
being paid 130 dollars a month for 20 hours a day. building, constructing, computers, tablettes and telephone for us to sit in our stupid cafes, with our stinking dogs drinking fucking cappuccino, sharing, commenting, massacre & kittens, feeling ourselves moral kings and moral queens, feeling ourselves so democratic, so beautiful.
Life is Beautiful. Life is Beautiful. Life is Beautiful. Life is Beautiful. Life is Beautiful. Life is Beautiful. Life is Beautiful. Life is Beautiful. Life is Beautiful. Life is Beautiful.