Melbourne Story

[Boss]

Upon leaving...

Alexandra

Bratislava
Two fine sisters
Father leaves
United States
Mum remarries
To Australia
Ten years old
Her life awaits

Old stepfather
New religion
Kilby Rd and
Foreign tongue
Summer heat
Jewish function
Meet a partner
Oh so young

Get engaged
Dress designer
Wedding chupah
Synagogue
First a daughter
Then five brothers
Thru the Sixties
In the cog

Esther killed
Husband gone
Mick he dies
So does Jez
Weep at night
Candle burns
Bible Psalms
Sad affairs

Then you smile
Wizened counsel
Humbleness
You cannot beg
See Garfunkel
See L Cohen
Get me laughing
Keep me fed

Sing out loud
'Endless Love'
'Blue Danube'
And Elvis P.
Watch the news
Wearing scarlet
Tulips blooming
Lemon tree

Late night read
Crochet mats
Romance movie
Shepherd's pie
Meher Baba
And your photos
Gypsy dress
A Spanish sky

Your sweet G-d
Such deep faith
Trusting nature
You're my Mum
Send me love
Make me safe
Send me strength
A summer comes

Adam

[Boss]

Nobody Knows 2013
for Lil

'How ya doin', Adz?'

'How am I doin'? I'll tell ya. Picture
this if you can. You're standing on
top of a cliff. Behind you and app-
roaching fast are ten ravenous
wolves. In front of you is a 100 ft
drop. You can't see any way out.
There is no plan B. Rain starts up.
You begin to cry. That's how I'm
doin' right now. I'm petrified, mate,
absolutely shit scared. So how are
you goin'?'

'Oh, got Pete comin' round for a
barbie on Sat'dy. The Mrs gonna
make special fried rice. Be good!'

'That's nice, mate'

[Boss]

Empire

For the men who control our lives

Your roads, Coliseum
Your gladiator game
Your infidel slaying
Your inglorious fame

Your author, your poet
Your deep slavery
Your Hellenized copy
Your Mark Antony

Your Cicero platform
Your legion of pain
Your rape and your pillage
Your Nero insane

You kill at Golgotha
You vanquish the Jew
Your Spartacus martyr
Your comeuppance due

Your Caeser-like god
Your empire expands
Your Constantine convert
Your Cross in the lands

Your day Medieval
Your fad Inquisition
Your papal indifference
Your sad superstition

You axe Galileo
Your Gregorian time
Your Columbus by boat
Your Englishmen climb

Your embers fan over
Your secondhand law
Your Westernized chaos
Your Second World War

You murdered my people
You gassed them alive
You'll get retribution
You may not survive

Your influence spreading
Your one currency
Your Babel now babble
Your Chinese increase

Your lopsided EU
Your UN desexed
Your Soviet Union
Your Putin reject

You debase your woman
Your Eve and her snake
She is but an object
You secretly break

You force her to dance
You paint both her lips
Your blue magazines
Your cold hearted pimps

Your streets in the night
Your poverty beckons
Your starved and oppressed
Your police interventions

You're asked for a crumb
From your charity's love
You build up your palace
You pretend you're a dove

Your money your cancer
Your line of attack
Your credit card option
You're lost in Toorak

Your market all frail
You're ordered to bow
Your system recoiling
Your debt laden Dow

Your Caligula seed
You send kids to die
Your Nazi conscription
Your enlisting of spies

Your killing machine
Your arrows, your bombs
Your chemical weapons
Your dead jingo songs

Your marriage all broken
Your vows all askew
Your romance a quick fix
Your casual screw

Your child on the fringes
Her praying to gold
Her iPhone and Big Mac
Her innocence sold

You denigrate G-d
Your football or bust
Your people unholy
Your atheist crux

Your sun it is setting
You castigate Greece
Your devalued pride
Your culture will cease

Your religion all stale
Your ethos all bent
Your unheeded guilt
Your day all but spent

Think I'll take a leave of absence for a little bit.

In peace,
Boss

[Boss]

For a long time my mum has wanted to give an account of what G-d means to her and what He has done for her. She feels she has something worthy to offer. And I agree with her. This piece was written by us over five nights. It tells of important times in her life and reflects on how G-d was always there, even in the darkest moments. My mother is a beautiful soul and the most honest, courageous person I know. I trust fellow Cohenites won't mind reading the thoughts of such person. Ta Boss

My Loving God
By Alexandra

In November 1944 WW2 still raged. I remember hiding in the countryside in a town called Mariatal. Even at the young age of five, I believed. I prayed to Boch Pambusko (God) that the war would finish soon. I loved going to church on my own, always on my own. Here I found peace and safety. The atmosphere got me. It inspired, it lifted me. I always wanted to go to Palestine - the holy land. I have yet to get there but still have a burning desire. It fascinates me this land of many cultures and traditions.

In the war years God was the only friend I had. He used to soothe my fears and pain so life was not so hard. No one instructed me in my quest to be with him. My parents were indifferent and my two sisters preferred much less spiritual aspects of life. When WW2 ended, I thanked God for answering my prayers.

We settled back down in Bratislava and I attended school. My favorite subject was Religious Instruction; Music and Art followed. The street Ulica Cervenej Armady is where I lived. Around the corner was a beautiful blue stone church. To this day I still have a photo of it in a frame hanging up. It was only a small church but inside was like discovering another world. Each Sunday I would go alone and pray - listening to Latin and Slovak; just loving the sense of ceremony. I don't quite know why I was so taken with spiritual matters but I do know my early faith helped me so much later down the track.

My parents broke up in 1947. My father migrated to America. I never saw him again. My mother partnered with a Jewish man who lost his wife Rose at Auschwitz Concentration Camp. Stalin's Communism arrived in Czechoslovakia around 1948. Conditions became difficult and we had to move from our family home to squashy living quarters in a factory my mother and partner owned. I was very lucky that opposite the factory were two churches: both Catholic - one was called St Francis. I attended regularly. Wherever I went God went along with me. I used to say a prayer every night before I went to bed. I still say the same prayer every night. The prayer is this: "Angel my guardian, take care of my soul, take care of me day and night and be there in my time of need. Amen." In 1949 my mum married her partner. We left for Australia and were one of the last families to get out. My sisters and I were very upset and I particularly pined for my old life. We saw Genoa, Venice, Vienna and all the famous cathedrals. On the boat Cerenia my mother informed us that she had married and that we were to call him 'Dad'. I was very upset. I objected and ran off crying. I wanted my Dad. The boat trip was exciting and scary - I was afraid we might sink. It took one month. We saw Aden, Port Said, Columbo and Fremantle. We finally docked in Melbourne.

I must admit I did wonder where the kangaroos were when we drove on the streets the first morning. We settled in a quaint suburban home and the five of us celebrated Christmas for the first two years. I said my prayers and became accustomed to very hot summers. At about the age of thirteen my mother informed us that we would follow Judaism. I wasn't very happy but it grew on me as time went by. It was strange having customs like Pesach and Yom Kippur. I was young and starting to think about boys. But I enjoyed matzoh in coffee, I enjoyed the songs and food. It's funny but all the while I still steadfastly talked to God. It didn't seem to matter where I was, or who I was with, I was always talking to God. I would have talked to him regardless of following any religion. In later life that's exactly what I did.

At this time, in 1952 (I was thirteen), I attended a Jewish social night. I danced and talked and had supper. I was introduced to a young man aged sixteen. He had dark hair, slim and was fairly attractive. We danced a few dances; 'La Mere' and 'Jealousy'. He gave me a goodnight kiss on my cheek. He was doing his National Service. That night I told my mother I had met the man I would marry. She laughed.

I started going to synagogue to learn the Jewish way of life but to me the vital aspects of prayer were the same in both religions. I prayed to an honest, compassionate, loving God. It didn't matter if I was in a church or a synagogue or for that matter lying in the sun; God was there, everywhere.

When I was sixteen I spent a night with my friend Sonia. We went to a dance and I re-met Malcolm. We danced rock and roll, we talked. The next morning Mal picked me up and we went to Brighton Beach to get to know one another. We courted for two years and were married in 1958 in a Jewish temple. A few months before we married I officially became a Jewess. After a time of study, the rabbi took me through a service. I had to understand the role of a Jewish woman and I learnt prayers important in a Jewish household. To this day I still recite the Brocchos every Friday as I light the Shabbat candles. So there I was - nineteen, married and a woman who had a good insight into two religions. But always the oneness of God inside and outside of me. Always this oneness.

Mal and I had six children between August 1959 and October 1970. Our eldest was our darling daughter Esther and then followed five sons; all circumcised according to Jewish tradition. Our early family life was not really so different to young families anywhere - there were pregnancies, illnesses, earning a crust, the good times and the bad. But there was this bringing of new life into the world! The six times I gave birth are easily the happiest moments I have ever had. To me childbirth is an act of God. On three or four occasions I remember seeing a rainbow in the sky after I gave birth. These epiphanies contrasted sharply with the gradual decline of our marriage. Mal was very much taken with the Sixties and early Seventies. He believed the dream, he believed in Cohen and Dylan and Ginsberg. He believed it so much he began to dedicate himself and much of his spare time to poetry and philosophy and so on. He started knocking around with other like minded people. I had to keep house. I enjoyed some aspects of hippydom, I liked the emphasis on love - to me love is God. But it was imperative I care for my very young children. As our relationship slid - amid the infidelity and indifference - I found myself struggling like never before. What would happen if he left? How would I support such a family? It was very difficult. Our marriage did break down a few times but we somehow managed to hold things together for the children.

In early April, 1977 my daughter was killed in a car accident. Her boyfriend died too. My entire world fell in. On the way to her funeral I sat in my seat and talked in a monologue to God. I knew it wasn't his fault. It was Peter who had been drinking. Like all of us, he had 'choice'. I never got over my daughter's death - I never will. Even today I don't know how I've held it together. I cry often to try and fill the void. You never can. Somehow you have to keep going.

More was to come. Mal left in early 1979. We had very little. I worked for three years in a cold factory. I asked my family for support - my elder sister helped a little but no one else. They told me to go to Jewish Welfare. My five sons were growing, needing. Their father remarried. Finally I settled with a Czech man who was never really good with kids but he was generous enough to keep us afloat. My Jewishness was wavering. My eldest three boys had been bar mitzvahed. In early 1980 Adam started his studies. He was against it. In fact all my boys had been against it - they went to state schools and hardly mixed with Jews. Adam was stubborn. One night after I picked him up from his studies he said 'I'm not doing it! Everyone does it for the presents, anyway! I'm not doing it!' We agreed. When he was in his early twenties he thought of going back to do it, but to this day he still hasn't done his bar mitzvah.

My faith was being tested all over the place. My partner was Catholic, my daughter was dead - so many dreams were unravelling. I noticed problems with my kids. My youngest Jeremy (Jez) had neurofibromatosis and had to have a few invasive procedures. My boys started smoking and drinking and keeping late hours. My beautiful son Michael dropped out of his final year of school. He was hostile towards his father. He blamed him for so much of the family's misfortune. In July 1986 Michael suicided. He was twenty two. Something inside me died that morning, too. I asked God, 'Why?' He told me I already knew the answer. I stumbled on. In January 1987 Jez had a malignant tumor in his leg removed. This was followed by rigorous chemotherapy. He lost his hair, he lost so much weight. In May Adam was hospitalised for three weeks with depression. In early 1988 I was hospitalised for about two weeks with depression. People ask me where my God was during those horrific years - I tell them that if I didn't have him as my crutch, I would have died. In the depths of depression, in exasperation and despair, there is a noise, a flicker of hope - that is God. The same God I knew as a young girl in Czechoslovakia. It was him then and it is him right now holding me up. Suffering is part of the road. But God is the road. For some reason unbeknown to Man, he put suffering in.

In March 1993 I met Adam in London. We spent five fabulous weeks seeing Britain and Paris. But for me the absolute highlight was visiting family in Prague and Bratislava. I was fifty four and I retraced my childhood steps. I visited my school, our old homes, the old streets and of course my still standing little blue church. In Bratislava, through a stroke of grace, I discovered my first cousin and his family. It was so very special. For me and Adam there was a touch of the divine all over our travels. A time I will never forget.

In April 2001, my darling Jez succumbed to cancer. He had fought a remarkable fight. Twenty seven operations, bouts of radiation and chemo, spinal reconstruction, a partially paralysed leg; so very much pain. He was thirty. Since his passing, my life has been relatively peaceful. I have tended my garden and spent quality time with my family. I do follow world events closely. I am a bit of a recluse and I like it that way. I love our world but am saddened there is so much pain in individuals and in our culture as a whole. I firmly believe faith would bring much needed relief.

I have lost three young-adult children, I have never really been in a stable harmonious relationship. And I had problems with my mother. I have been tested by Life. Still, I love God now more than I ever could. I don't blame him for my pain - he alleviates it, he helps me understand it. With him, I sometimes even transcend it. He is sustenance, he is creation, and he is love.

Today with my three remaining children, my five grandchildren and my three great grandchildren I say to you 'peace and love'.

May God be with you,

Alexandra

[abby]

As long as there are posts like this I will sift through all the crap that gets posted in this (still, quietly) remarkable community. Thanks for thinking to share this here, and for sharing it.

[MaryB]

How very precious that you and your mother collaborated on this beautiful telling. Such a work of love from both of you. Thank you for sharing this with us.

[Boss]

I would like to thank Abby and Mary for their very kind thoughts. I read them to Mum and she was really tickled pink. Also, thank you if you read thru the piece. It is very special to Mum and I.

I have posted the following poem twice already on the forum but didn't feel the timing was right. I feel it is now. This piece is kind of a signature tune for me. I really hope Jackie knows of it. I realise it may be a tad arrogant, but after 21 years one can get a little testy. It took about a year to complete. I read it on MixFM Melbourne and Sydney on the evening of Tuesday the 6th of November last year. Since then I have changed only the last verse.

For You, Jackie

We must talk it's getting late
Can't we see beyond the hate?
From my place here by the water
I'm your number one supporter
In the years we shared a bed
All your peaks and valleys said
That my kiss could not be surer
Just stand by me that's an order!
We were holy, we were young
Then the lord inside me stung
So I fought ya, I implored ya
Even sat you down and taught ya
Later on I was unfaithful
And kind of not that grateful
But forgiveness has no border
Just stand by me that's an order!
Our break up was so ugly
It meant you had to hate me
Jaded pride inside your corner
Me all broken bloody Norah
Then you took the highest bid
He can't know you like I did
Our love written in the Torah
Just stand by me that's an order!
I have waited for so long
But of this I can't be wrong
Even though you give no quarter
My love won't get any shorter
I can't do this thing alone
It's the rules, they're set in stone
You are strong, you have the aura
Just stand by me that's an order!
In this love there is a way
Be my sweetheart from today
I will hold ya, I'll restore ya
Don't you know that I'll adore ya?
When the underdog is free
You'll be doing time with me
Things will open up before ya
Just stand by me that's an order!
In a world at peace in G-d
We'll be busy on the job
Two courageous co-explorers
Out to liberate the poorest
On November twenty six
Many years from our last kiss
Then the tide will turn toward ya
Just stand by me that's an order!

* An earlier version of this poem appears in the 'Without You' thread.

[imaginary friend]

Dear Boss,

I always check in to read when I see that you've posted in the Poetry section.

Today I found your gift of Alexandra's story – sad and beautiful and hopeful.

Thank you and your Mom for writing and posting it.

xo

Sheila

[Cate]

Our Mothers share a name, it's also my youngest sons middle name (Alexander).

Thank you for posting your Mothers story Boss, it is a wonderful story of faith. It is so nice that you collaborated on this.

[lizzytysh]

Dear Adam ~

I've only just now read the beautiful, poignant, and moving story that you and your Mum have together told.
This sharing is precious beyond measure and you will come to realize more, much more, just how precious it is in the years to come.
Her and your telling of her story is fresh and inspirational, and filled with gentleness, love, and wisdom.
Thank G~d she discovered God early in her life, as he has clearly sustained her through so unbelievably much pain. How dare people challenge her on where was her God during those times; yet, people do challenge like that.
Your Mum shines through these words everywhere.
Her depth came through in your DNA, as well as her influence as your mother.
Thank you to both of you for sharing your beauty.


Love,
Elizabeth xoxox

[Boss]

Sheila, thank you for following my work - it means a great deal; I value your opinion, I value your friendship. I'm glad you appreciated Mum's story. I relayed your note, she was very happy.

Cate, I'm glad our mothers share the same name. 'Alexandra' is regal, it is refined but still playful. I'm glad too you appreciated the story. I reckon we can all learn something from it.

Lizzy, I read your beautiful note to Mum this afternoon. She was chuffed. I told her of your Mom and her passing. She said she was very sorry to hear that and she said with such a lovely note that you composed, you must have had a terrific Mom.

Peace now,
Boss

[lizzytysh]

I'm so grateful that your Mum and you appreciated my words, Adam.
Her response was beautiful... and her kindness about my Mom's influence on me is so deeply appreciated.
Thank you for sharing with her about my Mom. That means a lot to me.

I love your description of her name, Adam.
I love her name, Alexandra, as well.
Not just because of Leonard's song or the poem, but just the name alone, with its beauty.


Love to both of you... XOXOX,
Lizzy

[Boss]

Around 10.40am

Sitting
One day out
The bikes
and cars
sweep by
Sitting
No one knows
not nothin'
Helicopter
Plane
Nothin'

I feel good
Strong
One day out
Just sitting

I come back
Street sweeper
Cool breeze
People pass
No one knows
not nothin'
Think no one
will ever know
Just the way
of it

Wouldn't know
if the moon
fell on 'em!

----

Around 10.45am

What have I become?
The hibernation
Year upon year
Isolation
I don't know the
game anymore
How things work
Rusty, so rusty
I pass a young
woman on the
street
I fumble about -
but better than
in 2011

I march on

----

1.38pm

In the bar
Order shandy
Can't believe the price
In the cog again
So scared

So relieved -
but already
homesick
/
my back - in
bloody agony

Wonder if
Leonard's
in Perth yet -
prob'ly

----

4.08pm

I've had the
Darkness
21 years
Give it up for
Mr Gloom,
Mr Doom

Thanks for
this nothing
For turning my
vibrancy to
ash

[Boss]

Why do some people have it so trauma free easy G-d; and why do some people have it so fucking hard?

[Cate]

I'm not sure Adam, but I was thinking something rather similar just yesterday.

It's hard to really know about other people though ... sometimes the scars that are swallowed are harder to spot then the scars that visible and sometimes the people who stay in the shallows need to be there for fear of drowning.

Not that changes anything. what you have said is true, some people have pretty easy lives compared to the struggles of others. If god provides you with an answer that actually makes sense please let me know.