Collages: Shlomi Cherka
Tam
Testimony / Orit Gidley
Candy pops on the tongue of the clay,
the unknown swirls around and unknowingly,
we will not collapse for a moment.
It was bad, it was good,
I give up at once on the mistakes,
on all our past for the good of our time together.
Then I let you touch me with the strings of my voice,
to make them weep over them,
then you let me touch the lumps of your childhood,
enough with that.
What a beautiful thing you are,
a quiet silence under the tumult.
You are not a testimony to the one who chooses me.
You are evidence of why.
Orit Gidley, poet and children's author.
Recently published her book "The Twins - Love Songs" (publishing a place for poetry)
smart
Formulas of blood / Shlomi cut
The price of fuel explodes when
wars are ignited.
At
the same time, the price of human life is declining.
The colors: Gaza and Nascular
,
the most of the
smallest regrettable flourishment and the stirring-sective tract
of the material
said.
And the weight of the prayers remains a talent in the power of
color,
the measure of the seventh and the happy are the dreams that are
fulfilled the dreams.
And there are those who only
know how to kill.
And there is no limit to death.
In Netflix, a bunch of sharks looking for prey
One of them bites on one of the octopus' arms and
stuffs his long nose into the accidental hiding
place, where he tried to breathe
a sigh of relief.
Wounded, stumped,
shedding her own blood, a journey of sorrow to her home.
The color turned white, faded.
Its movement has
shrunk.
Gathering in itself, doubt
dying.
After a few
weeks it slowly grew,
renewed,
sown
.
You will devour more prey,
but you will raise offspring
first.
The burden, the price, the pain
are still calculated
and it is time to heal double the
speed
of the human madness.
Shlomi Hatucha, poet.
Presents the poetry program "Brit Milah" at the Israeli Broadcasting Corporation.
He has published three books: "Eastern Moon" in 2015, and
"Continent" and "Island" in 2020
Shlomi Cherka,
evil
Why God / Nimrod Shane
You have asked me so many questions,
that I live in the heavens , I know how to dare face
and ask and teach me from my
youth to my soul.
A test you have created for the sages who do
not enter it anyway.
The perfect
people
of the
people
of
the
hate
That everything is done according to your word,
see how on the stake,
I laugh a crazy percentage like a hump and with their
lips dry ashes
To hasten the end and the burning.
I wish you had a little mercy for your son,
when the crowd around him throws a stone at him,
a sonat full of faith and
joy.
Why did you create me, thus,
God?
The root of all evil.
Nimrod Shane, poet.
His third book,
"As of this writing," is currently
being published by Kibbutz Hameuchad
Who does not know how to ask
Lullaby / Rita Kogan
It's alright.
The streets are empty.
Spring is melting and weeding.
darkness.
Three lights are on.
There is nothing, tooth, child.
It's alright.
The moon sails over a glass
tower, dim and elegant.
The last of the clouds is a burden.
Nothing, friend, drank.
It's alright.
And the city is like a ghost ship
in the time of darkness and stranger.
Come, my love, tell me you,
"There is nothing, you fool, there is nothing."
Rita Cogan, born in St. Petersburg in 1976.
Immigrated
to Israel in 1990.
Lives in Tel Aviv.
Has published two books of poetry: "License for Spelling Errors" and "Horse in a Skirt", and four translation books from the Russian classics.
Her first book of prose, Eretz-Sela, was published in 2021
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