Esther Racah Writer & Literary Blogger

Category: Poetry

Poetry is one of my passions. In my blog, I will publish poems which I wrote. Hence I opened a separate category for poetry.  

During the years, I’ve read Italian, English, American, and French poems because, during my childhood, I learned those three languages. Only recently, I started writing poetry which I never wanted to publish. I believe that it is very personal to publish them. 

Although I’m a physicist, I started to read poetry during high school, mainly in Italian and English. Only home I was reading French books. Indeed, the French language and literature were not in my school program.

Writing poetry is one of the most intimate ways to express feelings and moods. Time to time, I will publish poems. 

  • The Cold Humiliation

    The Cold Humiliation

    The Cold Humiliation

    The cold humiliation
    The freezing of my body
    My body like a dead leaf
    In pain and humiliation
    Amid blood and shreds
    I wanted to forget
    I tried to wash away the shame
    I never spoke
    The silence was my way to pretend that nothing happened
    And that I deserved it
    As a punishment for my submission
    A silent acceptance of the pain and desecration
    The blood was like the quiet lament of my body
    Violated and shredded in pieces
    Beauty and femininity as frailty
    The desire to be outside a violated body
    The dream to fly far away from this physical world
    The pain became the awareness of low self-esteem
    I’m exposing myself, showing my pain
    My weakness and disgrace are my witnesses
    I’m not afraid of being judged
    Afflicted by mortification
    I was, and I am broken
    Torn to shreds
    The cry of pain is a loud echo
    Which is always inside me.
    Esther Racah

  • Exhausted In A Cold Winter Night

    Exhausted In A Cold Winter Night

    Exhausted In A Cold Winter Night

    Exhausted on a cold winter night
    The silence of the darkness is frozen like the sensibility of this society
    My comfort is in nature and art
    My books and poetry are my secret hideout
    Wandering around the wild obscurity of my imaginary forest
    I can travel far away every time I wish
    In my imagination, I promenade in magic gardens
    Where there are colourful and delightful flowers
    And the silver moonlight is reflecting in the lakes
    Wandering farther, I discover hidden woods and marvellous castles
    The beauty of those landscapes are breathtaking
    And I can stroll as far as I wish
    I will be pleased to get lost
    And I will discover new secret places
    Where I can hide and be totally transparent
    Where I am totally invisible like plankton
    I don’t have to pretend to be someone else
    I don’t have to please anyone to get consent and admiration
    I can be myself and free
    No abuses
    No brutalities
    No discriminations
    No fears
    None of them will be in this very secret place
    And I can laugh and cry, paint and write
    The insanity of rationality can ruin every kind of spontaneity and beauty
    Every sigh is the breathing of my mind
    Every teardrop is the ardour of my heart
    My naive emotions can finally galvanise me
    They can call me insane, candid     or eccentric
    I will stop caring about it
    I will stop accepting the humiliations and abuses with gratitude
    And I will stand up for myself fiercely.
    Esther Racah

  • Rustling Leaves

    Rustling Leaves

    Rustling Leaves

    Rustling leaves fall and swirl around me
    The sea breeze envelopes me
    The flowers bend under the cold wind
    The mist among the trees hides wild creatures
    I don’t feel any pain
    I don’t have any fear
    Letting go of control
    I dance as the moonbeams kiss my hair and my face
    The sensations of freedom and bliss confuse me
    I might be dreaming
    I might be awake
    Dreams and reality become one
    I finally live in a surrealistic world
    Where nothing can hurt me
    I don’t have to worry about anything
    I let myself follow my intuitions
    And I disappear into the dark forest.
    Esther Racah

  • Dead Roses

    Dead Roses

    Dead Roses

    Like dead roses falling on the cold soil on a winter morning
    I was plundered and deprived of everything I owned and cherished
    My purity and innocence were trampled with impunity
    My freedom and priceless worth were shuttered
    Everything I dreamt of was just an illusion
    I opened my eyes, and an unrevealed reality was waiting for me
    Solitude and silence taught me more than words and books
    Finally, I understood that losing myself was the biggest mistake of my life
    My virtues and values were always with me
    And nobody would have been able to take them away from me
    The self-love and confidence in myself were hidden inside an invisible treasure chest
    My innocence never went lost because I never lost my real integrity
    A treasure that no one can steal
    Life showed me how not to be whenever I encountered miserable and abusive beings
    I fell down, and I lost, and I cried in pain and despair
    In the deepest solitude and anguish, I never lost my real self and merit
    What others were trying to take away from me trying to despoil me
    It always remained inside me
    But I didn’t know it up to the moment I found myself in the abyss of the torments and distress
    I finally realised that I didn’t need what I’ve always desired
    And that I was in charge of my life and my inner well-being
    I feared solitude, but it saved me and taught me how much strong and powerful I can be
    No matter what happens
    I learned how to never give up on myself.
    Esther Racah

  • Powerless And Invisible

    Powerless And Invisible

    Powerless And Invisible

    Powerless and invisible like a phantom
    I find myself amid a vast crowd
    No one can hear my despair which is trapped inside myself
    No one can know about the abuses I have suffered
    The echo of a dream can reach out only to sensitive souls
    My mind is blank, and my soul is crimson
    Like crimson roses, which are crushed to dust
    Whose crying will never be heard
    To be invisible is like to not exist
    But I can always choose to whimper and speak out loud
    And maybe the numbness of my soul can touch other souls
    Chimaeras and dreams float freely in a phantasmagoric world
    I drown in an ocean of unconsciousness
    And the blindness of the heart open the eyes of my inner thoughts
    The mind waits for an unreasonable idea to spark like a flame
    In this abyss of senses, I can only find myself in my dreams
    And discover my inner and authentic reasons to stay alive and bear this burden of life
    As I close my eyes, I can see the immensity of the universe, which swallows me
    And I disappear in the abyss of the darkness
    When the moon shines, I’m afraid to reveal myself
    Since I am used to keeping secrets and hiding my own shadow
    Because hiding is like holding the breath
    I pretend to express all my restlessness in silence
    All I can do is live underneath the conventions
    Trying to conceal my identity and inner soul
    My essence is a mystery that I don’t want to reveal so easily
    I am invisible to anyone who is not sensitive to my hidden world
    Where the secrets of my soul can find refuge
    I will hide my shadow and live in a silent and obscure reality
    Fears and anguishes will not find me anymore
    Now that I can lay under the gleaming stars.
    Esther Racah

  • Flowers Falling Over Me

    Flowers Falling Over Me

    Flowers Falling Over Me

    Flowers are falling over me like a soft and warm rain
    Doubts and sorrows dissolve like the morning fog
    When the sunset light up, the blue sky
    Now and forever, I will cherish joys and sorrows like a cherished treasure
    None of the stars knows our destiny as a mysterious secret maze
    In an endless agony, I lie amid the uncertainties
    Tension and concern can be delightful like lavish rose blossoms
    Beauty and lust overwhelm me
    Now that the luxury of the exquisite universe blinds me
    I totally give up control of my mind and my body
    A sublime ecstasy of irrationality and unpredictability dominates the senses
    Passions and vulnerabilities bloom like magnolia flowers
    Splendid purple roses and candid white lilies fall from the sky
    Stars and hopes adorn the firmament
    I cannot hear my own breathing because of the roaring wind
    In a surrealistic flourishing of pleasure and grief
    Splintered fragments of my soul vanish in the desolation
    I don’t feel any more pain
    I don’t feel any more joy
    Nothing can surprise me anymore
    I cannot change the reality
    I’m not too fond of the truth
    All that I need is the illusion of a dream in an ethereal moment
    In my dreams, I let go of the past
    And I can giggle at the sound of the flowers falling over me.
    Esther Racah

  • Crying Out In Pain

    Crying Out In Pain

    Crying Out In Pain

    Crying out in pain, losing myself in the dismay
    Butterflies of sorrows strike my face, and my hair
    I wake up crying out in a dark anguish
    My tears fall gently down my face like shining gems
    I let myself be lulled by the waves of the darkness
    As tragic as my fate is, I cannot surrender to grief
    Hopes are illusions that blind my senses and overcome my wisdom
    Nothing is eternal and indissoluble because everything is perishable
    The enclosure of the mind is an unlimited endeavour
    The presence of a cracked mirror whose reflection is a failure
    The languishment of a senseless life once the grief is overwhelming
    Crying out in pain when I lost every expectation
    I fall into the trap of self-abandonment once the astonishment disappears
    And no wishes can replace my anguish of the decline
    Waiting for that resilience that could let me survive
    While the clouds strive to move against the wind
    I remain bound by an immutable chagrin.
    Esther Racah

  • Life Fragments

    Life Fragments

    Life Fragments

    Life fragments are like a blue lake in the dusk
    Memories wander like scattered confetti in the twilight
    Loneliness and disillusion flourish with time
    Despair brings resignation to life
    And nightmares lavish their attention on me
    Fractures mutilated my old self
    Relics of myself are buried in the abyss
    Few memories of life fragments emerge from the oblivion
    The crooked dream of an ideality ceases soon
    Pains and sorrows drift away from me
    I run away from my desires
    I hold my breath, and I drown myself in the dumbness
    I become unconscious, pretending to be alive
    Lying to myself is the only way I can protect myself
    Becoming ethereal like a petal
    I float in my dreams
    Hoping I never wake up again
    I become an illusion.
    Esther Racah

  • The Imaginary Window

    The Imaginary Window

    The Imaginary Window

    The imaginary window to a fantastic world is enigmatic and bizarre
    It can conceal everything, and it can reveal something
    Symbols and words would seem absurd and inscrutable
    Nevertheless, there would be an explanation for everything
    Each word encloses a secret code
    There is so much more to discover in the unrevealed
    Trust can deceive, and honesty can be a snare
    Tiny drops of water carve stones into sculptures
    Something frail and little can be powerful
    It is shallow to let conventions and categories be constrains
    The imaginary and invisible window is a portal to another world
    Emotions, memories and thoughts create this phantasmagoric world.
    Esther Racah

  • Synthetic Clouds

    Synthetic Clouds

    Synthetic Clouds

    Being the existence full of pantomimes and unctuous laughs
    As long as lies and hypocrisy create the reality of this world
    Desertion and exclusion are the shields against the synthetic clouds of a plastic world
    Disillusions are the only longings that remain alive in an artificial plastic reality
    Merciless deceptions create the truth in an apparent meaningful existence
    Each futile attempt to unveil a concealed integrity is a further failure
    Despair and acceptance make their way through the emptiness of illusions
    Inevitable sorrows and disappointments pierce the soul with a meticulous mannerism
    Clowns and buffoons enjoy their void luxury far away from authenticity and honesty
    Dazzling chandeliers and brocade wallpapers embellish tedious stagings
    Therefore I seek refuge in an imaginary island that floats in the wind
    Since it is possible to seek happiness and bliss pretending that everything is perfect
    Once there is a fracture of the utopias of an ideal society where empathy, respect and connection
    As a result of unconscious expectations and fears in consequence of preceding anguishes.
    Esther Racah

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