Tag Archives: Judaism

Haiku – NaPoWriMo #9-13

Dear Reader,

A lot has happened to me as of late: experienced a repossession, opened a show, had some mind expansion and some good growth. Life has been challenging of late and writing has not been something I was able to focus on every day, but that’s changed. Below is the account I have for the last five days, my offering for the Challenge Numbers. I have tried to maintain the traditional theme of nature in them, though my definition of “nature” may be broad.

Hope you enjoy,
-Mick

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Auditions Are…Rolling Genome…Middleground

So – I have been keeping up with the Challenge but have been super-busy and under-the-weather. Took a health day today and stayed in bed (and on my computer) working. That “time-off” was well spent in that I now have Days 28, 29, and 30 edited and formatted, just waiting for your perusal! Like in all the other posts, read the play by clicking the title. Hope you enjoy!

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God Calling

So I’m sitting on my couch trying to write “Slammed” when there’s a knock on my door. I take a gander through the peephole and see a guy that sort of looks like someone who works for my apartment complex. The guy turns out not to be from my complex, but a proselyte for a Christian organization in town who put on plays and concerts, all with, and I would expect no different, a Jesus-theme.

Now, I have spoken to the representatives of this particular organization in front of my apartment before, and every time when I refuse their fliers they get very high and mighty, and fire and brimstone-y. I try and be polite, refuse and just close the door, but they always try to make me feel bad for not believing in Jesus, and they always let me know that I’ll be going to Hell because of it, sometimes raving about such through the closed door.

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Sandwich

This play is a result of wanting to write a monologue; it can be difficult to keep an audience engaged on stage when there’s only one person to maintain focus. Sandwich is the attempt to do that, be funny and informative, with a kindly old man telling it the way he sees it; Hillel the Elder serves as my Mickey Rooney.

Here Hillel informs you of the invention of the sandwich while building one. Sometimes it just takes a simple thing, I suppose. Enjoy.

What’s Your Name – Oakland Workshop Writing Prompt

Am Yisrael Chai, Am Yisrael Chai,
Am Yisrael, Am Yisrael, Am Yisrael Chai
:

Born of the north of the land of milk and honey to parents of other native tongues who
Tasted the tones of Semitic proverbs that rolled on the winds of two millenia of Diaspora and now it sweetens their saliva, khalav v’dvash, and pass it in a name to their son.

My father holds me, his third boy, my mother’s first, eight days after birth – the brit melah.
This name hovers over the synagogue, not yet announced, but it seeps through the ceiling and out the hearts of the congregation, an ancient promise:

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Rememberings

My earliest memory is either getting hot water spilled on me off the stove or a runover cat in the middle of the road on the way to daycare;
I’m not sure which came first, but the effect is the same no less,
I knew pain and death before I realized what breath was.

Education makes us, and so the days I spent face buried in ancient texts twisted my perspective,
Married to the genuflecting of tradition and extremist socialization strata;
I’ve become a master of my passions,
It’s easy to sit on my own hands and not react to the boiling in the blood that makes me seek affection,
But with all chains come the same perplexion,
There’s a mutiny roiling somewhere in that shattered soul.

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Passover

Some bar, same state, another insobriety,
Plagued in piety of the fermentated drink inside of me,
Sans Seder, sans kosher kitchen,
Unclear of the mission or my position, my placement,
Sure the world won’t end for my religious abatement.

Or will it? Clearly caught in fission’s divisions,
A fractured prism scattering light,
Counting days to start in the night,
Six-hundred-and-thirteen strokes impossible,
Unable to truly be devout, but what’s the difference when the lofty aspirations turn to communal clout?

Cut off, odd man out in all environs,
Barely standing wholly on bending, broken pylons.