Yehuda Haim

Our little cosmonaut
Wired to the hilt
On line the way
None of us ever want
Tubes now carrying
The sustenance of life
Intel chips straining
To perform
That which you
Did so much better
All by yourself
Then a single stone
From Lubin a-Sharkia
Rushed you on a flight
From your family
Your people
To a future that will
Always be
Some unfinished
Samarian tapestry
Ready for your brothers and sisters
To pick up and complete

Georgios Tsibouktzaltis

Mount Athos
In the distance
Solitarily set
At the virgin tip
Of Ayion Gros
The Aegean
Washes Akra Pinnes
French Hill
Rises in the centre
Of Jerusalem
Where Derech Ma'aleh Adumim
Takes a turn to the south
Toward Jericho
With a surround
Of gray ledge
Bedrock of strength
Holding more
Than just a city
It was there
That you met
Your apostrophe

Shlomit Binyamin

Some women dance with wolves
You dance with red hot bullets
Your neck punctured
A thigh burrowed deep
All at a bus stop in Ofra
Brave lines of fire
Coming masked to you
From Ein Yabrud
You are first at Hadassah Hospital
The next we know you are out
Is that your gym
Some place to work out
Then rest up for the next round
That will come without warning


We all watched
Your last dance
It was never
A dance of death
Always it was the dance of life
Dolfin Disko
Had so suddenly
Turned into a masquerade
It  was now decorated
To look like a hospital
All the dancers
Were in medical garb
You came in disguise
The neurosurgical patient
Head shaved bald
Your brain fighting
To retain contact
With this one time reality


 I was viewing Anastasiya's
Birthday greetings from Perm
The video and the audio
Were all so clear and close
There she is in the forest
With Yanna and Nikka
Barking and licking
In one sudden second
I had accidentally
Clicked on your photograph
It is in living colour
Turned now to
Silent stone cold death
You are in the apartment
In light filled Tel Aviv
A boyfriend on your right
Holding a glass of vodka
While looking away from you
Your mother on your left
She has her right hand
On your right shoulder
I wish to hear your laughter
The mother whose eyes you had stolen
So very Jewish
All too serious
Yanna and Nikka
Again fill in the background

Sbarro Massacre

 In one crashing instant
A stifling flash explosion
Shatters the thick plate glass windows
Tables and chairs are thrown into the air
Raiya, Mordehai,Chemda,Avraham and Tzila sit together
Tamar is having a Pepsi with her mother Lili from Tbilisi
Tzvi stops in for a slice of pesto
Yocheved seated looks out the window holding her chai
Giora is thinking of Rio de Janeiro
Judith almost ready to return to the States
Tehilla across from Frieda
They have never seen one another before
Michal and Malki step away from the counter
Then they are all
Lying in King George Street
Ripped to pieces on the floor
Their blood splatters onto every surface
A boy's body without a head
His face three metres away on the sidewalk
Pieces of children that have to be collected
A woman with her dress up
Lying on the pavement
She wears no panties
It is Auschwitz in Jerusalem
Nails spiraling into people's eyes
Racing like tracers up arms and into legs
On Sunday everything will be set for fresh pizza

Paris Is Burning

Israel burns
In rue Rabelais
In place of
Shattered glass
Sixty two years later
The enemy is different
The French are the same
Now it is morning
The fire still alight
Rothschild Street
In Rishon L'Tzion
Raced into history
Who will remember
Gary and Vladimir

Soda Pop

Sinai at the mall
In Central Petah Tikva
Sipping on cold soda
While sitting in her stroller
Grandma Ruti
Watches while licking ice cream
The last Monday in May
A summer's night
While still springtime
Mother Chen
Father Lior
Stand nearby
In an instant
A time wall seperates
Sinai and Ruti
From Chen and Lior
As they watch Ruti and Sinai
Blown to pieces
The beating fragrance of life
Gone from them forever


The last embrace
On a bus
Turned into
A fireball
A final long
Kiss of death
Pulling one another
Closer with each
Failing last grasp
Lips fuse
Clothes and flesh burn
We are the ashes
The television
Cannot show you
Even if they
Wished to
Every remnant
Of our lives
Is behind us
Now we are the dust
Blowing across
The Megiddo motor route
On this beautiful June morning

Ruti and Sinai

Nothing Chen and Lior say
Not a word anyone writes
No depiction in a photograph
Tells of the agony
Describes the pain
Shows the loss
That two
Then four
The entire family
One Nation
A single People
Watched disappear
Too fast to grasp
The final instants
Of two lives
At once pulverized
Headless corpses
On a now red pavement

Hero Mommy

Two metres
From her
Daughter Chen
Watches as
Daughter Sinai
Is blown
Out of
This world
Mommy Ruti
Could save
Only one generation
As she embraces death
Holding an ice cream cone
Ruti's and Sinai's genes
Take a new twisted path
Bonding them forever
Petah Tikva
Will never be past
Kibbutz Shfayim
Is where the future begins


At the peripheric
Real deserts begin
Marisa and Adora
Stood as markers
Between the known
And the south night
Where the perforated
Pierced Negev
Once of nominal value
Formed the second
Triangulation of Eretz
Pointing at the Gulf
The Reed Sea beyond


In blood
Of those
On Shabbos
And in blood
Of all who died
Before them
Less than
An eulogium
For the dead
Of Tel Adora

Adora 15 Iyar 5762

Arik and Ya'akov
Were no challenge
Two light skinned Arabs
Intent on killing
With nothing to lose
Danielle lay napping
This Shabbos morning
Her mother's bed
Now a news "crimson"
Katya looking at the painting
A tree on a riverbank in a verdant field
Eternity captured in that final glance
Four Jews dead in 40 minutes
Not bad for a morning's work


Penina's cry
Of your name
Rounds her lips
This 28th of Nisan
In warm Beer'Sheba
Her right palm
Pressing on your
Flag covered coffin
Trying to touch
That which
Is gone
Forever from you
But so very much alive
In your children

Erev Rosh Chodesh Nisan

The dead in numbers
Trigonometric patterns
Upon our memories
Sines cosines tangents
All vectoring into
Our every thought
A Boolean algebra
That never equates
A logarithmic spiral
Traveling at an
Increasing velocity
The polar equation
Explodes outward
Theta equals k log r


Almost Spriing
With beautiful
Morning dew
Covering fields
A bright Sun
Plays off
Desert and sea
On what should be
A country road
In a place with
An Egyptian name
It is Gaza
To the world
Aza to us
Three crew men
Lead the commute
Blown into eternity


Brand new
A gift
From America
Easy to load
Fast action
Good clean spray
CIA trained
It goes everywhere
Ma'ariv Bridge
Derech Petach Tikva
Mifgash HaSteak
The Seafood Market
Across the boulevard
Part of R&D
Jamming after three kills
Was it the gun
Did he have the right ammo
The reason shall be found
After further testing

Jeremy Hotel

Netanya nights
Are full
Of surprises
Gad Machnes Street
All ablaze
Saturday evenings
Where whte gowns
Turn crimson
A baby is murdered
It is so clear and warm
Beneath a moonless sky
With coursing beaches
Forever looking out
On more
Than the Mediterranean

Ahuva Amergi

Your name
In the War
Of Liberation
Waves of terror
Bury all resonance
Gush Katif
A crosshairs spec
In a country
That has no boundaries
Ganei Tal
Opens up
To receive you


Emanuel Junction
In the Shomron
Was but once
Only an intersection
Where single track roads
Met deep in the desert
Now a new thin line
Pushes due East
From Bene Beraq
Into Western Samaria
Ten people died there
On the 27th of Kislev
We will always remember
Such an unfateful year
That started in death
The dead were on their way
Home from the city
Some were police and medics
Others just passing neighbors
Who rushed to help
Or who happened by chance
To be caught in Jewish history
At that moment of our time

Koby's Wadi

In my copy of an old book
With it's smooth leather spine
And calf guarded corners
On once ornate marbelized boards
Printed at Richmond in 1794
You find upon the inside back verso
In a light pencilled hand
"youth is the time
to survey the world"
There are initials
Turn the volume upside down
More initials and a word or name
The beginning and end of
A Collection of All Such Acts...
Are missing forever
Random sections inside
Having been ripped out
You can read part
Of the beginning
But you have to guess
About the end
Near Otrar I looked
At the salt strewn wadis
That had carried water
To the Great Aral Sea
Which our Khazari forefathers
Watched as it receded
A desert heat stealing
The flow under an unmovable Sun
Wadis of another sea
Were beckoning

Heat Is Not A Jewish Problem

The two women
Who will always define
Almaty in my life
Were sitting there
At Lida's kitchen table
Over glasses of hot tea
In the dead still summer
Talking about me
Lida had probably
Been trying to speak
About the important issue
There was talk of poetry
All the great plans
I came into the flat
Seeing Alyona on the left
Her head just clearing
The hanging refrigerator
She was looking at Lida
Lida sitting on the right
Her back to the stove
Looked out the window
Almost as though
She could see the heat
I sat at the center
Looking at both of them
Alyona was relaxed
One of her rare moments
We got to talking
About religion and heat
Lida again complained about it
Alyona said her famous line
We all broke out in laughter
Wit is not a Jewish problem

We Have A Situation

Gandhi was not in the Arab dress
He had once used to repeatedly fool
The finest the British had to offer
When he was just another dirty Arab
Muttering something in halting Arabic
Why they even thought to conquer
A people when they were too lazy
To attempt to learn Hebrew and Arabic
Oh had they such a winning way
Now it was many steps later
Early that warm October morning
While walking down the hallway
Of the red carpeted eighth floor
Of the new Jerusalem Hyatt
He understood their language
As those last three words
Went deep into his brain
What were their lives
In comparison to the life
He had made for himself
Now he was another
Victim of the peace
TerrorIslam had brought
But he will survive even that

Hagiborim Bridge

Three explosions
Broke the calm
Of this Haifa morning
On the 17th of Kislev
A clear blue Sunday
Not soon to be forgotten
If you are outside of Kol Yisroel
The names of our dead
The number of our wounded
Really are of little interest
It was all just another piece of news
Now forever gone
Half remembered
In a distant world it is Ramadan
A break for peace
Thirty days of meditation
At this time of year
Kyrgyzes and Jews
Seated around a table
In a second storey restaurant
Drank of vodka poured
From a white porcelain teapot
Into Bishkeke ribbed chai bowls
The revered memories
Of lineage ancestors
Outpacing a conquest religion


Death hangs
In the afternoon air
Ruppin Interchange
At Romema
Will never be the same
Moments of choices
In so many lives
Nava Sha'anan
Takes on a silence
In the sound of sirens
The Grand Canyon stills
Everyone stops
Whatever they were doing
You look back
At the restaurant
Where you had been
Seated and talking
Just ten minutes before

Peace Now?

How many chances
Of peace
Since September 2000
Are now dead
All of their
Future chances
Will never be
Nobel Peace Prize
A golden trigger
Puffing out
With world sanction
All of our chances

Tomer Mordechai

Near the City of David
You redeemed
Some remnant
Of living Jerusalem
No one will ever know
Whose life you spared
Many people were
There on the streets
That 20th of Nisan
Dancing amongest shadows
You stood firm
Between them
And random bouts
Of tensile eternity


Just a flash
Remnant of sound
Blind crosshair
Burns through
Entry wound
Exit of life
Har Homa
Last light
In a dark sky
Gan Yoshiya
With more
Than layers
Of earth
Ofir Roth
Passed this way

Moment Cafe

A normal
Saturday night
Rehavia District
A normal
Suicide bombing
In Yerushalayim
Are going
To take
Sunday off
All of you
Now in your designer
Zipped black body bags
Lined up on the sidewalk
Along Aza Street
Waiting to get in

Aviya Malka

Death always
Comes suddenly
No matter
How well
It is planned for
Whether we
Are in expectation
It still catches us
As some surprise
When we chose
To live at it's door
We are always
Caught off guard
What did you do
In the nine months
Of your life
It had to have been
As interesting
As Anne Frank's




poems by Lewis B. Sckolnick