By Jane Medved – When the wind sounds like a siren, find a stairwell Within a city, in the event, in the vicinity of pillars. All loans are forgiven. Lie on the ground. On TV...

By Geula Geurts – for Rachel Goldberg-Polin: In this city there are women who’ve had their bellies split open seven times to fulfill the mitzvah of multiplying fruit, the holiest seed in the pomegranate spills...

By Julie Zuckerman –  A friend mentioned that October 7th has revealed everyone’s truths. My truth is this: I am a Jew. It’s not lost on me that these are the same words Daniel Pearl,...

By Maxim D. Shrayer –  Old virile German men and women come to the Holy Land in early November, warm their bones at the edge of the Dead Sea, admire Jacques Offenbach at the Israeli Opera,...

By Eve Grubin – I try to speak slant or bright. My words meet triangles of fire, thrown. Meanings I make disintegrate. I try to speak slant or bright. If I say… pogrom, the turning...

By Alden Solovy – Thin trails of blood Crisscross my arms. Lemon trees have thorns, But I do not wear a long sleeve shirt For the harvest, And my gloves do nothing Against the sudden...

By Inbal Singer – When the dust has settled The crackly graininess in our eyes Mixed with tears a kind of mud The world no longer recognizable nor hopeful or safe as it was days...

By David Allard –  For seven years, he sat, squinting, by the whispering waves of the sea-lagoon, fingers playing with small hills and valleys of a million purple-tinged shells, stuttering at the fishermen’s questions waiting...

By Miodrag Kojadinović –  It is my fault. I should have found more time to care for my mother the way she and I together cared for my father as the light of mind was...

By Jane Schapiro – Even my father, the optimist, harbored a just-in-case. He never let on, but after his death my sisters and I found gold coins in his drawer. We never knew he had...

By Dr Yaakov Mascetti – בצומת אחת בירושלים, עם עגלה ריקה, יושבת אישה מבוגרת משוחחת עם תמונה. ״אין מה לעשות חמודה שלי״ ״בטח. נדבר יותר מאוחר״ ״את תראי שהכל יהיה בסדר מתוקה שלי״ מילים חטופות...

By Cynthia Barnard – Aunty Ann always wore lovely dresses with long sleeves, even on that sunny day in August when I sat next to her at the picnic table, soft yellow silk slid up...

By Erika Dreifus –  Words are not enough, not even words like terrible horrific devastating killing suffering tragedy trauma hell. But words are all that I have. My own, and those of others. I mourn...

By Abby Yucht –  after Allen Ginsburg Do we mourn our own deaths when we sing this full-throated, from the burning furnaces of our bellies on Judgement Day? Yitbarach V’yistabach V’yitpaar V’yitromam V’yitnasei This year...

By Tom Levy – When you look at me, You don’t know me. I survived school yard bullying. I was humiliated for knowing more than they did. I was accused of killing Christ. I was...