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Stacey's Blog A couple of rants, a lot of questions and a search for meaning

Stacey's Blog · 1d ago

My Idle Feet Moved

There was no voice,or perhaps a voiceless voice -so soft, small,it could only be heardjust beyond the edgesof hearing.It sang anyway,that voiceless voice.It ran through my bodyand burned my ...
Stacey's Blog · 1W ago

My Name Hides Me - a poem for parashat Shmot

My name hides me;That's why there are so many.I hear them, crying outevery one of my infinite names,though some say there are only 72.Perhaps; I've not bothered to count.Still, names are bin...
Stacey's Blog · 2W ago

The Sum of all my Baggage

Welcome 2018. Happy new year!That said. I've already had my New Year, filled with all the pomp and circumstance that Rosh Hashanah can hold. Except this year, I was a little too preoccupied ...
Stacey's Blog · 3W ago

Hope is the Moon

Hope is the moon seen throughskittering cloudsor leaves that have been dusted by Midas,or maybe by Ms Borgia:all dusty, almost brittle red and gold.It waxes and wanesand hangs smuglyin a cha...
Stacey's Blog · 4W ago

Freedom # Chanukah, fifth night

Once we were slaves, now we are free.I know, I know - wrong holiday. Sue me. That particular phrase, that particular concept is woven deep throughout my everything. Really. I am absolutely a...
Stacey's Blog · 1M ago

The Silver Cup - a poem for parashat Miketz

It is a hard thing, to forgive -Forgiveness lies in the narrow place,in the space between breath,in the quiet and still,overflowing froma tarnished silver cup.
Stacey's Blog · 1M ago

Chanukah Matzo (yes, I said matzo)

The Christmas push is on. Red and green and bits of tinsel are being crammed into an aisle or two in many stores. An almost infinite variety of Christmas wrapping paper is quickly pushing ou...
Stacey's Blog · 1M ago

A Long Line of Dreamers

For Joseph, who dreamed of himselfI come from a long line of dreamers.They dreamed of the desert,that golden swath of duststretching unto foreverThey dreamed of mountains castinglong shadows...
Stacey's Blog · 1M ago

For Dina, who did not speak: a poem for parashat Vayishlach

He says he loves me,and his gazequickens my blood.Hush, he said.His hands moved, rough and callousedagainst my perfume-dusted bodyand my flesh rises to his touch,and he loves me,he says.Wait...
Stacey's Blog · 1M ago

For Esau - for parashat Vayishlach

Thief!Liar and thief!Despite all you stole,I loved you still.I would have given anythingif you’d asked.Instead your shadow smothered my birthright,my heat.Thief!You stole the light of heaven...