Tamar and Yehudah

I wish I were Tamar

Who kept her pledge

And cast her net

wider than Yehuda’s,

whether he liked it or not

Who are you, Tamar?

“A lethal woman,

methinks”,Yehuda’s

delusory prejudice.

Beware the fatherless

widow’s oppression.

Disgrace.

I know who you are,

whether you like it or not

Chagall-Tamar_the_daughter-in-law_of_Judah

-Who are you, veiled

woman?

– Don’t you know?

For money, but a kid

shall do, you may know

me better. No kid, no mo-

ney? I bet you can pledge

thy seal, cord and staff,

whether you like it or not

-Who do you think

you are, Tamar?

You show, my girl

A harlot methinks,

and only fire may pur-

ify thy offense. Pray,

Who’s the father?

-The Man who  pledged

this seal, cord and staff,

Whether he liked it or not

-Whether you like it or not,

You are more in the right

than I, Tamar: I did not give

you to my son Shelah.

Who am I?

I am Tamar, a woman of

valor who, to establish seed,

no shame, no scruple

may stop at hollow men,

made him swallow

hook, line and sinker,

so his sons

find their way home

and fulfill his pledge

Amen

Happy Heuristics

Image credits

http://www.rogallery.com/Chagall_Marc/Book-Lithos/Drawings_Bible/chagall-tamar.html

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Scheherazade

Scheherazade

I wish I were, the daughter’s vizier,

sly Scheherazade,

Who wished she’d never had

her nakedness to hide

from king Shahriyar,

with one thousand

and one veils.

 

For, as the Persian story intim-

ates: ardent King once bitten,

three thousand shy, slaughters

bride, after bride, after bride,

after bride, until the kingdom,

Shahriyar’s bleak landscape,

of noble virgins runs dry.

 

Queen! Must always deceit and

intimacy pair to make

hearts in the end unite?

 

Ours, was love at first sight,

but oriental intimacy un-

veiled a two stories house

encumbered with,

at the bottom,

your Mum and Dad’s apart-

ment, your boyhood room

atop, tear our alcove apart.

 

Only bedtime stories,

veiled parables, intim-

ideation will the ancestral intim-

idation, one veil at a time,

strip off, un-

till our souls coalesce.

 

 

For Rim A.

Happy Heuristics

Letters To A Young Poet

letters Young Poet

I wish I were young Franz Xaver Kapus

Whose only claim to unique celebrity

Were Rainer Maria Rilke’s UberLetters

To a Young Poet’s incarnate immortality.

Continue reading

L’ élu: P’tite Ode a Mon Kindlele

Je t’ai attendu
si longtemps
les feuilles moisies
me rappellaient ton absence
je t’ai rêvé
plus de 20 ans
mais cet automne enfin Continue reading

Rhetorical Composing MOOC: a 10 Week Long Carnival of Writing

1st MOOC Experience as a Contributing Writer

MOOC stands for Massive Open Online Course. I registered to many of them through www.coursera.org out of curiosity and for cultural enrichment. Don’t be fooled by the generosity (courses are ‘mostly’ free) and  the ‘benevolence’ and support of the educational teams: they are quite demanding in terms of reading and activity completion; i.e. time consuming . Continue reading

Mistakology/failurology: the Icarus Paradox

Learn from the mistakes of others. You can’t live long enough to make them all yourself.

Eleanor Roosevelt

The root of all superstition is that men observe when a thing hits, but not when it misses.

Francis Bacon.

Icarus paradoxIt is a truism of self-development that you learn more from your mistakes/failures than from your successes. It’s even better still to learn from other people’s, organization’s mistakes/failures, especially if they follow unprecedented successes. To that effect, Dan Miller, coined the expression “The Icarus Paradox”, for the arrogance of outstanding companies leading to their downfall. The paradox is that your greatest assets, talents, victories, strengths may turn into a liability. In his book by the same name, Miller shows through 4 distinct trajectories how these exceptional companies become their own worst enemy. Continue reading

Of Dead Birds, Fowl, Perception and Interpretation

The ghostly impressions left on glass when birds crash into windows - Telegraph. The root of all superstition is that men observe when a thing hits, but not when it misses. Francis Bacon.

A month ago, I got acquainted for the first time with a peculiar phenomenon: bird-window collision.

I was working in the lounge bathed by the natural sunlight coming through its very large window. I’ve never opened the electric blind so fully before and lo and behold I see; live, a bird crashing against my window with a terrible thump. Continue reading