Do not disturb the cemetery guard
Do not disturb the cemetery guard
He is in charge of your after life chart
Just lie down, silent and deep in your grave below
And do not yell, stir or ask for a furlough
I know how much you yearn
To know what has become
While you were in your coffin forgotten for some
Or see your relatives and the neighbors
And check their toils, hardship or labors
But you are new in eternity, so much to observe and learn
I know how much you earnestly crave
To burst out to the air from this grave
To you it will be a sense of human generous just
To leave behind, if for a moment all this decay and dust
A repeat may be just for one more time
Grab your books bag in a child prime
And rush in fresh air morning without homework to school
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Forgive me Love
Forgive me love that I cannot speak
On these mighty, between the two of us things
Forgive me that I have not the lion courage nor the eagle's wing
That what I want to be, I know not where and how to seek
And to think that I was not over meek
In rolling out rants and raves up followed thundering's
Even to the steep of haughty in vanity of springs
Were I so of ample strength to bestow on you such freak
If I could only see what in me had not created gentler observation
For the presents and your divine presence that I was blest from you
And our walks along bright golden sands of the vast ocean
Which the emerald wavelets at your feet gladly threw
Who can bring back the nights we loved on a fair summer eve
Just before streams of waning dusk poured down from the vermilion West
And on the balmy wind tranquil rest
The silver clouds, like old clan were far away to leave
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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If you go away (2)
If you go away
Like you always say
Bestriding over our tattered love once
A vital breeze which gently traveled on
Over things we say, over thoughts we dream
So it becomes a tempest, a rough storm
With redundant energy and blurred form
Vexing its own creation, gnawing on its own flesh
A faint gale stale with no passion
Which blows through empty chambers
So if you go away
As you always wish
It will come upon you as unrecognized storm
Which breaking up a long continued love frost
Brings with it vernal promises
And the hope of new blooms
You will come out of the house of bondage
From its walls being set free
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Guard yourself
Guard yourself from the evil behind your wings
Hide yourself from the storm, the rain, and the winds
The forest gloom foster danger with deadly weight
which haunts us in some sad reverse of fate
The thoughts which bow the kindly spirit down
and break the springs of joy of pleasures flown
Keep away from the blast that whirls behind the hill
Stay away from the wave, the gale, and the rushing rill
Shy your ears from the overwhelming sound
of hail-stones showers pattered round
Beware of the lightning it will blind your eyes
Take heed! At its heels the thunder's wrath rises
keep your steps away from the edge of above
dark, deep, endless holes, the colossus of nothing
Love should yield us with strength of kings.
Strength should nurture us back to Love
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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Past love
Is it you I keep thinking of, dreaming of still?
Should I feel like I do; shall I do like I feel?
I come to realize that I do miss your love and sooth
While I am not missing your harsh manners and capricious reproof
We ran our love; the golden largess of our praise
Till it was gone,
So it came; so it fell to the flower of cankered mal
It would not let it be as it was; sieged in fatal
It is not a word spoken or a gesture token,
Few words are said; silence is pure innocent guide
Nor even a look piercing of the sharp eyes
Nor a bend or a nod of the head,
But only a calm hush overwhelming the heart
That has too much to contemplate and to keep,
Only memories waking, running through the unsettled mind
That sleeps so light a sleep; if rests such a short.
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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We shall stroll no more
We shall stroll no more
On pebbled white elongated shores
Or go wandering on dunes so late
Into the meadows by the night of date
Though the heart be still as loving as ever
Yet in aching pains in tears in sighs in quivers
And the moon be still as bright
Yet an orphaned and out of sight
Time wears out things and the sword outwears its sheath
And love outwears my tortured soul in my empty breast
The heart must pause now and catch a breath
And love itself seeks but soothing rest.
By night we no longer linger on a lea or on a lawn
For an underfoot of herb that was dry
And genial warmth, hovering over the sky
The silver haze of late summer night drawn
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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You came to me at the autumn of my life
You came to me at the autumn of my life
At the end of the day at the dawn of my dusk
You came to me so suddenly and so swift
to stir the heart to shake the love I knew
You came to me a sweet flower of the field
Love forlorn, furrows of pain in the beauty of your face
anguish in your lengthy sigh
upon your checks the tears long ran dry
To remind me of forms of love I never knew
To challenge to intrigue life calm and satiate
Although I knew my years were past best
I smiled at your false speaking tongue
Outfacing faults in love with love fickle rest
But whenever you claim of true youth in your veins
Whenever say not I that I am old?
Remind you of love best characters of strength and sooth
And age in love? You mock
Loves not the years to be told
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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A Cankered Love or
When she loads frowns and frets
With her taunts and tantrums
And you equally spend time with dreads
In assiduous execration under thundering drums
You know by then too well
Your helpless love worth you a hell
But Alas, why rush to heedless destructive judgement
And arouse forth the monster of solitude, the dragon of torment
So much irreversible damage these hast conclusions
May bring horrors to past joys and first love hopes and illusions
Women through all out history have been like this on the land
Angelic on one hand and dreadful devils on the other end
Like thorns encircling a balmy vermilion rose in a morning dim
Like the honey in the milk before it boils and spreads over brim
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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A bird at my window
The relentless rain and the whirling winds
The first pushed with violent gusts the other pelt
The windows shutters banged in sound grimed;
The roof’s gutters over brimmed
The two culprits smote the garden bed
The new flowery sprouts in horror knelt
And lay lodged motionless in the ground as dead
I watched and I knew how the shaken flowers felt
The howling gales scud through the flower plots
The rusted nails squeaked on its knots
That held the tree to the gable-wall
All night long under the foul dark pall
The broken shades torn by the winds
Are hanging loose from silver white rings
Uplifted was the clinking thatch
Upon the lonely deserted grange
It is a dark chilly dreary morning
Sun delayed over city with gray sky in mourning
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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How happy he, who is free from love’s bare
How happy he, who is free from love’s bare
The gnawing pains, the spiral downs
Contently he breaths his native distilled air
At his own terms in his own grounds
Bless he who yearns for the simple life
No antagonism no confrontations no strife
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread
Whose flocks yield timely his warm attire
Whose trees in summer lend him protecting shade
And in winter comforting sighing popping fire
Who would believe of such thing so uncommon
so out of this world as a reasonable stable woman
Pretty, witty and yet a friend
But a foll such a fairy session will attend
Bless he who can unconcernedly ignore such phantom and find
His hours, his days, his years slide away
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poem by Isaac Ziv
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