Empathy, Gratitude, Healing, Journeys, Judaism, Miracles, Pain, People, politics, Truth

Kind Words

Thank you

for your words, whether

Kind or not

Matters not

What matters is 

You wrote.

Took me months to look

At the abandoned page 

Empty for years so

I didn’t think to see 

But you wrote, as ever,

Exactly what I needed to hear

From my teacher, my spiritual guide

Through the journey 

The long turning of this decade.

Thank you

For your kind words, you

Once said to me.

And now to you. Thank you.

Courage, Empathy, New Paths, politics, Truth


We call it an “action”

I call it an outlet

A lifesaver, an avenue for pouring out

My energy, my outrage, my conviction

that you must listen to us,

must hear our concerns or

face the dire consequences.

We don’t behead our leaders anymore

The bloodthirsty mob will be satiated

With just your figurative head on a platter

But it will feel the same to you, 

Headless and unloved 

after twenty odd years.

politics, Truth


There’s the earthquake

The sense that history has shifted and

Something terrible has gone terribly

Wrong and what didn’t I do, what

Didn’t we all do to stop it? To stop

The idiot assholes from taking over

Our country in their insane quest to win?

You’ve won now, all right. 

You have what you wished for.

But fuck you if you think we’ll ever

Give you what you want –

You’ll never have our respect  

And you’ll never represent America.

You’re still a joke, riding the shoulders

Of morons.

Courage, Death, Empathy, Heartbreak, Pain, politics, Truth

Amidst the Dying

Amidst the dying 
Courage shines, 
A wounded man cradled 
In his savior’s bloodied arms.

Amidst the grieving
Compassion floods,
A mother comforted 
By uniformed, gentle men.

Amidst the turmoil
Hope arises,
A full-throated call
To return us to sanity.

Amidst the despair
Love abounds,
Bright spotlight shining
On our solidarity, worldwide.

Amidst the lies
Truth rings clear,
United we must stand
Against weapons of hate.

Gratitude, People, politics, Truth


Who wears the pants? Who’s allowed
to have freedom to move, to dance
without fear of exposure
without hands groping, snaking up our skirts
you can’t throw us down across a desk
when we wear pants. Or is it just
more subtle, a sign
of equality, of equal ease and comfort
of equal stature, in our own eyes?
The People’s House 
didn’t allow us to wear pants
until she arrived, and brought
what had been 70 years of freedom
to dress ourselves in slacks
crashing the halls while these Millenials
were babes crying in their cribs.

Don’t tell me she’s the cause,
she’s the Establishment, the root
of the evils she’s been fighting 
longer than you’ve been alive. Just

be glad you live now,
not subjugated in skirts.