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I didn’t write yesterday (with pencil)
it was a lost day
hollow and conventional

silence is the only rigour
that brightens
these words

illness, heartache
and poverty
the guru’s blessings

aspiring every morning
reflecting every evening

I am a rich man seeking wealth
let me sit a silent day instead
to notice only

my insomnia is deep
I forget reality as soon as I see it

waiting for you
and your whispers

discipline and eagerness
two legs
treading lightly

Poets to read

Samuel Menashe