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eumeliaRight after the murder at the gay youth club in August, there was a public poll via the Ha'aretz News Paper which I wrote about at the time - that indicated 46% of those questioned thought gays are deviant. Now this came right after the murder. I'm quite convinced that if the poll was taken now or before it happened, the number would be higher.
There is currently a "scandal" in the ministry of education concerning a poem by renowned Hebrew poet Yona Wallach, who was proud of her own queer sexuality.
There is talk of censoring it because it is not only erotic, it is also explicitly queer.
Yeah, we're such a haven for LGBTQ people in the Middle East
The poem in question is very difficult to translate into English - It's called "You are (he is) my Girlfriend", available in Hebrew and English at the bottom of this post - as it relies heavily on the gendered pronouns in Hebrew - each sex has a different pronoun, making Hebrew, in Wallach's own words, a "Sex maniac".
I speak of this, not only because it's an issue that is personally dear to my heart - Yona Wallach is my favourite poet - but because while the issues may appear different, they are intertwined on an international level.
The fear, dehumanisation, distortion and silencing of queer voices transcends the local and colloquial.
I speak of this, because yesterday, I had the greatest misfortune to read a fail so monumental I do not know where to even begin de-constructing it!
I warn you, because while I've a great many editorials in which gays are maligned, dehumanised and basically accused of being a disease upon humanity, I don't think I've ever read something so virulently hateful and historically inaccurate.
I found it via Andrew Sullivan's The Daily Dish, who linked to The Washington Times's Letters to the Editor here, or under the :
I'm not American, so this conceivably, has nothing to do with me. But when I see this kind of mis/disinfomation, this kind of unabashed hatred, to invoke Hitler in the same sentence with homophobia is the height of ignorance.
In Israel the Holocaust is the Shoa, it is a tragedy of the Jews. At Yad Va'Shem there is very little mentioning of the rest of the victims of the industrialised murder by the Nazi's.
It was only when I was 16 and went on the school trip to Poland and was at the actual camps did I realise that there were other victims, that not all were Jews. Jews held a special place in Nazi ideology, but we weren't the only victims and there was an intersection between the different populations of course.
I had no idea that the pink triangle was the gay symbol for prisoners.
I'm digressing.
My point is; to compare a leader to Hitler because one has a personal grievance, a political/policy disagreement with him is fallacious at best, obscene at worst.
It's difficult for me to even discuss this because you know what? This shouldn't even be a discussion!
I read this lovely letter the same day, via my reading list, I read The Bad Old Days, in The Advocate. In 1967, CBS aired a news report (the full length video is embedded in the article) titled "The Homosexuals, which was basically 45 minutes of dehumanising, demonising, fear-mongering and paradigm entrenching propaganda, regarding gay men (gay women are not mention and are thus invisible, bisexuality is what happens when a gay man marries a woman and keeps homosexual liaisons on the side).
I watched it.
Talk about being touched by history. Homosexuality is a cancer spreading around America and the world. Watching pre-Stonewall homosexual activists always makes me cringe - it's like they're a begging for bread crumbs. Which is exactly what they are doing.
Begging to be treated as human beings.
Unlike the Gay Liberation movement, the Matachine society were assimilationists - the whole Lib vs. Assim isn't over
That was 1967. And this is only in the "West".
Here's the video of "The Homosexuals", if you're not interested in going to the Advocate article:
Back to the post.
You are my Girlfriend
By Yona Wallach
You are my girlfriend
You've got the head of a girl
And you are a girl girl
Like that sweet kid
Said to me in appreciation
You are a guy girl
Or otherwise a girl guy
Because to begin with
Women are undervalued
But your crooked head
Makes you live with a girl
Maybe she's really a guy girl
But you don't talk about it
You live an established life
"Comme il faut"
Similar to all other lives
But entirely empty
Open only outwards
Without content that isn't there
Isn't there
Because your essences are different
And they are silent and paralysed
And censored
She may not know
And may not ever know
That she's a lesbian who prefers guys
And you are a gay man who prefers girls
And you are a girl
She's a guy
It kind of works together
It's the mind that matters after all
Not the bodily form
Imagined testicles
Concealing a desiring pussy
Or a pussy
Concealing testicles
A bit of of beauty, of vain charm
Brings about preciseness, the balancing of deviance
Which awakens regardless
With the excessive honesty
Drawing a line down from the mouth
Lack of humour, treacherous charm
In a language as if that of simple teaching
That fails to consider the existance of lie of treachery
With all its complex charmingness lightness cunningness
That must be fought that is essential
A funny little empty demon
But me I have exact feeling
I hear your fucking voice
Smokey scorched cynical
And I know by the angle of the harm you inflict on me
The voice of the gay man
Tat caught me on accident and is exploiting her to the end
In order to trick me lurking for me waiting for me to give all
Really really what a mistake I thought of you as a guy
I called him you
Girl, you take advantage of the opportunity rising over my momentary ignorance
And you crucify me instantly
Forgetting yourself and the main problem of your life
Perhaps recalling them via my forgetfulness above me rests a face
That awaits unconscious sensitivity of me so as to look
without thinking that I can learn something of this in replay
to set you a more cleaver trap next time
and forgetting that you, girl, are like everybody else
You wish to advance stay alive
To draw a continuous line of experience
Uncut
It's feminine wickedness I'm suddenly recruiting to the aid of my understanding
And grabbing the prize dear me something here can be perceived
Really a typical feminine structure feminine wickedness
And to always be you
My girlfriend sweet one with testicles
And the body of a guy
The first girlfriend I've had who taught me how a girl's head works
To be acquainted with what is central in life
To the personality forming from one moment to the next to your own lack of awareness
To not knowing who you are in you
With sexual essence its centre but as character not sex
Something that can be separated and heard in a clear voice
That can't be played if unknown
As if we are not
There is no pussy between the legs, no prick there
A spirit without a body is moving about the house
Which explains beliefs in the eternal nature of the soul its independance from body and consciousness
The soul has no body but the body has a soul
Facial expressions deny the existence of body
All the time the soul and God speak to us and that is very good
Otherwise we'd forget that we exist and are alive
Otherwise all would be lost without the separation by a third party
In this case the adoption of an impossible but sufficiently suspicious identity.
There is currently a "scandal" in the ministry of education concerning a poem by renowned Hebrew poet Yona Wallach, who was proud of her own queer sexuality.
There is talk of censoring it because it is not only erotic, it is also explicitly queer.
Yeah, we're such a haven for LGBTQ people in the Middle East
The poem in question is very difficult to translate into English - It's called "You are (he is) my Girlfriend", available in Hebrew and English at the bottom of this post - as it relies heavily on the gendered pronouns in Hebrew - each sex has a different pronoun, making Hebrew, in Wallach's own words, a "Sex maniac".
I speak of this, not only because it's an issue that is personally dear to my heart - Yona Wallach is my favourite poet - but because while the issues may appear different, they are intertwined on an international level.
The fear, dehumanisation, distortion and silencing of queer voices transcends the local and colloquial.
I speak of this, because yesterday, I had the greatest misfortune to read a fail so monumental I do not know where to even begin de-constructing it!
I warn you, because while I've a great many editorials in which gays are maligned, dehumanised and basically accused of being a disease upon humanity, I don't think I've ever read something so virulently hateful and historically inaccurate.
I found it via Andrew Sullivan's The Daily Dish, who linked to The Washington Times's Letters to the Editor here, or under the :
A small group of German officers opposed the loyalty oath to Hitler despite great political pressure. They courageously honored and respected the moral and institutional values they represented and knew to be right. We who are Marines are proud to see that our commandant has shown similar courage in the face of political pressure to allow avowed homosexuals to become Marines.
A cold chill shivers down the spines of men when they contemplate the physical acts of homosexual behavior. It is important the American people know that their Marines, and our commandant, have spine enough to notice and oppose this folly. I hope they will honor the many generations of Marines who sacrificed for American freedom and will remember to vote for and support those who will work to "keep our honor clean."
Semper Fidelis.
COL. ART CORBETT
U.S. Marine Corps (retired)
I'm not American, so this conceivably, has nothing to do with me. But when I see this kind of mis/disinfomation, this kind of unabashed hatred, to invoke Hitler in the same sentence with homophobia is the height of ignorance.
In Israel the Holocaust is the Shoa, it is a tragedy of the Jews. At Yad Va'Shem there is very little mentioning of the rest of the victims of the industrialised murder by the Nazi's.
It was only when I was 16 and went on the school trip to Poland and was at the actual camps did I realise that there were other victims, that not all were Jews. Jews held a special place in Nazi ideology, but we weren't the only victims and there was an intersection between the different populations of course.
I had no idea that the pink triangle was the gay symbol for prisoners.
I'm digressing.
My point is; to compare a leader to Hitler because one has a personal grievance, a political/policy disagreement with him is fallacious at best, obscene at worst.
It's difficult for me to even discuss this because you know what? This shouldn't even be a discussion!
I read this lovely letter the same day, via my reading list, I read The Bad Old Days, in The Advocate. In 1967, CBS aired a news report (the full length video is embedded in the article) titled "The Homosexuals, which was basically 45 minutes of dehumanising, demonising, fear-mongering and paradigm entrenching propaganda, regarding gay men (gay women are not mention and are thus invisible, bisexuality is what happens when a gay man marries a woman and keeps homosexual liaisons on the side).
I watched it.
Talk about being touched by history. Homosexuality is a cancer spreading around America and the world. Watching pre-Stonewall homosexual activists always makes me cringe - it's like they're a begging for bread crumbs. Which is exactly what they are doing.
Begging to be treated as human beings.
Unlike the Gay Liberation movement, the Matachine society were assimilationists - the whole Lib vs. Assim isn't over
That was 1967. And this is only in the "West".
Here's the video of "The Homosexuals", if you're not interested in going to the Advocate article:
Back to the post.
אתה חברה שלי
מאת יונה וולך
אַתָּה חֲבֵרָה שֶׁלִּי
יֵשׁ לְךָ רֹאשׁ שֶׁל בַּחוּרָה
וְאַתָּה בַּחוּרָה בַּחוּרָה
כְּמוֹ שֶׁהַיֶּלֶד הַמָּתוֹק הַהוּא
אָמַר לִי בְּהַעֲרָכָה
אַתְּ בַּחוּר בַּחוּרָה
אוֹ לְהֶפֶךְ בַּחוּרָה בַּחוּר
כִּי מֵהַתְחָלָה
מַפְחִיתִים בְּעֵרֶךְ נָשִׁים
מָה אֶפְשָׁר לַעֲשׂוֹת
אֲבָל הָרֹאשׁ הַמְּסוֹבָב שֶׁלְּךָ
עוֹשֶׂה אוֹתְךָ לָגוּר עִם בַּחוּרָה
הִיא אוּלַי בַּחוּרָה בַּחוּר בָּאֱמֶת
אֲבָל אַתֶּם לֹא מְדַבְּרִים עַל זֶה
מְנַהֲלִים חַיִּים מְמֻסָּדִים
"כְּמוֹ שֶׁצָּרִיךְ"
דּוֹמִים לְכָל הַחַיִּים הָאֲחֵרִים
אֲבָל רֵיקִים לְגַמְרֵי
רַק כְּלַפֵּי חוּץ
בְּלִי תְּכָנִים שֶׁאֵין
שֶׁאֵין
כִּי הַמַּהֻיּוֹת שֶׁלָּכֶם אֲחֵרוֹת
וְהֵן שׁוֹתְקוֹת וּמֻשְׁתָּקוֹת
וּמְצֻנְזָרוֹת
הִיא אוּלַי לֹא יוֹדַעַת
וְאוּלַי גַּם לֹא תֵּדַע
שֶׁהִיא לֶסְבִּית שֶׁמַּעֲדִיפָה בַּחוּרִים
וְאַתָּה הוֹמוֹ שֶׁמַּעֲדִיף בַּחוּרוֹת
וְאַתָּה בַּחוּרָה
הִיא בָּחוּר
זֶה דֵּי מִסְתַּדֵּר בְּיַחַד
הָרֵי הַמֹּחַ מַה שֶּׁמְּשַׁנֶּה
וְלֹא הַצּוּרָה הַגּוּפָנִית
בֵּיצִים מְדֻמּוֹת
הַמַּסְתִּירוֹת כּוּס תַּאַוְתָנִי
אוֹ כּוּס
הַמַּסְתִּיר בֵּיצִים
קְצָת יֹפִי הֶבֶל חֵן
גּוֹרֵם לְדַיֵּק וְיִצּוּב הַסְּטִיָּה
הַמִּתְעוֹרֶרֶת בִּלְעָדָיו
עִם הַיֹּשֶׁר הַמֻּפְרָז
הַמּוֹתֵחַ קַו יוֹרֵד מֵהַפֶּה לְמַטָּה
חֲסַר הוּמוֹר וְשֶׁקֶר הַחֵן
בְּשָׂפָה כִּבְיָכוֹל תּוֹרַת הַפַּשְׁטוּת
שֶׁלֹּא לוֹקַחַת אֶת קִיּוּם הַשֶּׁקֶר וְהַנְּכָלִים
עַל חִנָּנִיּוּתוֹ קְלִילוּתוֹ עַרְמוּמִיּוּתוֹ הַמֻּרְכֶּבֶת
שֶׁצָּרִיךְ לְהֵאָבֵק בָּהּ שֶׁהִיא הֶכְרֵחִית
שֵׁד קָטָן וְרֵיק וּמַצְחִיק
אֲבָל אֲנִי יֵשׁ לִי רְגָשׁוֹת מְדֻיָּקִים
אֲנִי שׁוֹמַעַת אֶת הַקּוֹל הַדָּפוּק שֶׁלְּךָ
הַמְּעֻשָּׁן הַשָּׂרוּף הַצִּינִי
וַאֲנִי מַכִּירָה מִזָּוִית הַפְּגִיעָה שֶׁאַתָּה פּוֹגֵעַ בִּי
אֶת הַקּוֹל שֶׁל הַהוֹמוֹ
שֶׁתָּפַס אוֹתִי בְּטָעוּת וְהוּא מְנַצֵּל אוֹתָהּ עַד הַסּוֹף
כְּדֵי לַעֲבֹד עָלַי אוֹרֵב לִי וּמְחַכֶּה שֶׁאֶתֵּן הַכֹּל
בֶּאֱמֶת בֶּאֱמֶת אֵיזוֹ טָעוּת הִתְיַחַסְתִּי אֵלֶיךָ כְּמוֹ אֶל בָּחוּר
קָרָאתִי לוֹ אַתָּה
אַתְּ מְנַצֶּלֶת אֶת הַהִזְדַּמְּנוּת עוֹלָה עַל בּוּרוּתִי הָרִגְעִית
וְצוֹלֶבֶת אוֹתִי מִיַּד
שׁוֹכַחַת אֶת עַצְמֵךְ וְאֶת הַבְּעָיָה הַמֶּרְכָּזִית שֶׁל חַיַּיִךְ
אוּלַי נִזְכֶּרֶת בָּהֶן דֶּרֶךְ שִׁכְחָתִי מֵעָלַי שׁוֹכֵב פַּרְצוּף
שֶׁמְּחַכֶּה לִרְגִישׁוּת לֹא הַכָּרָתִית מִצִּדִּי כְּדֵי לְהִסְתַּכֵּל
בְּלִי לַחְשֹׁב שֶׁאֲנִי יְכוֹלָה בְּהִלּוּךְ חוֹזֵר לִלְמֹד מִזֶּה מַשֶּׁהוּ
כְּדֵי לְהַצִּיב לָךְ מַלְכֹּדֶת יוֹתֵר מְתֻחְכֶּמֶת בַּפַּעַם הַבָּאָה
וְשׁוֹכַחַת שֶׁאַתְּ כְּמוֹ כָּל אֶחָד אַחֵר
רוֹצָה לְהִתְקַיֵּם לְהִשָּׁאֵר בַּחַיִּים
לְהַמְשִׁיךְ קַו רֶצֶף שֶׁל הֲוָיָה
שֶׁלֹּא נֶחְתַּךְ
זוֹ רִשְׁעוּת נָשִׁית אֲנִי מְגַיֶּסֶת פִּתְגָּם לְעֶזְרַת הֲבָנָתִי
וְקוֹפֶצֶת עַל הַמְּצִיאָה בְּחַיַּי אֶפְשָׁר לְהָבִין מַשֶּׁהוּ
מַמָּשׁ מִבְנֶה נָשִׁי טִפּוּסִי רִשְׁעוּת נָשִׁית
וְלִהְיוֹת תָּמִיד עַצְמֵךְ
חֲבֵרָה שֶׁלִּי מְתוּקָה עִם בֵּיצִים
וְגוּף שֶׁל בַּחוּר
הַחֲבֵרָה הָרִאשׁוֹנָה שֶׁלִּי שֶׁמִּמֶּנָּה אֲנִי מְבִינָה אֵיךְ רֹאשׁ שֶׁל בַּחוּרָה
עוֹבֵד
לְהִתְוַדֵּעַ לְמֶרְכָּזִיּוּת שֶׁל חַיִּים
לְאִישִׁיּוּת הַמִּתְהַוָּה מֵהֶרֶף לְהֶרֶף לְאִי הַמּוּדָעוּת שֶׁל עַצְמֵךְ
לְאִי יְדִיעַת מַהוּת עַצְמֵךְ בְּעַצְמְךָ
כְּשֶׁהַמַּהוּת הַמִּינִית הִיא הַמֶּרְכָּז שֶׁלָּהּ אֲבָל כְּאֹפִי לֹא כְּמִין
מַשֶּׁהוּ שֶׁאֶפְשָׁר לְהַפְרִיד אוֹתוֹ וְלִשְׁמֹעַ כְּקוֹל נָקִי
שֶׁאִי אֶפְשָׁר לְשַׂחֲקוֹ אִם לֹא יוֹדְעִים אוֹתוֹ
כְּאִלּוּ שֶׁאֵינֶנּוּ
אֵין כּוּס בֵּין הָרַגְלַיִם אֵין זַיִן שָׁם
נְשָׁמָה חַסְרַת גּוּף מִסְתּוֹבֶבֶת בַּבַּיִת
מַה שֶּׁמַּסְבִּיר אֶת הָאֱמוּנוֹת בְּהִשָּׁאֲרוּת הַנֶּפֶשׁ מִנִּתּוּקָהּ מֵהַגּוּף מֵהַתּוֹדָעָה
הַנֶּפֶשׁ אֵין לָהּ גּוּף אֲבָל לַגּוּף יֵשׁ נֶפֶשׁ
הַבָּעוֹת הַפָּנִים מַכְחִישׁוֹת אֶת קִיּוּמוֹ שֶׁל הַגּוּף
כָּל הַזְּמַן מְדַבְּרִים עָלֵינוּ הַנֶּפֶשׁ וֶאֱלֹהִים וְזֶה טוֹב מְאוֹד
אַחֶרֶת הָיִינוּ שׁוֹכְחִים שֶׁאָנוּ קַיָּמִים חַיִּים
אַחֶרֶת הַכֹּל הָיָה הוֹלֵךְ לְאִבּוּד בְּלִי הַהַפְרָדָה שֶׁל צַד שְׁלִישִׁי
בַּמִּקְרֶה הַזֶּה אִמּוּץ זֶהוּת בִּלְתִּי אֶפְשָׁרִית אֲבָל חַשְׁדָנִית מַסְפִּיק
מאת יונה וולך
אַתָּה חֲבֵרָה שֶׁלִּי
יֵשׁ לְךָ רֹאשׁ שֶׁל בַּחוּרָה
וְאַתָּה בַּחוּרָה בַּחוּרָה
כְּמוֹ שֶׁהַיֶּלֶד הַמָּתוֹק הַהוּא
אָמַר לִי בְּהַעֲרָכָה
אַתְּ בַּחוּר בַּחוּרָה
אוֹ לְהֶפֶךְ בַּחוּרָה בַּחוּר
כִּי מֵהַתְחָלָה
מַפְחִיתִים בְּעֵרֶךְ נָשִׁים
מָה אֶפְשָׁר לַעֲשׂוֹת
אֲבָל הָרֹאשׁ הַמְּסוֹבָב שֶׁלְּךָ
עוֹשֶׂה אוֹתְךָ לָגוּר עִם בַּחוּרָה
הִיא אוּלַי בַּחוּרָה בַּחוּר בָּאֱמֶת
אֲבָל אַתֶּם לֹא מְדַבְּרִים עַל זֶה
מְנַהֲלִים חַיִּים מְמֻסָּדִים
"כְּמוֹ שֶׁצָּרִיךְ"
דּוֹמִים לְכָל הַחַיִּים הָאֲחֵרִים
אֲבָל רֵיקִים לְגַמְרֵי
רַק כְּלַפֵּי חוּץ
בְּלִי תְּכָנִים שֶׁאֵין
שֶׁאֵין
כִּי הַמַּהֻיּוֹת שֶׁלָּכֶם אֲחֵרוֹת
וְהֵן שׁוֹתְקוֹת וּמֻשְׁתָּקוֹת
וּמְצֻנְזָרוֹת
הִיא אוּלַי לֹא יוֹדַעַת
וְאוּלַי גַּם לֹא תֵּדַע
שֶׁהִיא לֶסְבִּית שֶׁמַּעֲדִיפָה בַּחוּרִים
וְאַתָּה הוֹמוֹ שֶׁמַּעֲדִיף בַּחוּרוֹת
וְאַתָּה בַּחוּרָה
הִיא בָּחוּר
זֶה דֵּי מִסְתַּדֵּר בְּיַחַד
הָרֵי הַמֹּחַ מַה שֶּׁמְּשַׁנֶּה
וְלֹא הַצּוּרָה הַגּוּפָנִית
בֵּיצִים מְדֻמּוֹת
הַמַּסְתִּירוֹת כּוּס תַּאַוְתָנִי
אוֹ כּוּס
הַמַּסְתִּיר בֵּיצִים
קְצָת יֹפִי הֶבֶל חֵן
גּוֹרֵם לְדַיֵּק וְיִצּוּב הַסְּטִיָּה
הַמִּתְעוֹרֶרֶת בִּלְעָדָיו
עִם הַיֹּשֶׁר הַמֻּפְרָז
הַמּוֹתֵחַ קַו יוֹרֵד מֵהַפֶּה לְמַטָּה
חֲסַר הוּמוֹר וְשֶׁקֶר הַחֵן
בְּשָׂפָה כִּבְיָכוֹל תּוֹרַת הַפַּשְׁטוּת
שֶׁלֹּא לוֹקַחַת אֶת קִיּוּם הַשֶּׁקֶר וְהַנְּכָלִים
עַל חִנָּנִיּוּתוֹ קְלִילוּתוֹ עַרְמוּמִיּוּתוֹ הַמֻּרְכֶּבֶת
שֶׁצָּרִיךְ לְהֵאָבֵק בָּהּ שֶׁהִיא הֶכְרֵחִית
שֵׁד קָטָן וְרֵיק וּמַצְחִיק
אֲבָל אֲנִי יֵשׁ לִי רְגָשׁוֹת מְדֻיָּקִים
אֲנִי שׁוֹמַעַת אֶת הַקּוֹל הַדָּפוּק שֶׁלְּךָ
הַמְּעֻשָּׁן הַשָּׂרוּף הַצִּינִי
וַאֲנִי מַכִּירָה מִזָּוִית הַפְּגִיעָה שֶׁאַתָּה פּוֹגֵעַ בִּי
אֶת הַקּוֹל שֶׁל הַהוֹמוֹ
שֶׁתָּפַס אוֹתִי בְּטָעוּת וְהוּא מְנַצֵּל אוֹתָהּ עַד הַסּוֹף
כְּדֵי לַעֲבֹד עָלַי אוֹרֵב לִי וּמְחַכֶּה שֶׁאֶתֵּן הַכֹּל
בֶּאֱמֶת בֶּאֱמֶת אֵיזוֹ טָעוּת הִתְיַחַסְתִּי אֵלֶיךָ כְּמוֹ אֶל בָּחוּר
קָרָאתִי לוֹ אַתָּה
אַתְּ מְנַצֶּלֶת אֶת הַהִזְדַּמְּנוּת עוֹלָה עַל בּוּרוּתִי הָרִגְעִית
וְצוֹלֶבֶת אוֹתִי מִיַּד
שׁוֹכַחַת אֶת עַצְמֵךְ וְאֶת הַבְּעָיָה הַמֶּרְכָּזִית שֶׁל חַיַּיִךְ
אוּלַי נִזְכֶּרֶת בָּהֶן דֶּרֶךְ שִׁכְחָתִי מֵעָלַי שׁוֹכֵב פַּרְצוּף
שֶׁמְּחַכֶּה לִרְגִישׁוּת לֹא הַכָּרָתִית מִצִּדִּי כְּדֵי לְהִסְתַּכֵּל
בְּלִי לַחְשֹׁב שֶׁאֲנִי יְכוֹלָה בְּהִלּוּךְ חוֹזֵר לִלְמֹד מִזֶּה מַשֶּׁהוּ
כְּדֵי לְהַצִּיב לָךְ מַלְכֹּדֶת יוֹתֵר מְתֻחְכֶּמֶת בַּפַּעַם הַבָּאָה
וְשׁוֹכַחַת שֶׁאַתְּ כְּמוֹ כָּל אֶחָד אַחֵר
רוֹצָה לְהִתְקַיֵּם לְהִשָּׁאֵר בַּחַיִּים
לְהַמְשִׁיךְ קַו רֶצֶף שֶׁל הֲוָיָה
שֶׁלֹּא נֶחְתַּךְ
זוֹ רִשְׁעוּת נָשִׁית אֲנִי מְגַיֶּסֶת פִּתְגָּם לְעֶזְרַת הֲבָנָתִי
וְקוֹפֶצֶת עַל הַמְּצִיאָה בְּחַיַּי אֶפְשָׁר לְהָבִין מַשֶּׁהוּ
מַמָּשׁ מִבְנֶה נָשִׁי טִפּוּסִי רִשְׁעוּת נָשִׁית
וְלִהְיוֹת תָּמִיד עַצְמֵךְ
חֲבֵרָה שֶׁלִּי מְתוּקָה עִם בֵּיצִים
וְגוּף שֶׁל בַּחוּר
הַחֲבֵרָה הָרִאשׁוֹנָה שֶׁלִּי שֶׁמִּמֶּנָּה אֲנִי מְבִינָה אֵיךְ רֹאשׁ שֶׁל בַּחוּרָה
עוֹבֵד
לְהִתְוַדֵּעַ לְמֶרְכָּזִיּוּת שֶׁל חַיִּים
לְאִישִׁיּוּת הַמִּתְהַוָּה מֵהֶרֶף לְהֶרֶף לְאִי הַמּוּדָעוּת שֶׁל עַצְמֵךְ
לְאִי יְדִיעַת מַהוּת עַצְמֵךְ בְּעַצְמְךָ
כְּשֶׁהַמַּהוּת הַמִּינִית הִיא הַמֶּרְכָּז שֶׁלָּהּ אֲבָל כְּאֹפִי לֹא כְּמִין
מַשֶּׁהוּ שֶׁאֶפְשָׁר לְהַפְרִיד אוֹתוֹ וְלִשְׁמֹעַ כְּקוֹל נָקִי
שֶׁאִי אֶפְשָׁר לְשַׂחֲקוֹ אִם לֹא יוֹדְעִים אוֹתוֹ
כְּאִלּוּ שֶׁאֵינֶנּוּ
אֵין כּוּס בֵּין הָרַגְלַיִם אֵין זַיִן שָׁם
נְשָׁמָה חַסְרַת גּוּף מִסְתּוֹבֶבֶת בַּבַּיִת
מַה שֶּׁמַּסְבִּיר אֶת הָאֱמוּנוֹת בְּהִשָּׁאֲרוּת הַנֶּפֶשׁ מִנִּתּוּקָהּ מֵהַגּוּף מֵהַתּוֹדָעָה
הַנֶּפֶשׁ אֵין לָהּ גּוּף אֲבָל לַגּוּף יֵשׁ נֶפֶשׁ
הַבָּעוֹת הַפָּנִים מַכְחִישׁוֹת אֶת קִיּוּמוֹ שֶׁל הַגּוּף
כָּל הַזְּמַן מְדַבְּרִים עָלֵינוּ הַנֶּפֶשׁ וֶאֱלֹהִים וְזֶה טוֹב מְאוֹד
אַחֶרֶת הָיִינוּ שׁוֹכְחִים שֶׁאָנוּ קַיָּמִים חַיִּים
אַחֶרֶת הַכֹּל הָיָה הוֹלֵךְ לְאִבּוּד בְּלִי הַהַפְרָדָה שֶׁל צַד שְׁלִישִׁי
בַּמִּקְרֶה הַזֶּה אִמּוּץ זֶהוּת בִּלְתִּי אֶפְשָׁרִית אֲבָל חַשְׁדָנִית מַסְפִּיק
You are my Girlfriend
By Yona Wallach
You are my girlfriend
You've got the head of a girl
And you are a girl girl
Like that sweet kid
Said to me in appreciation
You are a guy girl
Or otherwise a girl guy
Because to begin with
Women are undervalued
But your crooked head
Makes you live with a girl
Maybe she's really a guy girl
But you don't talk about it
You live an established life
"Comme il faut"
Similar to all other lives
But entirely empty
Open only outwards
Without content that isn't there
Isn't there
Because your essences are different
And they are silent and paralysed
And censored
She may not know
And may not ever know
That she's a lesbian who prefers guys
And you are a gay man who prefers girls
And you are a girl
She's a guy
It kind of works together
It's the mind that matters after all
Not the bodily form
Imagined testicles
Concealing a desiring pussy
Or a pussy
Concealing testicles
A bit of of beauty, of vain charm
Brings about preciseness, the balancing of deviance
Which awakens regardless
With the excessive honesty
Drawing a line down from the mouth
Lack of humour, treacherous charm
In a language as if that of simple teaching
That fails to consider the existance of lie of treachery
With all its complex charmingness lightness cunningness
That must be fought that is essential
A funny little empty demon
But me I have exact feeling
I hear your fucking voice
Smokey scorched cynical
And I know by the angle of the harm you inflict on me
The voice of the gay man
Tat caught me on accident and is exploiting her to the end
In order to trick me lurking for me waiting for me to give all
Really really what a mistake I thought of you as a guy
I called him you
Girl, you take advantage of the opportunity rising over my momentary ignorance
And you crucify me instantly
Forgetting yourself and the main problem of your life
Perhaps recalling them via my forgetfulness above me rests a face
That awaits unconscious sensitivity of me so as to look
without thinking that I can learn something of this in replay
to set you a more cleaver trap next time
and forgetting that you, girl, are like everybody else
You wish to advance stay alive
To draw a continuous line of experience
Uncut
It's feminine wickedness I'm suddenly recruiting to the aid of my understanding
And grabbing the prize dear me something here can be perceived
Really a typical feminine structure feminine wickedness
And to always be you
My girlfriend sweet one with testicles
And the body of a guy
The first girlfriend I've had who taught me how a girl's head works
To be acquainted with what is central in life
To the personality forming from one moment to the next to your own lack of awareness
To not knowing who you are in you
With sexual essence its centre but as character not sex
Something that can be separated and heard in a clear voice
That can't be played if unknown
As if we are not
There is no pussy between the legs, no prick there
A spirit without a body is moving about the house
Which explains beliefs in the eternal nature of the soul its independance from body and consciousness
The soul has no body but the body has a soul
Facial expressions deny the existence of body
All the time the soul and God speak to us and that is very good
Otherwise we'd forget that we exist and are alive
Otherwise all would be lost without the separation by a third party
In this case the adoption of an impossible but sufficiently suspicious identity.
