Eggs

Eggs are meant for boiling.
Eggs are meant for beating.
Eggs are meant for scrambling.
Eggs are meant for frying.
Eggs are meant for gargling.
Eggs are meant for binding.
Eggs are meant for poaching.
Eggs are meant for mixing.
Eggs are meant for devilling.
Eggs are meant for balancing.
Eggs are meant for cholesterolizing.

But eggs were not meant for throwing.
I'd like to keep my coat and car clean,
thank you very much.

Voice

I open my mouth
to speak
But not a word
emerges.

I try again.
This time
I manage to eek out
A tiny squeak.

And the next time
I can actually speak
But in a different voice
From my own.

This voice is deeper.
Hoarser.
More manly.

But I'm a woman.
And I want to sound like one.
I don't want to have people run
at the sound of my voice.
I don't want to feel
the scratchiness.
I don't want to have to
concentrate
In order to awallow.

And I want to sing.

Can I have my voice back?
PLEASE?

Preoccupation

Sometimes
We become so preoccupied with
Braiding the challah
Painting on makeup
Slicing the gefilte fish
Dressing the salad
Grating the potatoes
Shutting the lights
Spicing the chicken
Soaking the beans
Peeling the vegetables
Molding the knaidelach
Spreading the tablecloth
Polishing the silver
Dicing the onions
Taping the switches

That we forget that we should be

Thinking of Shabbos.


A wonderful Shabbos to you all!

Just Fiddlin...

I'm just playing around with the color scheme and header.
I don't like this one, but till I have a chance to change it again (that is, when I decide to procrastinate when I should be marking papers) this is how it'll stay...

So don't be surprised if you see a couple more changes over the next few days!
:)

Obscure

Her name was one of those you'd hear and forget; Chany Klein, Miriam Schwartz or some such obscurity. Actually, there were another three girls with the same name in her school alone. And her name fit her persona; a shy, quiet girl; a wallflower without any distinguishing marks.

She lived in a large house in Flatbush. Her parents were quite wealthy, and she lacked for nothing. Nothing, that is, except what she most needed. Love and attention.

Not that her parents neglected her. Far from it! They were the most loving, doting parents one could find for miles around. And they didn't spoil their children either. They knew how to walk the fine balance between giving and giving too much.
But she was a needy soul. Her lackluster appearance did nothing for her self-esteem.

So she decided to change her appearance. She shed the clothes she had been given by her parents and donned some new ones. Astonishingly different ones. She added some holes to her ears and to other parts of her body, to match the holes in her heart. She would arrive late for Friday night dinner, or neglect to show up at all.

Her parents were pained but were at a loss of what to do. And when her younger sister began to copy her, they felt that something had to be done.

They sent her away to a school. This school was supposed to help her; to bring her back home. But the other students at the school taught her new ways of dress and action. She began with marijuana, and then went on to try out other ways of getting high. Of escaping it all.

And one day, she really did escape it all.

And her family was left to mourn the girl she could have been.

Dedicated to the memory of that girl who never found her place...

Creation

Creation.
A word spoken.
A small, insignificant light
Slowly growing.
Growing.
Expanding.
Creating.
Creation.
A word we cannot begin to understand
For its ramifications
Are too great.
Too great.
Too fantastic.
Too unbelievable.
So we just believe.
And the world is born.

Creation.
A glimmer of a thought.
A small, insignificant cell
Slowly growing.
Growing.
Expanding.
Creating.
Creation.
A concept we cannot begin to understand
For its ramifications
Are too great.
Too great.
Too fantastic.
Too unbelievable.
So we just believe.
And a child is born.

Creation.
A cry heard.
A small, insignificant being
Slowly growing.
Growing.
Expanding.
Creating.
Creation.
An idea we cannot begin to understand
For its ramifications
Are too great.
Too great.
Too fantastic.
Too unbelievable.
So we just believe.
And we are born.

Tragedy

Wow, 30+ comments on Yeshivaworld. Some people really are bored.
So, some people missed the point.
Others are harping on the fact that I'm 25.
Still others assume that my job is well-paying. LOL.
And that my family relationships are perfect.
Some offered brachos; others, their condolences.
I truly hope no one was hurt.
'Twas meant for those looking at others as pitiful creatures to realize that we are not so. I'm not belittling the hurt and pain singles experience. What I am saying is that most of the singles I know, be they 21, 31, 48 or 25; most are not comforted by the fact that others view them as victims of a tragic circumstance.
Does that mean that others shouldn't care? Of course not! Please, continue to make shidduchim, how difficult it may be.
But to paint a life as a tragedy - please. Save that for the episodes described by one of the commenters (may they never occur again).

Way back when in high school
While studying English Lit.
I learned the definition
Of a word that seemed to fit

A sad and unfortunate event
A calamity of major proportions
A disaster way beyond belief
That led to much misfortune

Yet there's been a distortion
Of this word, or so I fear
For I've looked at my life
And note, no calamities are near

Thank G-d, I am quite healthy
I can see out of both eyes
My feet move oh so properly
My hands can fall and rise

I've got a job that I enjoy
My finances are stable
And I thank the Lord that I can still
Put food upon my table

I love my parents and I know
They love me just the same
(Though neither has forgotten
That I still keep their last name)

My siblings' homes are open
For a Shabbos or a rest
And my friends' phone lines are working
Though the times aren't always best

So why's my life a tragedy?
What's the crisis that does thrive?
There are greater disasters
Than a single girl at twenty five.

And yes, I am still hoping
That I'll meet my One someday
And there are times I'm barely coping
And can not do much but pray

But even so, my life is full
Of chessed and good things
With nary a tragedy in sight
On which to mournfully sing.

What To Say?

Years of praying.
Crying.
Looking around at those who have
What you don't.
Wishing mazel to your relatives
While wishing you had mazel
For yourself.
And finally,
An answer to your prayers.
The child you dreamed
You would hold in your arms
Finally seems to be
In your future.
And you're smiling
All the time.
Attend another's simcha
With joy.

But once again
Happiness
Has eluded you.
That baby
You thought was yours
At the last minute
Has been wrenched from
Your womb.

My dearest cousin,
I wish I could
Comfort you
But I don't know how.
So take my tear
And place it near your heart.
Take my hand
And hold it in yours.
Let us weep together.
And pray together.
And maybe
One day
Soon
We both shall merit
True happiness
Together.

:(

I'm feeling really sucky right now.
Someone thinks she's "helping" me, when in reality, she's ruining my life, bit by bit. I can't STAND it anymore! And then she attempts to take her own failings and pin them on me, saying that I do the same. And when I asked her for an example, she scrounged around and couldn't come up with any.
Gosh, life really sucks sometimes, you know?

Decisions...

Life is strange sometimes, you know?
You end up in places you least expected.
Accomplish what you never dreamed possible.
React to situations in ways so not like yourself.
Converse with those you shied away from.
Keep away from those you previously loved.

And just when you thought that your day would be
just fine
staying the way it is
and you're pleased with what you're doing
and how you're doing it
you get a phone call
asking you to make a decision
to change it all around.
And they try to make you feel
as if there are no options
when really,
they were the ones who messed up.
And they try to make you feel guilty
if you don't accept their proposal.

But I LIKE my job
the way it is.
I LIKE my students
and they like me.
Why should I
disappoint
myself and others
for them?

My Heart

my heart goes out to you.
what else can i say?
you're so broken
and i can't help you
because i don't know you.
all i can offer you
is my heart.
please
accept it.

Never Thought...

I never thought I'd be like this.

Sitting at a simchah.
Shmoozing with my sisters-in-law.
Looking about,
I notice my cousin.
Young.
Married right out of high school.
She's bloated.
Sporting a brand new maternity dress.
Cousin #2 hands me her baby.
"Can you hold her for a sec?"
Cousin #3 coos at her little one.
I bang my hand
against my head
In an effort to remove the tension.
They all said it would be like this
but I didn't believe them.
Didn't think I'd join the
quivering masses.

I smile,
stroke the baby on my lap,
And quickly hand her over
to my aunt.
I wish #1 a "Bishaah Tovah"
I take a picture of #3's kid.
Wear a mask
to hide the pain
of uncertainty.

I won't stay like this
But give me this night
to wallow in self pity
and cry my heart out
for what I don't yet have.

Chevron

Walking up the steps
to the cave of our fathers
and mothers.
I look to the right
and see the stage being set.
Hear the tech guy on the mike
chanting
achat, eh, achat, shtayim.
Smell the hooka
as a circle of guys
breathe it all in.
I walk up to a crowd
of pushers.
All wanting the priveledge
of praying at the graves
of those who came before us.
I pass through security.
They take my compact
telling me to come get it
when I leave.
I notice that the cabinet
they place it in
is full of knives.
Guess makeup can be dangerous.
(LOL)
I pray my heart out
in the sweltering heat.
I retrieve my goods
and descend the stairs
stopping midway
to take a seat.
to breathe in the sights.
And to cry for what I've missed.
For what I still miss.

Harachaman Hu Yakim Lanu Es Sukkas David Hanofales...