Torn between the Sacred and the Profane

When you're torn between the sacred and the profane, and you're not sure which is what then you feel like you're at the crossroads. I know what it is I want, I can see the end zone, the end game if you will. I am at the crossroads of whether to continue to trudge along the parts that may seem easier, even profane, rather than pursue an unusual, bold step forward. I'm well aware of the consequences, but feel compelled to follow what is right in my heart, my soul, to lead. In the end, it is predestined, right or wrong. Some go to the Scriptures for inspiration, often leaving the heavens to determine, but mine is done by freewill alone.
I'm considering moving to something that is accomodating and nearer to my heart, if it all could come together and gel nicely. I want to spend more time closer to the action, closer to the belly of the beast, shall we say, and I can get indispensible experience as a result, or I can continue following my dream, but in a bit more foreign sort of way.
I don't pretend to have the answers, I don't pretend to prejudge the future, but this crossroads leads to me deciding based on my heart, my soul and my gumption. There is little to fear but a sense of deciding the sacred or the profane, and to decide on one, and to dismiss the other is very arbitrary. In the end, I'm already Blessed, so neither is profane.
I want to be where the action is, and that much is clear.
Thank you for all those I've spoken to about this decision.

idle

writer's block is not for the weak of heart
memories fading as swift as the waves
as the ingeniousness of memory
of feelings in waiting
sex is there for the taking
with love patient in waiting
meaning lies in your freewill
lying within the depths of loneliness
and too much idle time
too little to surmise in words
like empty memories of primal instincts
for all is meant to be culminated
consumed by the incomprehensibility
of absysmal repetition

scattered...

Never realized how fun, yet rewarding to revamp your life in a foreign country; in the end, you realize people look out for themselves and their family; that's why seeking these important people out seems to be already predestined. It's important to be cognizant of those you love, and to never turn a blind eye, nor burn a bridge---
Life is too unpredictable, and should never be distracted by life's pitfalls, by those who don't have your best intentions at heart....
Can't wait to have my poetry published sometime soon

A7 Radio's "The Beat" with Ben Bresky (My 2 Poems Included)

http://www.israelnationalnews.com/Radio/News.aspx/1211

Audio: Your Jewish Poetry on the Air!7/21/2009 11:49:00 PM


A7 Radio's "The Beat" with Ben Bresky


Part 1 of our listener submitted poetry slam, including poems on Israeli politics, Judaism, the Holocaust, the 3 Weeks, Tisha B'Av and more. Amazing talent for listeners just like you from Israel and around the world. Including Ashira Malka, Yehezkel Laing, Andrea Kamens, James Van Zijl, Shifra Hoffman, Grant David Newman, Jared Feldschreiber, Malka Grunauer, Daniel Pinner, Crocket Cox, Brandon Marlon, Shmuel Eliyahoo Newman, Josiah Nachshon Vermont and Talia Applebaum.
Discuss this topic in the new Forums Section

Joyce in the Evening

http://www.helium.com/items/1505016-how-to-try-to-write-like-joyce-and-pick-up-a-girl-without-really-trying

One aspect he could not get over was how mothers- single and happily married- were so perfectly fit; usually there may be one or two that caught his eye, but he was amazed by the influx of women were not only beautiful, but pulsating sexuality in every which way. Yet, he was set focused on one this evening he had been eying for a long time.
Sure, he may have had impure thoughts and purposely lingered hopefully with her for the sole intent of being her knight in shining armor, her Romeo.
He had not felt the urge to push any boundaries necessarily, though clearly did not feel the aridness of summer supplanted the joys of spring; the roses were still in bloom. He hoped his wiles would be met with a sudden jolt of spontaneity by her, a kind of knee-jerk reaction to the rustle-bustle craziness and superficial glances consuming his otherwise banal life. He longed to be with her, particularly this evening, this golden opportunity, and felt he would have to earn his stripes to achieve it. The forbidden seemed to be the possible, in his mind anyway. The perilous nature of his actions would mean less than fulfilling such a bold journey. Sex was merely a ruse, an end game to his twisted logic.
"All of my desires, senses have been dried up, nothing makes sense to me anymore," he murmured to himself. The various distractions leading up to this rendezvous were unhelpful at best; from the snide bank tellers who refused to cash his checks to the travel agents who had lost his itineraries, and to the litany of sellers of all levels of social strata.
He felt so within his own thoughts, trapped by his own meaningless banter with himself and to his conscience. He was his own worst enemy, enslaved by his demons. He never experimented with drugs, hard ones any way, didn't like to parlay with alcohol or to plaster tattoos. on his body either.
Fortunately, he was hardly a virgin, often finding his dalliances with those he would soon regrettably soon to forget; it made him even more melancholic than if he had none at all. He cynically convinced himself it was sex alone was what led people to succeed or maybe it was vice versa.
Either way, he always felt comforted by the sense he was in reasonably good health; he was young, giving him the impetus to keep him optimistic about tomorrow. Whatever rut he was in, and there were grounds for feeling less than stellar, he knew he'd hope to find love in this the most of arid of seasons. He was imprisoned yes, but certainly liberated by his sincerest visions and ideals, how ever cracked. Feeling stuffy internally made him ever more clear-sighted (than ever before, really) about his unchecked sexual desires. He was his own brand of a romantic, an intellectual renegade outlaw who hadn't a real place in contemporary culture when poetry is relegated to esoteric college classrooms. In his way, he felt helpless in the ugly face of oppression, for no matter how it sought change, he knew the price of his freedom. This time it was well worth it. Yet, he knew his freedom would be suppressed anyway, and yet he felt the reverse was true about his his sexual awakening, and this he hoped to achieve with this lover.
He adored her smooth, Mediterranean-tanned skin making him feel at peace and also curious about her own desires. Did she want him just as badly? He adored how she exuded confidence in the most self-effacing of ways; it was like she knew what she wanted, but kept it gracefully hidden. So, the anxiety of understanding she was married hardly phased him, if only in the subconscious. In reality, he was a wreck. Nonetheless, he was ready to make his move.

Learn more about this author, Jared Feldschreiber.

some thoughts after reading Warrior: Autobiography of Ariel Sharon

It is easy to think there is no way we can live in an age of great men; too often we are told how to think and to feel, making us feel good momentarily, until we realize we're just being manipulated for personal gain. This may sound cynical, but in reality, are you really going to argue?
I finally finished Warrior: The Autobiography of Ariel Sharon and reevaluated this dire approach. Sharon's definitive account in such stark detail I found most incredible in his 556 page autobiography. Every map-making strategy, every nuanced detail of the region I found both staggering and innovative. It made me realize I basically know nothing about the region; this little swath of land, which extends for a good 280 square miles (can you imagine?) has the holiest of all things; it is also something Ariel Sharon has given his life through war, with hopes of peace and security. I think he is a living King David with epic battles and triumphs, and also someone feared by his enemies and ---even--- by his friends alike.
His bravery is unrivaled and what's remarkable about the book is everything is laid out in such specificity the reader feels as though he is brought along, like a travelogue.
I guess most will say it is the duty for Israelis to go through with what Ariel Sharon has described--- he just happens to be really good at it.
His vile detractors say he is a 'war criminal' even though it was the Christian Arabs (Phalingists) who went ahead to kill Muslims at Sabra and Shatila refugee camps during the 1982 Lebanon War (the PLO had used cities in Lebanon as their playground, and hid behind civilians- sound familiar?); it was Sharon who was implicity blamed for the operations after his commanders told him that the Christians had 'gone too far.' Sharon decided to resign as an an effort to clear the situation and absolve the crimes perpetrated by others. If anything I felt like he was betrayed by these same Lebanese Christians who may have been undermining him all along while he was busy leading the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in hopes to eradicate PLO terror from Beirut, after President Bachir Gemayel's assassination.
Still with me?
Everything in the book is so complex and yet while reading the book it is amazing to consider how it is elucidated so clearly; this is the consummate Zionist and also, amazingly to his critics, as a true man of peace.

He knows his commitment to his family, to his religion and to his country. This is a man who lost his first wife to a car crash (winding up marrying her sister) and lost one of his sons to an accidental suicide, while losing so many of his men as a general.
I look to Ariel Sharon and see the spiritual guiding light of the Jewish people and to Israel; he knows Jews in the Diaspora can't survive without Israel and acknowledges the other way around is just as true.
GBOR, Hebrew for HERO, doesn't really cut it with Sharon; to me he is more like SABA, Hebrew for Grandfather, and Israel will best be served to follow in his tradition. In his epilogue (bear in mind this was written in 1989) he saw the rockets would be reigning down in Ashkelon and Sderot 15-20 years before it happened--- even though it was him remarkably who ordered Israelis out of Gaza in hopes of peace.
I understand how Ariel Sharon, the politician, is seen as a controversial figure for a powerful man holds the burden of failure, but his unquestioned bravery and prescient qualities to protect the Jews and all Israelis, including Arabs from her enemies is witness to greatness.

initial thoughts on the protest in iran

it's very inspiring and tremendous to see this solidarity of a john-lennon style movement--- what I love about it is that it has nothing to do with one candidate or the other--- it's about human freedom, being freed from bondage, a la harriet tubman, frederick douglass, john lennon, martin luther king---it isn't about mussavi or ahmedinijahd any more---
those animals who seek to destroy open and fair protests 'unmasks,' the true nature of the tyrannical relgious regime of the supreme leader;
there is that glimmer of hope, we need to express our solidarity with iranian demonstrators who are yearning to be free