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 is exploding
When you put an end to wars.
in parallel
The cost of human life decreases.
We did not make it right
The gods,
Emotions: Goofy and light are born out of
Suffering Sufis who weave their deaths
And they are hovering like all things
Shiffi makes them a water god.
And the weight of the prayers remains
Talent in the power of color,
The measure of the seventh and the happy are the dreams that come true
The poor.
And there are those who know
Just kill.
And there is no limit to death.
In Netflix, a bunch of sharks looking for prey
One bites into one of the octopus' arms
Pushing his long nose into the hiding place
Coincidentally, there he tried in a panic, grabbing his teeth
The rudeness limbs her body.
Injured, stump,
She shed her blood, a journey of sorrow to her home.
The color turned white, faded.
Her movement
It shrank.
Gathering in itself, doubt
Dying.
Weeks
Later
Slow growth,
re,
arm.
More prey will be preyed upon,
But before you stand
offspring.
The burden, the price, the pain
We are still a computer
And it's 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.
evil
Why God / Nimrod Shane
You have asked me so many questions,
Long live the heavens I know how to dare to face and ask
And you taught me from my youth to find my way
To outside the labyrinths of the underworld;
A test you created for the sages
That they do not enter it anyway.
And rolling their eyes upon thee,
Girls' shirts
In your name or in a new language,
I'm lying better than I am,
You are also taken by your servants
From the remaining innocence,
After the conflict, the siege and the plague.
That everything is done according to your word,
See how the focus is,
I'm laughing at a crazy percentage like a hump
And with their lips they blow dry on the tree,
To hasten the end and the burning.
I wish you had a little mercy for your son,
When the crowd is around throwing a stone at him,
A son full of faith and hatred in your name:
Burn in hell.
Why did you create me, like this,
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 weeping. Darkness.
Three lights are on.There is nothing, a tooth, a child.
It's alright.
The moon floated above my darkened tower, dim and elegant. The last of the clouds was cast.
It's alright.
And the city of Doha is like a spinach-healer in a dark and strange day.
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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