For Haiti

Even though now it is a different form of suffering. Pain brought upon a damaged nation by the earth itself. My heart bleeds for Haiti.

A country ravaged by tragedy after tragedy. When colonialism finally left her soil, destroyed, impoverished, weak; and tyranny ran its course: water, rock, tectonic plate – all took their turn adding their blows.

 

Haïti, mon pays,
wounded mother I’ll never see.
Ma famille set me free.
Throw my ashes into the sea.

Mes cousins jamais nés
hantent les nuits de Duvalier.
Rien n’arrete nos esprits.
Guns can’t kill what soldiers can’t see.

In the forest we lie hiding,
unmarked graves where flowers grow.
Hear the soldiers angry yelling,
in the river we will go.

Tous les morts-nés forment une armée,
soon we will reclaim the earth.
All the tears and all the bodies
bring about our second birth.

Haïti, never free,
n’aie pas peur de sonner l’alarme.
Tes enfants sont partis,
In those days their blood was still warm

Haiti, by the Arcade Fire

mid-December nostalgia

I am remembering Peterborough today: my first apartment (George Street) – looking out the window at downtown, the snow, the fireplace, and music. The devolution of studying for existentialist philosophy exams into coy suggestion. Hills covered in ice. Red wine and hot coffee.

Lyrics of the day:

Weakened State (Sarah Harmer)

From the minute you saw it
By the time it left my mouth
I knew you wouldn’t want it
But I had to let it out

I saw your smile, and I fell
Now I just can’t believe
There was no knowing deception, underneath

All that time
Did it pass while you were looking back
Waiting?

I asked for the truth, everytime
And now the ugly details
Are stuck in my mind
And there’s a premonition
I keep putting off
And the more time passes
The more i get soft
I’m standing up there in a weakened state
And it’s not great

All that time
Did it pass while you were looking back
Waiting?

Often I’m waiting on the one
That maybe won’t come
Waiting

And I’m not saying anything
You think that I forgot
Cuz I’m not saying anything
But I’m thinking a lot

You Were Here - Sarah Harmer

and a thousand words:

For the first snowy day (while it lasted)

Yedid nefesh

I’ve had this piyyut in my head all week. So, so beautiful.

ידיד נפש אב הרחמן
משוך עבדך אל רצונך
ירוץ עבדך כמו איל
ישתחוה אל מול הדרך
יערב לו ידידותיך
מנפת צוף וכל טעם

הדור נאה זיו העולם
נפשי חולת אהבתך
אנא אל נא רפא נא לה
בהראות לה נעם זיוך
אז תתחזק ותתרפא
והיתה לה שמחת עולם

ותיק יהמו נא רחמיך
וחוסה נא על בן אהובך
כי זה כמה נכסף נכספתי
לראת מהרה בתפארת עזך
אלה חמדה לבי
וחוסה נא ואל תתעלם

הגלה נא ופרש חביבי עלי
את סכת שלומך
תאיר ארץ מכבודך
נגילה ונשמחה בך
מהר אהוב כי בא מועד
וחננו כימי עולם

Beloved of the soul, Compassionate Father, draw Your servant to Your will. Then Your servant will hurry like a hart to bow before Your majesty. To him Your friendship will be sweeter than the dripping of the honeycomb and all taste.

Majestic, beautiful, radiance of the universe my soul is sick for your love. Please O G-d, heal her now by showing her the pleasantness of Your radiance. Then she will be strengthened and healed and eternal gladness will be hers.

All worthy One — may Your mercy be aroused and please take pity on the son of Your beloved, because it is so very long that I have yearned intensely to see the splendor of Your strength, only these my heart desired, so please take pity and do not conceal Yourself.

Please be revealed and spread upon me, my Beloved, the shelter of Your peace that we may rejoice and be glad with You. Hasten, be loved, for the time has come, and show us grace as in days of old.

Notes on an aesthetic (#2)

without words.

 

Notes on an aesthetic (#1)

• loneliness bordering on isolation (self-imposed?)
• a sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach
• colours brighter than seems fitting
• lovesickness tinged by feigned self-sufficiency
• urban decay
• intellectual masturbation
• derelict subway cars
• the anonymous bustle of rush-hour commuters

Yerushalayim sheli (My Jerusalem)

“Abraham loved Sarah, and Sarah bore him Isaac. Abraham loved Isaac, and he loved God. He journeyed to a hill three days from his home, and lifted his sword to kill Isaac, but did not. Instead, he found a ram and sacrificed it on the hill. That hill was Jerusalem.

David loved Saul, and he loved him out of Jerusalem; and he loved the Philistines, and he loved them to the sea. The Israelites loved themselves, until the Assyrians loved them, and the Israelites had to love them back. The Babylonians loved the Israelites out of Jerusalem, and their lovemaking left Jerusalem in ruins, but it was rebuilt. The city is always rebuilt. The Persians loved the Israelites into Jews. And the Greeks loved the Persians, loved them to submission. The Greeks loved themselves. The Syrians loved the Greeks. The Syrians loved the Jews. The Jews loved the Syrians so hard that they became Israelites again and ruled over Jeruslaem.

The Romans loved the Israelites who loved the Romans, and the Romans loved the Israelites until Jerusalem was burning, and until the Israelites were again Jews. The Romans loved themselves into Byzantines. The Persians loved the Byzantines and the Byzantines loved them back, until the Muslims came, and there was no love in Jerusalem.

The Christians, however, were full of love. They adored the Muslims and the Jews, and the Muslims adored the Christians , until they forced them out. The Turks loved the Ayyubids. The Mamelukes loved the Turks. The Ottomans loved the Mamelukes. The British loved the Ottomans. They loved the Jews and the Arabs, and the Jews and the Arabs loved them back until they departed. The Jews loved the Arabs, and the Arabs loved the Jews, and they loved each other into Israelis and Palestinians, and they are loving each other still, mixing their dust together in Jerusalem, opening their bodies to each other in Jerusalem.”

-from Raymond and Hannah, by Stephen Marche

 

.ירושלים שלי, אני מתגגעת לך

My Jerusalem, I miss you.

 

Traces of the Visible

The visual.

A new element.

A picture says a thousand words. Or, sometimes, it says all that cannot be said.

And so. Photographs are added to this record. One at a time.

Today. In keeping with a theme. Songs From a Room.

 

Have you ever felt that way?

Loneliness

This City Never Sleeps (The Eurythmics)

You can hear the sound
Of the underground trains
You know it feels like distant thunder

You know there’s so many people
Living in this house
And don’t even know their names

(I guess it’s just a feeling – in the city)

Walls so thin I can almost
Hear them breathing
And if I listen in
I feel my own heart beating

(I guess it’s just a feeling – in the city)

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) - The Eurythmics