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Nat Lipstadt Sep 2019
Hineni, Hineni; I’m ready, my lord.”  
(For Evangeline Ruth Hope
)

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”Hineni is Hebrew for “here I am,” and is the response
Abraham gives when God calls on him
to sacrifice his son Isaac. It is also the name of a
prayer of preparation and humility, addressed to God”


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what you do not know
is that this word,
was spoken with a fist beating
a pin into the praying man’s chest

recited daily,
shades of hopeful, reverent resonance,
a shaded resolution, disguised as a quavering variable,
a statement, a questioning, an unsteady surety,
all of the above

this word, rooted in my genetic consciousness,
been ready repeated since my first whispering

was I ten years aged?

first time, full on bowing
on the synagogue floor, not fully understanding or
ready to confess my selfish need for forgiveness,
my forehead resting on my stubbed fingers resting on carpet,
worn thin by my predecessors ancestors,
who now comprehend more, but then, never enough

these same fingers, that write this collective,
                                  Hineni,
a word repeated oft, flavoring of the who
of who I am, a training in soul fracking from
early childhood, its import, powerful beyond
today’s identity revisionist empowering

let me plainly speak, in the original language
taught to me with that other tag along, English,
a lingua franca, a dialect that can never capture
a soul presenting himself in substantiated readiness

for the whatever exists in between
hallelujah and hineni, where the rubber soul
hits the road, stumbling on hands and knees
on a forest path of roots and soil, where sunlight breaks tween
branches, are road signs to look up, look down, look within

I know your name,
Evangeline Ruth Hope
analyzed its components,
cleverly constructed Greek and Hebrew rooted,
bearer of good tidings, following Ruth in, to hope,
you a Moabite in Mormon Utah, preparing
yourself for exposure, practicing humility
unceasingly seeking

good

that is how it should be

cannot translate well enough
what was this gift given to me
learning as a youth, a wanderer, tribal member
where beseeching is second nature,

and accepting personal responsibility fully cardinal,
fiddling prayers while standing unsteady on
the roofs of extreme shakiness

hineni is then but this:
a prideful admission of strength

ready ready ready, here I am,
completely unready for the unknown future foretold,

hineni I know

here I am,
ready or not,
find me so I can be found,
cease, help me cease, my foundering,
confident in my willingness to
find a way


netanel
9/12/19
kain Aug 2019
Please write back
I can't save you
Until Wednesday
But please write
I still have dreams
About seeing you
Sometimes
And it breaks me
I saw you last night
At a Panic! concert
You were hurting
Even there
My mind is reaching out
But I don't think
I can reach you
This time
It's been thirteen days
And I swear
I'll never stop thinking
About your purple hair
And your bands tees
All the reasons
I gave you my number
To begin with
I want to sing to you
With my awful voice
To make you laugh
To draw on your hand
Is all I need
You're beautiful
And funny
And I'm nothing
If not a cliche
I guess that's okay
As long as you are
Still with me somewhere
Things aren't easy but I'm starting to look forward again.
Carl D'Souza Aug 2019
I need
to frequently revise
my principles
for living
a joyful and happy life
so that when challenges come
I’m ready to respond
in a wise way.
kain Jul 2019
Don't you dare
Think that the miles
Matter much
You're my
Cataclysmic
Landslide
And I'll
Never stop
Thinking of you
Your face
Will always
Be in dreams
And there's no time
That when I close
My eyes
You won't be
On my mind
Maybe it's a bit exaggerated, but not by much. I care about her so much. Her hell is so much like mine.
Nadia Apr 2019
Your words echo
Beautiful and violent
Deep within my everything
I ache
Wanting, needing, yearning
Words and feelings
Impossibly out of reach
Thank you
Espresso manic Jul 2019
I found a map:

If you trynna bounce
and make it real high
you must cut the crap
cuz you'll encounter a wall.
It's a ******* trap
its meant to make you turn back.
You can stall, look in the mirror,
and
decide.
Dream big or settle.
Do stay within the stall
or do not. You will fail,
you will **** at what you do.
Decide:
do or do not.
Fall back
or risk your stack.

Must possess the  g u t s
to snap
at the top of the wall.
Make a plan
of action.
This is how the capitalist
rat race game plays out.
Beat fate's narration,
sacrifice your conformist
self, for the cherries of tomorrow.

Dare to dream,
while smoking a habanero
to Marley's mumbling
in a distant galaxy
out of thy life.

No one's sure where this map
leads, but prepare for the worse,
sharpen you swords,
meditate then nap.
Bring snacks,
kick some ***.
Be prepared to figure out your crap.

Wake up slap!
Not an angry poem.
Salmabanu Hatim Jun 2019
It was a quiet, beautiful night,
With death my last fight,
I breathed  my last,
The dice was cast.
Tonight there was a full moon glowing,
The stars were sparkling,
All the Angels around me smiling,
Happy and cheering,
Me, to heaven they were taking.
As the hearse took me to the graveyard.
The city was blazed with lights
And around my soul was a halo of heavenly light.
My grave was already dug,
A beautiful Angel came and gave me a hug,
She whispered softly,"READY."
29/6/2019
Though you are dead your soul can see everything. It never dies
char May 2019
grating leg bark
blinding and smooth
my hair snow is ugly but

my burning pierces your pupils
i comply and i deceive
make my mind up
every night
a different hue you must shine

"you look stunning"
yet i feel like a puzzle
i slot my imperfections into the middle
so he won't see me until he tastes me

get teased
until you pick up three-hundred degrees
as YOU tease until you like who you see

why can he be anything
but i have to recalibrate
before i can celebrate

i will never reach my final form
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