Different Slants

Seeing the World from a New Angle

Pleading with Fate in Jerusalem (part 12)…by Robert M. Katzman

Universally spiritual, these thoughts have been on my mind for months. I hope they carry as much meaning for you as they do for me. If you think it will matter, please let someone else read it, because sometimes people lose hope at Christmas time.  Please tell them who wrote it. That’ll make me smile.

I want to start recording my work, maybe selling it online, if someone out there is looking for an opportunity. Some people like the way I read my work. Thanks–Bob

 

Pleading with Fate in Jerusalem

by Robert M Katzman © December 4, 2017

I tilted my head to the Western Wall

Trying to summon the words

Conjuring up Fate to listen to me

Surrendering to that which can’t be seen

But regardless

Nevertheless heard

 

Why do you keep doing this?

You keep taking so many away

No one left to call and say:

Do you remember this perilous time?

(Read on …)

Vad Yashem: Killing a Million Children (part 6)…by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Bewilderment,Children,Depression and Hope,Israel,Jewish Themes,Life & Death,My Own Personal Hell,Rage! — Bob at 3:26 pm on Tuesday, November 7, 2017

Vad Yashem

Killing a Million Children

(part 6)

by Robert M. Katzman © November 7, 2017

 

I didn’t want to come here

I’ve been here before

I know what’s awaiting me

So much older now

I need to feel it again

The jolt of horror

To remind myself

I am still here

We are still here

(Read on …)

Stand Up and Face the Evil…by Robert M. Katzman

Filed under: Bewilderment,Black/White relationships,Life & Death,My Own Personal Hell,Rage!,Social Policy and Justice — Bob at 7:09 am on Wednesday, August 16, 2017

©  August 16, 2017

 

There is a dark drama

A building of pressure

A sense of impending change

A feeling of molten human eruption

A trembling of the ground under all of our feet

 

(Read on …)

An unknown June 11th Bonnie Chelin and Joyce Katzman story…by Robert M. Katzman

By Robert M. Katzman, Copyright June 11, 2017:

This is a kind of a melancholy story, honestly, but not what you might be thinking.

What follows is a true but and unknown Bonnie/Joyce story, in which the villain, I truly regret…was me.

My beautiful older sister, Bonnie Sue, who, as she endlessly instructed me,was 2 years, 6 months and 8 days older than me, and who died today in 2010 at 62. Since she was born in the same year as Israel, when Bonnie turned 13, so did Israel-a unique country/human Bar Mitzvah–whose government issued a large special framed document to any boy or girl who requested it. Bonnie’s hung on the wall above her bed. It was in Hebrew, in full color and to those of us who understood the historical sequence of events, deeply movie. Even I at eleven years understood that.

Their lives shall not be forgotten while I still breathe. Their names kept alive. Bonnie and Joyce mattered to many people.

(Read on …)

Am I My Sister’s Keeper?…by Robert M. Katzman (written in 2004)


Am I My Sister’s Keeper? 

by Robert M. Katzman Copyright 2004

(First, this note. I am my Father’s son. But he was the son of Eastern European immigrants, people who fled from Jewish genocide in the Russian Czar’s Pale. They were terrified defenseless people.  Their son Israel (1912-2000), however, grew up in the dangerous West Side of Chicago’s gangs in the Thirties who fought with the Polish and Irish gangs to hold their turf. Then he spent three and a half years in the Pacific fighting the Japanese with General MacArthur, getting wounded but determined to stay in the fight. He was NOT a terrified Jew. An American who was very different than his parents, and who transferred that sense of justice and defiance to me in his many stories over my younger years. In many ways, I became an extension of him, of what he believed. Of what his sense of justice was. I never dreamed that connection would lead to this story. Welcome to my very strange world, reader.  Believe it.)

 

In the winter of ’79 I received an unusual call from my father, Israel, who was living at that time in Sherman Oaks, California. My home was just south of Chicago.

My Dad was very distressed, I could hear it in his voice, because my older sister, Bonnie, had called him, in tears, he said because some foreign creep was stalking her at the school where she was a teacher. She was five months pregnant at the time with her first child, and the unnerving situation, my father told me, was only adding to her distress.

(Read on …)

Battle Cry of the Anguished American Immigrant!…by Robert M. Katzman

(Originally posted on July 21, 2008, then reposted March 10, 2017 in frustration after the 2016 election, where insanity began to rule what was once a last best refuge for people seeking a chance to live, to be happy)

 

To me, being an American is an idea.

A concept.

An agreement of equals.

A willingness to tolerate the differences in others.

A celebration of the beauty of cultural diversity.

 

While maybe originally, ours was a government,

Of the Protestants, By the Protestants and For the Protestants”

We’re bigger than that today.  A numerically insignificant People like my own family, Jews, now represent less than 2% of the total American population, but I believe that our Constitution includes me when I read it.  I don’t live in fear, here.

Soon, there will be more Moslems in America than Jews, but I don’t care.  They came here to escape the same killing chaos that brought my family here, as well as looking for a new start and a fair chance to become successful.  I welcome them.  Besides, when the hating is missing, they may remember that we’re linguistic cousins who speak two versions of the same Semitic language, as do the Assyrians, who are Christian Arabs.

(Read on …)

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