Mystical musings by the Atternen Ju (Eternal Jew)

The following short excerpt is from a scene in The Atternen Juez Talen. Our hero has recently migrated to Poland (around 1320 CE) to start a new life, yet again. He is reflecting on a line from the daily prayers, that the Master of the Universe daily renews the act of creation (often interpreted to mean that the world, and each individual in it, is created anew each day, or even each moment). Reflecting on his own renewal, he goes off on a riff.

Here is a prose translation into standard English (what I call 'old English'), and then the original text as it was composed...

I, the Eternal Jew am a voice in the streaming world a-coil in you -- a recurring face, a recurring place, unknown, familiar, a recurring embrace. Hate me and I will choke you with hate. Fear me and I will hound you with fear. Love me and I will ignite a desire that consumes but can’t be satisfied ...

To read the whole excerpt, please go to my new blog, Filtered Lights. You will find the post here...
http://www.steveberer.com/work-in-progress/

Shaddiy Werlz

This poem is part of a series, Augeries of a World of Kindness, in the book The Pardaes Dokkumen. The book is still in the editing phase; this poem has recently attained the status of “fair copy”, that is, ready for the public. The Pardaes Dokkumen is a book of varied poems, individual and in series, expanding on a famous but little understood midrash (story, exploration) from the Talmud, Haggigah 14b, in which 4 rabbis (Akeva, ben Zoma, ben Azzai, and Avuya) ascend to the upper worlds, Pardes (pronounced Pardaes) altho even that statement is an interpretation. These poems, these Pardaes Dokkumen, are arranged in a modified Talmudic format. The text of Talmud is divided into two parts, a terse opening statement, a Mishnah (what is received), and an expanded dialog about the Mishnah, the Gemarrah (completions). These Pardaes Dokkumen are arranged similarly, but Zoharically, with an opening poem, a Kabbalah (tradition, what is accepted), and an expanded series of interpretations, the Hiddurim (beautifications, enhancements).

This poem, Shaddiy Werlz, is told from the point of view of ben Zoma (one of the 4 rabbis mentioned above). Two further clarifications: First “Shaddiy” is a word superimposing two primary idea/images: most obviously “shadow” coupled with Shaddiy, a Biblical name of God, usually in the form “El Shaddai”, which has been interpreted variously, most commonly as “God of Might”, altho I am particularly partial to the interpretation “God the Nurturer”. Second, the Hebrew word, transliterated as “Henanee”, appears numerous times in the poem. It is usually translated as “Here Am I”, and in the Bible is most commonly used as a positive response when one is called upon by the Upper Worlds, or as a statement of readiness, awaiting the Upper Worlds to act thru the caller.

Awgerreez ov a Werld a Kiendness
Shaddiy Werlz
I dizzolv, I dizzolv. Henanee.
Awl ov me, I am washt awway. Henanee.
Frum brit melah* to kaddesh ha-tome**,
                        * circumcision; ** prayer for the dead
I am wash awway, I dizzolv. Henanee.

Arrownd my Seel a gallexxee ov Addom.
Dizzolven, dizzolven. Henanee.
And arrownd that gallaxxee ov Addom, voidness;
Washen and washt awway. Henanee.

Frayd and dekayd; I kawl. Henanee.
At the ej ov me at the ej ov Yu.
Fraktel, and refraktel. Kawlz ov Henanee.
Frum the ej ov me in the hart ov Yu.

But, wut this fase, arrizzen frum my ejjez?
Helix in my helisseez. Henanee.
Hu ar yu, shaddiy man?
Yur Henanee in my Henanee.

    "Zoma, it is I, yur Master,
    "El Shaddiy, ov yur shaddiy werldz.
    "Wut yu see iz wut I seed,
    "Yur werld within a mennee werldz.
    "Neer, so neer. Heer it sing.
    "Verb, reverb; my werd in yu.
    "Its skaelz: in jeyolojjek shaeps,
    "Its mellodeez: oesheyannek staets.
    "Now lissen klose; lern the trope.
    "Tern the key. My werld iz open."

Yes, I see annuther werld;
Parallel pepel in parallel lievz.
Heer a man kry; thare a man kriez.
Here he iz ignord. Thare... he iz not.

Du I see korrekt, or oenlee wut I expekt?

Heer I see a wouman despaerz.
The same thare; the same despaer.
Heer? Kiend werdz but stil despaer.
Thare? The werdz that kool, repaer.
Dizzolven borderz. Bareyerz innerwoev.
Three feenger breths divvide owwer werldz.

    Kross over, yu proffets and border-brakerz.
    A werld ov kiendness, but a breth awway.

Arrownd her klay silluwet

In my previous post, Feb. 15, 2013, Song of Elmallah, image 2, I uploaded a highly superimposed image that will become an illustration for my in-process ebook, The Song ov Elmallahz Kumming, Bouk 1. I also briefly discussed the conceptual foundation for using superimposition as a means of expression.

As I was reworking the image last night, Nancy looked into my study, so I asked her what she thought of the new version. She didn’t like it. Undecipherable and lacking visual coherence. Well, Blake was right, corporeal friends are spiritual enemies (and vice versa). In this case, acting as my spiritual friend, my wife didn’t withhold her bad news. And, being my own spiritual friend, her comments made sense.

Part of the problem is that superimposing images is a process, and the process gets lost in the reduction to a final version, a single image. I thought of that life-changing experience I had, walking the beach in Provincetown lifetimes ago, in which the whole trek from MacMillan wharf to my cottage sandwiched between the Penny Farthing and the Green Monster, a 25 minute walk, took place in a single instant. No, I didn’t take one giant step, boom, and I was home. And no, I didn’t slip thru a wormhole (best as I can figure). Rather, my sense of time dilated. I knew every single thing that would happen on that 25 minute walk, every person I’d see, every detail I’d experience. But in that dilated moment, nothing seemed strange to me. It was simply a moment like any other. It was only after I got home, saw where I was, came back to my “normal” sense of time and understood what happened, that I fell smack-down in utter astonishment, looked up at the starry sky, and tried to figure out what just happened.

So, folks, here’s an opportunity for you to experience a dilated moment. I’ve taken my “instantaneous image”, and dilated it into a 42 second image, including some periodic voice-over coupled with overlaid text. Now, this experience won’t necessarily help you to like my aesthetics, but I hope it will help you understand and appreciate the image, and a bit of the poem that the image is meant to illustrate. And maybe, it will even give you a taste of one kind of mystical experience, dilated time, so that you can experience directly how limited our consciousness is, and how much more is possible and even/almost within our grasp.

You can also view the video in slightly higher resolution at
http://youtu.be/gQKxZbtauVw

Transmigrant Journals, 1

This is an excerpt only. To read the complete story, please contact me.
As promised, something in a language better known, but not better understood. This is the first version of a story, or perhaps what might be seen as the foundation layer of a painting...

Door to a Room
Mysterious Tale of the Beloved Son

... as the smoke cleared,
And my life, no more than a tumbling down shadowy tunnels,
Kaleided across the borders of our physics
Into a world within worlds,
A life within lives, times within a time
Into a moment, so slow,
And many generations.

I stood in the living room of a little house, speaking to two people I knew well, people I had never met before. Perhaps we spoke a language I now don’t know. Perhaps we spoke without speaking.

Now imagine a kaleidoscope tumbling into a new constellation, slowly, slowly it tumbles. Or imagine a slideshow with slow, superposing transitions, one image into another. Or imagine two galaxies passing through each other. If you’ve never imagined such an amazing thing, go to the Hubble Heritage website, or find a chariot to accelerate you across these borders.

I was the kaleidoscope tumbling from one world into another. As my world crumbled, I stood with one foot here and one foot there. Then I slowly stepped, and my former life glittered away. I was the projecting slideshow. For a lifelong moment I stood in superimposition, him who I was and him who I would be. Then the former faded away and was forgotten. I am that galaxy, and I am another galaxy, passing through myself, my selves.

And as I did, so are you doing.

Who can explain? And who can understand, who has not ascended out of this smoky world? Who can imagine, who has not ridden such a slow fast chariot; who has not been a migrant across constellations?

This shell, this garment of a body
So intricately woven, so dense of warp and weft, ...

-----------------

To read the complete text, please contact me.

Carried upon Eagle's Wings

Continuing with Ben Azziy's latest adventures in Pardaes, the higher worlds. He and his 3 chevruta partners are attempting to unlock the passageways to direct access to Pardaes. In Part 1 he tumbles out of the sky...

Ben Azzai Fallz Frum the Egelz Nest, II.
               And you shall say to them:
               ‘Shall they fall and not rise?’
                    Yermeyahu 8:4

Last nite, behoeld! Uddoniy relees me frum thoze tallenz
The grippee, kleengee, stickkee streengz, the Addom,
Hu luerz me in hiz kwest for erthee knowen.
     So saverree the wouman frute,
          The rownden, blushee, charee brests,
               The kerlee haer, the darken chantee iyz
               In all thaer deepen dizzee deths.
                    The snakee entiesmen,
               On and on;
          A liebraree a storeez
     Abbowt theze erthee boddeez and nekterree fruets.

But az I say, last nite releest.
A wonder in the pallas and its mazee thotwaez.
I wuz stept intu a passij;
Then a sens ov gaspee rizen. Like I say, releest.
Sumtheeng fell awway, I kno not wut, nor ware it iz.
But I am here, a song within a hartbeet
In the interweev a tiedz ammung a thowzen seez.
A vast, o serj, unnutterreenglee werd,
The all and nutheengness ov Godseeng, saeng, unsung.

Carried upon Eagle's Wings

Ben Azzai Fallz Frum the Egelz Nest, I.

Last nite, behoeld! Uddoniy relees me frum Hem tallenz.
The momen ov relees an its joy,
Till I awwake, fallen thru the aerz:
Bloen vilen in the wind, long haer streemen bak,
Kloethz billo, taren frum my limmz,
My werth az a messagger bloen awway with my kepa;
My werth az a hewman. Relees! Relees.
Fall, o messagger, wile the egel fly on.

This mornen, behoeld! Uddoniy relees me frum Hem tallenz.
The eternatteez ov relees an its thanks,
Even az I awwake in this aera a sepperraten
Ware I am laen in this garden. Uddoniy abbuv
Louks down frum Ware-I-Kno-Not
Uppon this braken boddee ov a skwerl
Or a lamm, or ennee ole praez,
Laen down beneeth Hem nest, a later feed am I.

A difficult vision to bring back to earth, but here's my best attempt so far. Your feedback, as always, will be greatly appreciated.

Skechez for a Therd Tempel

     In the time ov Barrakhu* this iz the seen,
               * Jewish liturgy: the call to prayer
          (But in lower ellevvatenz the gaets ar rare tu glimps
          And the inner koryardz ar oenlee a mith).

The Rume a Merakkelz! All hevvenz reveel.
The Seel konformz, owter an inner,
     Az Addom benden the Miend intu spase.
The iy seez and deklaerz, “Holee!”
Time and spase but shaddo dimmenshen.
“This iz the day ov the Lor. It iz awsum.”

Ware thay dru wotter in the Ferstee Tempel
Now the wotterz por itself forth.
Yu will proffessiy and say, “Marbel. Marvel.”*
               * See BT Hagiga 14B
All the seengerz and all the luvverz
And all the prayerz and all the weeperz
And all the mumblerz and all the grumblerz
And all the kerserz, all ar holee.

Arrownden this holee a holeez ar ruemz
Full ov the arts and Torrahz ov the werldz.
     Here the thot iz being klarafyd.
     Here the sens ar being fokust.
     The saejez ar a spoken. Assend the werd
     Frum owwer unknowen we aspiyer a God.

Slow to drink, but deeply

I confess, this one always makes me smile. With thanx to Louis, Reb Arya Zev, who helps me unravel myselves.

Sweet Wotterz
               "The unholy surrounds the holy"
               -- Rebbe Nachman
Thare iz a pool ov wotter
And evree day I see it,
Sitting still and kalm
Reflekting the shaddoez and liets.

I see it and it kallz tu me:
     "Kum dreenk. Defer
     "Frum yur goingz a duingz.
     "This Momen ammung mennee momen,
     "Take a sip and reflek."

A kleer pool in a kleering.
Wy du I feel such dout?
Wy du I hezzatate tu go
Tu take the steps, tu neel,
Tu kup my hand and dip it in?

Thare iz a well, deep and silent.
If yu wisper down, nuthing reternz;
If yu speek, garbeld sowndz will ekko;
If yu drop a rok, yu heer but a splash.

A deep well, not far awway.
Wy duz it draw me
Tu lowwer a bukket, tu werk the pullee?
Wy du I not draw frum it?

Iz thare not a tumarro an marro?
Hav I not drunk mennee time?
Iz it not kleen and kleer and refressing?
Iz thare a feer or a lak ov therst?

Thare iz a gergelling brouk, not far...
A path I kno well; I see it now,
That leedz ammung the russelling boushez.
I louk at my woch and I tern...

Evree path arrownd me overgrowen,
Wen Reb Arya Zev, sent by Reb Yosee
Kumz frum behiend and wochez me awile.
Then he asks, "Du yu theenk the wotter iz safe?"

     "This iz not just wotter
     "And yu ar no littel sipper.
     "This iz a likker that taerz yur Seel,
     "And that iz a mikveh intu Deth-Staets.

     "Wen did yu last dans naked down the street,
     "Or ly konvulsen yur oen vommet?
     "Ar yu reddee tu sakrafise yur luv wun, Izak
     "Or tu maek yur bed in a lyon den?"

Then Reb Arya smielz hiz smielz, and askt,
"How ar theengz?" and befor I waested
Hiz time, he left; and I, I just marvelld.
     Thare iz a pool, dellereyen sweet...

Tahara: "purities," also used in the sense to prepare a body for burial

Deer Wunzelz and Rappunzelz,

There's nothing like good poesy. Well, anyway... today, I'm not uploading the one that refers to Darcy Thomson's On Growth and Form. That one's titled "Lamment ov the Hi Preest." It happened to me while walking my son Cal to school. Aaaaannnnd, I'm not uploading the one that explores, in an imagistic manner, the way in which randomness and determinism are simply two sides of a divine coin. It begins with a cool epigram from Zohar 1:15b, "The letters and vowel-points follow (Him) in their singing... like an army at the behest of the king."

Instead, this (which was recently published in the journal Sh’ma)...


Tahharrah: Boddeez ov Lite
               week ov Va'yera, (Genesis 18-22)
Thare iz a man, hiz boddeez wer lite.

Wen he sat in hiz hows, mingeld with eevning,
Hiz boddee ar shaddoez in the pajez ov a bouk.

Wen he wokkt on the way, hiz chields befor him,
Hiz boddee iz a darkness aggenst the briten sun.

Wen he praez with hiz minyen, wisper and wunder,
Hiz boddee ar not, but a fluttering shawl.

Ware he sell frum hiz skreen owt tu the markets,
He wer fleshee fasez, and hevvee armz.

He haz wokkt in feeldz, furro and klod,
The raen a dripping down hiz shivver ov boenz.

This iz the man and hiz boddeez ov lite.

Eech benden shape and eech deegree ov thikness
Iz a vael, abstrakt on the Hevvenlee pallas.

Eech gate tu Hevven iz thin az a shaddo,
     Like a pawlish marbel, likwid and smooth.
Eech windo dissolvz in a prizzem ov lite,
     An oeshen ov unprediktabbel glints.
It's wallz ar kerv in a mennee foelden kerten,
     Lase within lase ov intrekkut dezine.
With iyz, the man will not see a way in.

Kaerful, methoddek, intense reppattishen
Ov lissen and feel, a strikt hullakhah*,
               * Jewish law; divine behavior patterns
Such a dellakut tuch on a flutter ov shawlz.

     Like lips slo karressing her foerhed, her nape,
     Her shoelderz, her brests, such a slo karress;
     Downwerd, downwerd, in erottek foeldz,
     Lips barelee tuch, all breth and trembel...

So the man ov lite, hiz boddeez ov deziyer
Muving ekstattek* in the vaelz ov Uddoniy.
               * the fizzekz ov it iz, mor propperlee
               "Muving diskontinnuwus"