Obverse

Her stern copper face looks down on me,
Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi’s mother?
On closer inspection, can’t help but feel
That this is the Frenchman’s mad brother.

Bearing the torch and tabula ansata,
He invokes the chain of a broken law.
I am enlightened today –
Libertas is male: in shock but not awe.

 

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Jesus Christ: Lost in Translation.

Skendong

Who is Yehoshua Ibn Maryam(and Yosef?)
According to the Orthodox Jewish Bible (OJB).

716px-William-Adolphe_Bouguereau_(1825-1905)_-_The_Flagellation_of_Our_Lord_Jesus_Christ_(1880)

Romans 1 verse 3, 4:

The Good News of Redemption of Hashem concerns the Zun fun Der Oybershter (Ben HaElohim of Hashem) born from the zera Dovid, as far as basar is concerned.
But, as far as the Ruach Hakodesh is concerned, appointed to be Ben HaElohim in power by means of Moshiach’s Techiyah [Resurrection] from HaMesim.

1 Timothy 2 verse 5:

For Adonoi echad hu (there is one G-d) and there is also metavekh echad (one melitz, one between Hashem and kol Bnei Adam, the man Rebbe, Melech HaMoshiach Yehoshua.

Hebrews 7 verse 25:

From which also he is able to completely deliver to the Geulah (Redemption) and Yeshu’at Eloheinu the ones approaching Hashem through him, als (since) he has Chayyei Ein Sof (Endless Life) and always lives to intercede in techinnah (supplication) for them.

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Herbless Pursuit

Skendong

Nearly beat him at
speed chess on 42nd Street

How did you get out of that mess? Sensed defeat
Defenceless king

prostrated
on the worn chequered floor

He said cats hanging out on 9th Avenue
Say Jay sent you and y’all be cool.

II

Along the dilapidation on this Avenue
hustler eye balled while doing his thing

XXX shop on the fringe

whispers
stare ‘Jay’
clicked – all is well

a nod reassures with ease –

III

Hands on a stuffed out genial bag – $25 swell

demand to smell –
make sweat

out the pen –
back against the wall:

eyes gleam red
on rage

IV

Exchange goes through

V

Munching nuts in the Times Square cinema
Sizzling off the reels is Jungle Fever

Plucked
out the pocket

whiffing & this aroma
resembles a pungent parsley.

Bag dashed under the seat &

brooding down the aisle.

VI

In a…

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#captured

it’s lunchtime.

they sit at a small round table waiting for the quenelles de brochets served with sauce mousseline. the restaurant is quiet. the waiter strolls over pleasantly placing meager plates before them.

how beautiful it looks she said. you’re right said her friend as he shoved the android into her chest. now this will look brill on my Instagram he said, take it.

tearing his mouth open wide, porcelain veneers gleaming, she pressed the screen and that fake shutter sound captured the food going cold. the waiter had already walked off.

The Corner Shop

a tale from the city

Skendong

On a deadline I am running to the corner shop. An interesting little outlet. He stands on his feet from dusk till dawn, but it’s not this what astounds me. It’s every time I enter, I discharge information about myself.  And amazingly he seems to know what I want prior to even asking.  Oh, your Rizzla, Vimto and Chocolate Biscuits. He suggests later I will be smoking Skunk, getting thirsty and munching coated biscuits. Like the vagabond who frantically rushed in demanding tin foil for cooking. As he leaves, disheveled, the shopkeeper snaps: grimy bitch. Now he’s going to hit the crack pipe.

Now a resident lady boldly walks in.  She’s about 39. The shopkeeper is acquainted with her too. Its your time of the month isn’t it? Would you like the pads with the wings? Fuck off, she responds. Just give me my cigarettes you nosy bastard! 20 Menthol!…

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grass is always greener in the summertime

Skendong

like a burqua, women
wrapped around his
demeanor, rebels. he
gave the middle finger
saying, grass is always
greener in the summer
time. the sun spurned
this long black Friday.

rabid speculation
death for bethel’s children.
hands, mouth, feet, iron-
bounded. parents
blamed it on one horrid
baby boy. he groomed,
bewitched, excelled, beguiled,
erectly sprouting forth.

mother took for granted
forever will i am: we
miss your energy running
the streets like damned,
fool? false. for they said
you lost your mind,
possessed by beelzeboul.
a jerk, a tortured soul.

he was not fake,
never phoney,
“sham you!” they screamed:
later paying homage.
quiet remains, but
i confess יהּ
when beloved left
they penned his fairy tale

fits of covert passion
tempered as women, wait
outside the synagogue –
he debated with the
rabbi so every thing changed.
יהּ‎ voice betwixt his lips,
for ever sealed & raised

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