Category: Writing from home

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No End

September 1st, 2024 I’ve wallowed in painI’ve dwelled in heartbreakI’ve existed on breathing in agony and sorrowBut nowNot wallowing but drowningNot dwelling but barely survivingAnd the breaths of poisoned anguish and grief threaten to suffocateWith no

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9 Months In

July 8th, 2024 For months on endMy heart bleeding proseLyrics and phrases pushing their wayThrough the cracks in my facadeNow that the wall has crumbledThe dam burstMy heart broken beyond repairThe 9 month markHas brought death

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Inflation

May 13th, 2024 Inflation means the cost of living continues to increaseI never thought I’d see such high inflation in my timeI don’t think I can afford this cost

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Once Again

May 5th, 2024 I wanted to talk about the Jews being barred from universities, their homes and businesses marked and boycotted, their identity used against them back in the all too recent 1930s, but 2024 kept

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He’s No Hero, Please

March 27th, 2024 My son’s not a hero was her first thoughtHe’s just a kidHis smelly shoesHis messy roomAnd a constant smirk on his face I’m pretty sure that’s not what heroes look like, she saidHe’s

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The Family That Loves Together

October 17, 2023 Families stay togetherThey learned when they were littleOn holidays, on weekend tripsBecause alone we’re just too brittle Families stay togetherThey all continued sayingAnd yes, even as the kids got olderIt’s what they kept

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Writing from home
Hila Bar

Yona

I rise above you higher than any of you would yearn to reachAbove the throngs of congregating peopleCrying, grieving, trying to make senseFrom your view on the ground. But my view is vastAnd open. 417 days

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Simchat Torah Morning 2023

This time last year it’s early in the morning and I am suddenly roused from sleep. Could it be…? Is this a siren? We are usually warned about red alert sirens, indicating that we are being

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Writing from home
Alla Turovskaya

I Will Call You After the War

I had that student. I remember his first time in my class vividly. He chose a chair, positioning himself with his back to the window to shield his eyes from the sun. As he settled in,

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Soldiering On

More empty chairs than not We’ll sit at the table alone But how can we bemoan our fate When our children could still come home

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