It does not fade

It does not fade
It does not let
When it gnaws when it hurts
 
It does not pass
Day and night with me it lasts
Like my shadow
Or my image in the glass
 
When I laugh when I smile
My pain with me to torture to beguile
It is so insistent
It is utter and persistent
May be it will release its grip soon
I will have relief and peace by noon

Yet it does not fade
It does not let
Being alone is like being dead
It drives me sad; it stirs me mad

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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I shall speak no more

I shall speak no more; I shall breathe no more your name
There is pain in the sound; there is guilt deeper than shame
In the hollows of the chest there the fire of despair burns
Yet it never dissolves nor breaks the chains and the turns
No walk in the park; no laughter with friends may impart
The deep sullen thoughts that siege the silent heart

Too brief to enjoy or endure by our patience, too long for peace
Bring back the glorious happy hours why let their joy cease
What have caused us to repent to abjure from links fair and girded chain
We denounce that we part never to see one another again

How I yearn to see you joyful and glad, be it mine the guilt
Forgive me adored one! Forsake do not let the flower wilt
Your love in your heart expired not debased
Leaving me in this world alone and gazed

As always stern to haughtiness but humble at your request
This soul in its bitter blackness shall fulfill your quest

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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To dream her

Is it a dream or is it a scene
Is it a phantom only in my imagination seen?
Do I see her shadow in the forest’s gloom?
When the moon is in its nightly orbit loom
The sun has long sunk in the dusky skies
To veil its fair glories while I spy
The unclouded luster of her eyes
Her bashful beguiling beauties once descried
The vanquished roses lose their pride
And in their thorny leaves their blushes hide
Myrtles have lost their balmy girdle
And dropping lilies seen sadly to tell
A melancholic story how much her sweets their own excel
Watching her withdraws into the forest dark my soul pauses in pray
For the light breaks out and goes away
And I am on the look for the vanishing ray
But once she gone the lilies their heads rear
And with fresh balmy scents perfume the air
When the glory of their rival is not there
Again grown bold and proud the spreading rose

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Be near me when I fade away

Oh dear love! Live with me all we shall endure
Even when all seems to suffer turbulent shocks
Rise then we shall to set firmly on solid rock
To flow through all our deeds and make them pure

That we may lift from out of wind and gust
A voice within us that calms and hears
Our cry above the youthful unconquered years
Yet we ever lust for them and in our faith we put our trust

With faith that comes of inner strength
Of truths between us that never can be proved
We can never close all within us that we loved
With our serene pleasures and moments stretched at length

To be with me when my days are cold and my light is low
When the blood creeps and the nerves prick
And tingle, and the heart is frail and sick
And all my wheels are slow

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Of human bondage

When my love and I mutually swear that we both are made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she is fickle; full of frauds and dry lies,
Making me wondering if she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearnèd in the ways of the vast world's false cunning subtleties.

Thus lying to each other, I cannot tell if she thinks me young,
Although in her mind she knows my days are past their best,
Being an occasional adulterous myself, I credit her false-speaking tongue;
On both sides hypocrisy thrives and thus is simple truth suppressed.

But wherefore I can never say or guess when and if she is unjust?
Consuming fresh young flesh wherefore say not I that I am old?
The thrusting thought that love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love, loves not to have years told.

Therefore I do bed her, and she does bed me,
And in our faults by lies and by false evasive excuses we flattered be.
Beware when being seduced by sweet fresh younger nymph's kind
Love becomes a monster that plays havoc with your mind

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Send me some words

Send me some words that my gasping hope may breathe
That my agitated thoughts may release my mind to sleep, to rest in peace
Send me a message that my panting passion may survive
That my mind pantomimes on sweet honey memories stolen from our past hive

Send me some tokens of our love
I expect no rib bond written on paper white dove
Nor letters in scripted in your own hands
To knit back our love in strong strains
Of new touched youth of a ring and vigor to sew the stands
Of our affection, souls connection that as that round ring is plain
So should our love regain its youth its origin and simplicity
No, send me not the coral that your fine wrist enfolds
Laced up together in harmonious congruity
To show that our thoughts should rest in the same hold
No, not your picture though most divine and gracious
And most desired, popular and the best
No, not witty lines, which are most copious,
Within the writing which you addressed

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Love Aches

Have you ever craved the waves of flowers perfume
That float in the garden of roses under the moon sheen loom
They come and go whence no one knows at night gloom
As spring renewed his reign in colors and in splendor bloom

Thoughts of sadness wave and sail in my mind
They come and go leaving memories of pain and agony behind
Like that keen fragrance in the garden, born on the wings of soft wind
And yet none of the flow of thoughts is soft, soothing or kind

But in the instant the thoughts of air remain
To ignite the memory I knew of laughter and of joyful pain
Of times unlike now that will not come again.
The mountains of aching thoughts the earth under heavy clouds of rain

I try to catch and subdue my mind of these many tunes
Like tears of light fallen from the forlorn moon,
Flattened, scattered and bright on a dark lagoon,
Where high reeds lull and sway by echoing duns

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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A night mood

The moon reddish color looms through horizon’s fog
In the dancing mist the hazy meadow sleeps
By the green lush a reptilian creature calls his mate frog
There where a shadowy movement stealthily creeps

Water flowers fold their petals round
In the distance tall and in close array
Yellow willows outline their shadowy forms to the ground
And towards the dark thickets the fireflies stray

The screech owl wakes and soundlessly scouts its links
It beats the dark air with heavy wings
And heaven is filled with muffled light
Pale moon appears and spreads the splendor of the night

Rise up! Rise up!
Sloth forlorn silver moon
Send your gleams through the forest glooms
From every branch and leaf
There comes a voice beneath the bower to relief

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Who ever loved

Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?
Love at first sight, is it the love made of right?

Yet sages claim it takes another kind of love to see
How human spirit, in its tactical withdrawal
From aging outworks and tare and ware that are doomed eventually to fall,
Consents to the bewitching of its shell and shake by troubles of sea

As long as it can hold the frame and citadel
Where the progressive intellect has spent
A lifetime plotting the enlightenment
The backward and the beautiful dismiss of it all

Does it not lie in our power to love and to hate
Does it not the will within us overrule and avoid fate
When reason and dice collide
Which of the two most benefits our pride?

What we observe is censured by the brain
Yet the heart sides with fate time and again

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Morning Spring

The foul mist has been replaced in the greening plain,
And the dew-drops shine on the ear lop of a balmy rose, not rain,
The coquette rose awakes facing East again
Its lovely self adorning in such fresh scent morning with no strain.

Oh, the vast plain is grassy, untamed wild and bare
Wild, wanton and wide open to the morning air
Which has built up everywhere
Making the little rabbit to the meadow tread and dare

upon the far horizon blue peaks in the distance rise
And ivory white against the cold sapphire sky
Shine out of the crowing crests of snow
Beneath their line the bushes stretching in a dominant grow

The morning wind is hiding, sighing, dodging among the trees,

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poem by Isaac Ziv
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