Tuesday, April 28, 2015

from the corridors of evelyn's mind

a couple of days ago i came across the following poem from evelyn amber beltser, and was so moved i simply *had* to translate it:

.ככה זה טוב
ככה זה טוב -
לא פחות
ולא יותר
יותר, יותר, יותר" - ההד של הקיבעון" -
.משוטת במזדרונות של המוח
,אם הייתי בית מלון
המזדרונות האלו היו הקומה הסגורה שלי
.שהמעליות לא מגיעות עליה
.בכל סרט אימה מכובד יש כזאת
,לפעמים אני חושבת שלמרות כל הקירבה
אנחנו כל כך מרוחקים
שאם התודעות שלנו היו כוכבים
עדיין הייתי יושבת פה ומחכה לאור של אחרים

that's good.
that's good -
no less
and no more
- "more, more, more" - an echo of fixation sails through the corridors of my brain.
if i was a hotel,
these corridors would be my sealed floor
that the elevators wouldn't reach.
every respectable horror movie has one.

sometimes i think that despite all the proximity,
we are so far away from each other
that if our minds were the stars
i would still be sitting here waiting for the light of others to arrive.

Saturday, April 18, 2015

21 gunmen salute


this just in: newsreel bullet-ins
showing mugshots and commemorations
while the world passes by on a ticker
focus on guns and films of blood
hyper-real news to reel you in


YOU tell ME who just shot up the room
and who's shooting up with needles prepared with a "threat level" of "doom"
who cares about children with holes punched in their chests
when dead-eyed delinquents get their faces in the press

the holy grail of fifteen minutes of fame
is the press pressuring our youth to show us more of the same
if you want to BE, you have to be on tv
for which you'd better have blood on your hands
so that we can see

the apocalypse is on, the four horsemen run the show
it's prime time now and they've primed everything to blow
we call them illuminati, but it's darkness they spread
we believe in our democracies but instead they dictate straight to our heads of state who relate to us through fox and cnn and bbc
the true terrorist organizations teaching you and me that we should NOT be free

you see, merchants of war are the ones laying down the law
conning chumps into believing terrorists are knocking down their doors
'cause you can't sell guns to people who don't want to fight
who aren't afraid of the sight of their own shadows,
who're not scared into becoming knights so brave that they'll save their loved ones
by holding them hostage,
protecting them from
the psychos next door
bombs and ideologies
conflicting philosophies
from genitalia,
and what genitalia make weak people do
after hearing their whole lives how they have to hide behind beauty products if they want to be loved
how they won't find romance without a hollywood soundtrack
how love can be earned through perseverance
how human beings are like vending machines,
if your coins aren't accepted then you beat them until you get what you want

and how if we don't let an industrial-consumer education lobotomize us, then we can't be heroes

so i choose to become a villain instead,
because i have to be the protagonist in my own head
and when death comes for me i don't want to walk out with best supporting actor
or just another lonely bum with thumbs down from the judges of x-factor
here's god - speaking to me! telling me to smash down american idols
from the mouth of a burning bush,
"we're gonna smoke 'em out," he said
lighting the way to a silenced majority with oil fires and gunpowder

we're a silent majority
sitting slack-jawed and sponge-like on our sofas
stupefied by the songs of slaughter sung in sensationally heartless newscaster tones


maybe - if you work really hard - you'll be able to buy yourself a bigger tv
and then you'll not see with much more clarity
why the gunmen
are you and me