The Cat-Man - A Poem

A little unusually this week, I thought I'd share a poem I wrote a number of years ago that still brings a small smile to my face. Hope you enjoy it.

With final exams and papers all due this week, and an imminent trip to the UK, I suspect I won't have much time to write for Mythic Writing, so expect this to be the last post until January 6th. Have a wonderful new year!


The Cat-Man

There is a man in an empty bus stop
Somewhere in Istanbul,
And all day long, he sits and waits,
And watches with a wary eye
The people that pass him by.

And as the people walk their way,
He hisses like an angry cat
He thuds his head against the glass -
The people jump with surprise and fear,
No one dares walk near.

But in a quiet moment,
When he sat there all alone,
As I passed, I thought I saw
A knowing smile upon his lips,
A smile that said -
“I know which one of us is mad.

Calling from the Heights

Based on a teaching of the Netivot Shalom about this week's torah reading, Mishpatim.

On the heights I called to You
Clung to Your presence and found You waiting,
Wrapped myself deep within the You that is I,
That i that is You,
Immersed, Submerged and Subsumed.

But the moment cannot be sustained.

Every height has its depth,
To every hill a ravine deep and treacherous -
And all things fall.

And in the depths I called to you,
From the valley of death I lifted my voice,
But could not hear You, so loud were my cries in my own ears.

Yet there is a torah of the depths as well as the heights,
Teaching for the fall as well as the rise -
Not given on flaming mountains, thundered through the shofar blast,
but in small voices,
Silent words of solace,
whispered by the wind.

And in the deep I found my rest,
I found my Me that speaks with You.

And when I’m ready to begin once more, I know the mountain will still be there,
Calling from the heights.

The Tales - A Poem

1.
In a dark and brooding night,
Of endless sighs and scorching gales,
The shaman sat in the fire light
And told the ancient tales.

Across his veined and furrowed face
The fire-light danced in glee,
As in a hushed but forceful voice
The shaman spoke to me:

Tales of the Dreamscape - Treasure House - Part 1

The deepest cave in Dreamscape’s shifting land,
Beneath the wondrous home of Duke and consort,
Contains the greatest treasures that the world
Has ever known, or dreamt in midnight hours
When the moon is low, and the stars are free and twinkling
In the cloth of softest night and darkest sky.
Wherever gold has glittered, silver shone,
The cave of dreams is there, gently waiting -
And all your treasures are contained within
Where all desires begin.

And when the wind blows cold from northern climes
With diamond snow from Dreamscape’s farthest shores,
The proud and lordly Duke of Dreams trembles,
Seeks refuge in the cave of ancient trove,
Wandering winding ways among the gems,
That shift their forms as the dreamer lingering stares.
He finds a treasure never seen before,
Inspects it with his bright and piercing gaze -
The choicest prize your mind has deftly wrought,
Is there as solid thought.

Radiance 30 - The first of His works

This week's chapter marks the beginning of the 9th part of Radiance, Chochma/Wisdom. I'm not entirely happy with the shape that this is in at the moment, and I think it needs a lot more work than I was able to give it this week (as I was finishing my time on Noam camp). Hopefully the poem is just a placeholder and will be improved for the next iteration. Thanks for your patience.

22] ‘The Lord brought me forth as the first of His works, before His deeds of old;

23] I was formed long ages ago, at the very beginning, when the world came to be…

27] I was there when He set the heavens in place, when He marked out the horizon on the face of the deep,

28] when He established the clouds above and fixed securely the fountains of the deep,

29] when He gave the sea its boundary so that the waters would not overstep His command, and when He marked out the foundations of the earth.

30] Then I was constantly at His side. I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in His presence,

31] rejoicing in His whole world and delighting in the sons of man.
    -Proverbs 8

    And while the earth shook around him, and the city trembled before the onslaught of the Leviathan, Asher strummed Layla’s nylon strings, letting the beating chords wash over him, filling his soul with their rhythm. And when the pattern struck him, the words tumbled out in their wake, shifting with the music as it cascaded over him like the rising tide.