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Poems
by Sigal Weissbein Quest in SHUNT
Your
sister
Is
calling you for a duel meal.
With the match of sadness she lights the fire at the stove,
Puts the kettle on.
I can not bare the contempt whistle of the water,
But I forgot- the water is just water.
Suddenly I become deaf, such a surprising disability.
I can not hear but the stormy oil in the pan,
I can not see but the dance of the pinecones,
The wriggling noodles when reached to the boiling heat.
Won't you add salt to my stew?
The
roar of the cut tomato,
The distance between the knife and my hand is so slim.
You stare at me that way, don't stare.
How stronger than me and more fabulous you are.
My brother, I become Tamar, not as endearing as I used to be.
You have turned much stronger than me-
The knife cuts by itself, it is not I who cut.
It is not I being silent.
The
battle is over, my dear,
It is not my sward that is drawn here.
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PHOTOALBUM
At
the right end of the page the seventy's.
It's a hot day. A girl wearing a dress sits on the black cannon
Barrel in the yard at "Lost Sons Memory Hall". Grandfather
stands on one side,
Grand mother on the other. Both smile.
Father is taking a picture. The burning barrel cane between my feet.
On
the left end of the page the eighty's hot day.
A great singer wearing shorts is getting ready for a performance at
The "Lost Sons Memory Hall". Little Daddy is taking pictures.
A girl is asking for an autograph.
Excitement spreads wings and fly.
On
the left corner of the page it's hot.
A photograph not yet taken.
The black cannon was displaced by new grass.
A blue-breast bird spreads wings and fly
Above "Lost Sons Memory Hall"
The burning barrel cane between my feet.
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The
Memory Game
We
play the memory game. She turns over the first card:
Do you remember? At your childhood you used to walk in the send-dunes,
Searching for old shoes, abundant like boats that sailors left in a
storm.
Kinder garden children were throwing send in each other's eyes, swallowing
snails
While you were swallowing insults like sleeping pills. Do you remember?
- No, I don't.
She
turns over a second card:
Do you remember? At your childhood you used to walk in the cactus fields.
Searching for smooth-faced plants lying like road maps, which could
tell a tale.
Kinder garden children were pushing each other to the thorn-bushes,
Staining each other with fruit-blood,
While you were counting scars like lists of war survivors.
Do you remember?
- No, no I don't.
She
turns over a third card:
Do you remember? At your childhood you used to walk among medicine cupboards,
searching for first-aid kits buried like ancient mummies.
Kinder garden children turned blue while swallowing marbles, chewing
papers,
While you were corresponding red scratches like love-letters. Do you
remember?
- No, no, I'm sorry, I don't.
It's
your turn, she says, last card.
I
turn the forth card:
It is my mother's voice.
She lays her hand on my head.
I
do.
I do remember.
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When
Anitra dances
When
Anitra dances,
The sky kites stop flying-
And watch her.
The blanket of clouds crackles like twigs in a bon-fire
She is a nail to the earth,
Earth melts beneath her-
She is burning, Anitra,
She is a furious bush.
Strings of coal she stretches
Between earth and sky.
Anitra,
Shoves the tree-top into the ground,
Shoots the tree-trunk up to the clouds.
Spreads her fingers
Like wings over the sand dunes.
The sand sips her
Like pure water,
Like water of life.
Anitra,
Ties her pelvis to the ground,
She is an Indian sun.
She knows how to listen to earth,
She hears:
'Thou shall return to the earth'
And all is but
Temporary insanity
© Sigal