Raphael Pollack

Poetry

Her Name Is Berlin

And she is lonely as I walk in the early morning hours through the past. Many of the buildings, where people live were built a hundred years ago. I’m thinking to myself: every family has a secret, which can later turn into a curse. Though they keep trying to wake her, Berlin sleeps. She produces nothing but dreams shaped like apost card that reads: I wish you were here.

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Beyond The Words

Last night Yosh banged our table to his delight. This morning, with another friend, I walked into a café and banged the counter. Everyone looked up but I didn’t know what to say.

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Power Of The Masses

German workers speak loudly. They berliner proudly. They speak loudly for fear no one will hear them. And no one does.

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Blackbird

This morning there’s a blackbird hopping on the street as I pass. He has a crust of bread in his beak as if he was blessed. But I’m thinking of the child we never had. I search for a name and wonder which you would prefer, sunrise or moonbeam? You say, Samuel.

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The Wind

It’s an evening summer wind which accompanies us home. I say to the woman I love: watch me mount the wind. It’s an old trick I learned in school. Really, I say, it’s just a state of mind. She smiles and laughs, but I’ve already spread my wings.

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Cocaine

I’m getting ready for a line or two and when it kicks in what was far away looks close up now or the other way around. The plugs in the socket, cats in the box, don’t forget to take the dog out stoned or not.

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When People

When people use the word love they mean a lot of different things. I wonder if love is one of them?

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Not Home Yet

I miss you dressed in Russian boots waiting by the railroad track for the first train to get on. You’re leaving town unknown, no one knows you’re gone, headed for another land with a few pennies in your hand. You wouldn’t get far, but far enough to remember the train ride in your heart.

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Naked Thoughts

Everything’s allright even if it’s not. I’m not going to add anything up or separate this from that. I learn slowly patience though it breaks my heart. Today I wonder why, what is close looks sometimes so far away, and if this life is just a dream. I can’t really say. Don’t know if the question is right anyway. You probably know more of what I mean, having seen my naked thoughts tattoed on my arms.

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Achilles Heal

I can’t remember anymore how you walked into my life and took the space right before my eyes. I didn’t see it coming but sometimes I’m blind. What before looked like nothing now looks like love.

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