Category: Tribe of Judah
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Day 353 of the war.
Everywhere on the news it’s speaking of Israeli attacks on Hezbollah as though it’s out of the blue. Are people not aware they’ve fired thousands of rockets, missiles, and drones to Israel the last year? That 12 Israeli children were killed on a soccer field in a Hezbollah strike? That Northern Israel has been on …
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POEM: Birthright
Good linens with a fork and knife. We dine
a ritual feast on plates with sour meat.
And next to our inheritance, the wine.
We drink down promises on every street.
Where is your mother’s voice? I heard her praying
as father sprinkled salt upon the bread.
What did He tell you, child of violent …
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Day 315 of the war.
Parshat Vaetchanan: this marks 29 years exactly since my bat mitzvah. I opened the haftarah in the Sefaria app and I was able to chant the whole thing without any trouble (it’s the only haftarah I can chant, though I like to think I’d recognize most of the trope melodies outside of the one portion …
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Day 301 of the war.
We don’t know when the Iranian missiles will come, let alone the ones from Hizbullah up north, but we expect it sometime in the next few days. My own humble guess is tonight, late, because it’s Shabbat. They love to attack during a holiday, when a large portion of Israel won’t be accessing their phones …
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POEM: Underground
My dog plays in the garden
The phone rings out a sound
I’ve left the door ajar too long
and they are underground.
I organize the bookshelves
the soft and leatherbound
and smile in silence in my home
as they are underground.
I dress in soft pajamas
with laundry strewn around
and I ignore each …
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Day 85 of the war.
Last Shabbat of 2023. In the past year, I have changed in unexpected ways I’m unable to verbalize, which is a new phenomenon for me in English. I always know what to say, given some time, even when the circumstances are difficult. I suppose I never encountered something as hard as this, because I’ve spent …
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Day 36 of the war.
4am and I still cannot sleep. Same as almost every night this last month. I think about the children tortured and murdered on 7 October. I think about the children kidnapped. Are they in an underground place with no windows? If we cannot find them for months, will they live all that time without seeing …
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POEM: An Interview
Where does the truth go when you speak?
Is it hiding in shelters, breathing and waiting
as strange feet step inside a home?
Did you set it on fire? Has it suffocated
from smoke still breaching down below?
Did you send it lower, down a ladder,
through a spider’s web of concrete walls,
and bury …
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Day 23 of the war.
It’s difficult to focus on anything these days for long.
They say He neither slumbers nor sleeps, our guardian of Israel. Well, Hashem: neither do I these days.
I’ve found refuge in (mostly) light-hearted books and in music. When I sing or listen to a song, I’m not focusing on anything but the music and …
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Day 15 of the war.
I’ve started going out a very little bit. It’s been a few days since we’ve had a siren. I expect more in future, considering the IDF’s plans. If they can finish Hamas, hopefully it will be worth it.
I am confused that it’s been more than two weeks. It feels like five days. It also …
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Day 10 of the war.
How was my day? Well. Mostly I’m numb and I’m going by rote and I’m clinging to what I’ve learned, over many years, about staying safe.
Yesterday, I got upset with a courier delivering my groceries. All groceries were meant to be no-contact, which was advertised when I ordered. And I wrote detailed instructions how …
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Day 2 of the war.
Listen, please, as I tell you about my day. I live in the Abu Tor neighborhood of Jerusalem, which is a mixed neighborhood of Jews, Arabs, and Christians. In the past I’ve never had a problem one-on-one with neighbors, but there are a number of issues. In no small part, it’s about the neighbors a …
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POEM: A Life Ruined by the Water Company
They moved the garbage bins five houses down
and uprooted every brick on our street
burying water pipes under the bricks
sending the spring water to our sinks.
No one asked me about moving the trash bins
and no one has told them to move them back.
So is this life now?
Five houses down! …
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POEM: The Price
God says the price of freedom is blood
in the water and plague in the home and livestock
laying dead in the field and boils
on skin and frogs running wild and pestilence
locusts that herald a wave of famine
and cover the skies with hail and fire
and strangle their days with darkness.
And …
