Poems about Life Struggles

Once there was nobody who spent much of his time preoccupied with becoming somebody

Marveling at simplicity
Realizing divinity
A child is alive,
Within, she does hide

I watched my aunt.

She saw me staring.

The etchings on the soft underside of her forearm were as black as the dye she raised to her head.

When she moved her arm, the symbols moved with her.

More than the baby Yearns Does the mother

Dear Brother,
You cradled death
in your arms
where there should have been life

Her photo stares at me dreamy and melancholic
Like golden October leaves against a sunny blue sky.
She bends gently her oval head towards her right shoulder
That carries the anguished burden of the world.

If I would let myself tell you
Where I’ve come and gone
If I would let myself tell you
How far I have run
If I would let myself tell you
Where I now stand
Then maybe you could help me
And tell me you understand

Fill the empty spaces of your heart
The vacant crevices of your soul
With that which completes you
That which enhances the inner peace within you

She has a sign on her wall,
much like The Writing on Wall
saying (as she’s praying):
This too shall pass

Waking up each day
Preparing for the flight
So worried not to lose my grip
So tired of the fight

If she would have been there,
If they would have been awake,
If the world called a nation
Wouldn’t be so full of hate

In her secret, secure moments she loses the bad parts of every story

Waiting for a child is hard . . . recovering from a miscarriage is even harder. But it seems to me that G‑d in His mercy designed the seasons to help us through the healing process . . . and cushion the blow . . .

And so she smiled
As sweet as can be
In the face of the monster
Called reality.

Oh pain! Oh pain! There's something you should know,
Halt now, surrender, and listen to what I say,
Every time you hurt, I only thrive and grow

I walk in my reverie—
In silence and in song—
Open to all possibility,
No hiding space for the wrong

Hi dad, it's me your baby girl
When I came into your life I had hopes and dreams
I hoped for happiness, acceptance and understanding
I hoped for peace, warmth and stability
I hoped you would hold my hand as I grew up...

The torment of misgiving
And its subsequent fate
Reaches me deep inside
And remains disconsolate

Wind how you dare
tease at the grasses
whip at the flag
lowered half-mast

I'm sitting in my hiding place
though I'm not alone.
I feel His presence guiding me,
taking me along.

My mother observes
herself
from above.
Strange that there are two of her.

All my life
I have tottered, fearfully
As if walking on a tightrope
Stretched across a vast chasm
Without a net below to catch me
All my life

Imagine the faces you already know
Imagine the people you'll meet as you grow
Imagine the bodies you'll hold in your arms
Imagine the One whom you'll love and you'll charm

Amid the madness a miracle in Mumbai
A child stands crying in Nariman House

In the city of Mumbai
Jewish bodies die.
In the black heart of hate
Blood pours like spilt paint.

My youth slipped through my fingers
like an air-filled balloon.
Memories pass before me-

To heaven his soul ascended
His mission now ended
The Angels stood
This Tzadik had spent his life, as he should

Rabbi Holtzberg, when I spoke to you on Tuesday / You were so accommodating / "I would never want to be a stranded Jew in India" / Those were your words...

I don't know anyone who can carry on doing something, without being valued, or respected, or appreciated in any way. I don't know anyone who can continually give and never get anything in return...

I’m sitting here
In the sand, on the shore
Beside you, my darling. –

Cupped pearls of pain
Behold a cup of tears; fuller to brim every morrow
lovingly endeared,
by throne of the safe keep; these pearls of pain.

I shall one day be no longer;
I shall be dust one day,
For from dust I came
And there - I shall soon lay.

If you went through the same story
Whoever you may be
There´s still someone out there
Who´ll give you the right key

Tears speak
What words can’t say
Death tears one’s heart
Death tears one’s life

Hear no sound but
The beating like a drum
Of my heart showing me no mercy
As my lungs struggle
To breathe in the thick clouds

Finding the Balance
Hard
Heavy
Intense
We need peace
Head high
Held high

HATE
(Darkness/Death)
Begin with toxic, one-minute falsehoods

Amazed to see stars in your eyes and mine
Truth appears to flicker. I’m going to let it shine.

Tears for you tonight
Your name is Bitterness,
Yet, your sweet song is jubilant!
Tears for you tonight
For your song is joyous

Trudging through ghetto street
hollow stomach, heavy feet
words telling, ‘you have to move’
searching for a scrap of food

Ancient stones please talk to me
and tell me all about your history.
How you've withstood the test of time
through terrible attacks and crimes.
If only you could speak and tell,
the tales of those who upon you fell.

In my loneliest of moments,
when I feel all friends are gone
I look out the window
and see the birds and the colors of the season
and realize

The following poem was written for my Mom who suffers from a connective-tissue disorder know as dermatomyositis. Despite all her struggles she continues to maintain her faith and does her utmost to take care of her family.

It's been a while
A while since I put my fingers to these keys
A while since I expressed my sorrows to the world
This world of chaos and confusion
Time spudders as I sit in my Ralph Lauren sheets

How do I close
this unlocked chamber of longing?
These days are swollen with unspoken meaning.

I wrote this poem shortly after Baruch Refael's birth:

I walk in a room
And nobody's there
I call out your name
And just stand and stare