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A SOMBER CELEBRATION
Once again we celebrate a groupthat even most of its members wish wenever had to celebrate, wish there wasno need for, wish the very conceptof war was never realized or imagined.You have to pause and wonder why Godin his or her infinite wisdom allowedCain to kill Abel, allowed the seedsof greed to take purchase in…
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COLOURS
We hunted him as a stagacross his fields, trophywe called him red man,color of Ares, godssacrificed on our altar,his rivers run with his spirit.I am whitebereft of color,barren, a glarea desert stripped of life.It is I who wearCain’s mark, pluckedfrom the gardenthe sweet taste fadesmy lips are dry.You are blackan amalgam, greenof the grasses in…
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COLORS
We hunted him as a trophy stag across his fields. We called him red man, color of Ares, gods sacrificed on our altar. His rivers run with his spirit. I am white bereft of color, barren, a glare, a dessert stripped of life. It is I who wears Cain’s mark, plucked from the garden the…
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GENESIS
Cain slew Abel in a moment of anger, a crime of passion would be his defense today. We can only imagine what Isaac might have done to Ishmael, had Hagar not been sent off by Abraham, after all he was a child who saw the knife first hand and helped sacrifice the thicketed ram. Joseph…
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MARKED
The oddest thing about being Buddhist is what I once was, and not just in a prior life. Born, it turns out, and adopted into a secular Jewish family, I must still be Jewish even if I might have lapsed back to secularity, they say, because my Jewishness is a mark, Cain-like it seems, though…
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an old writer and his words 