This Passover I shall pour out wine for the spilt blood this year:
In Israel and in Palestine,
In San Bernadino,
In Stockholm and St. Petersburg,
In Afghanistan and Iraq, yet,
In North Korea,
In Somalia and Nigeria;
How many more plagues do You inflict on us?
Ten times ten thousand sorrows afflict these
You crafted from clay and
to wear on the world You Gave
and Man accelerated decay,
craftily choked it with carbon,
but it made buck,
and at what a bargain].
Where tyranny still reigns triumphant,
and shall mourn in this celebration
that we are so much further from
Tikkun Olam תיקון עולם
than it seems
that we have ever been.
I would wish a chag sahmeakh חג שמח
but I cannot muster it,
for all this
Blood in the sand,
“This year we are slaves.
Next year may we be free:
Firstborns cast to the river
By a tyrant,
You were slaves,
Now you’re free,
Inspired by the Passover song sung at the end of the Seder and a family friend who has recently delivered four male goats here in Connecticut.
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.
Posted in #31plays31days, Fiction, Non-fiction, Plays, Prose
Tagged breaking fourth wall, comedy, Earl of Sandwich, halakha, Hillel, Judaism, matzah, Passover, religion, sandwich, Shammai
Veh-ay-rahs-teekh li l’olam,
“I will betroth you to me forever,”
veh-ay-rahs-teekh li b’tzedek, oo’b’mishpat, oo’b’khesed, oo’b’rakhameem
“I will betroth you with righteousness, justice,
and in kindness and in compassion,”
veh-ay-rahs-teekh li b’emunah,
“I will betroth you with fidelity.”
I will bind you to my arm and my head,
turned inward, with my heart and my mind,
you are leather straps wrapped seven times around my forearm,
ancient promises writ scripture on my forehead,
prayers made meaningful and relevant as they slide from my tongue,
you are the salvation promised on Har Seenai .
Zoog , I gave you my heart before I made the promise in that parking lot
when you asked me where we were headed and I told you my intentions on our first date,
it came down with Mosheh  descending from that holy mountain,
reading backward and forward, an eternal covenant,
nah-ah-seh v’nishma! my love, “I will do and I will obey.”
Posted in Love, Personal, Poetry, Slam
Tagged aaliyah, Batsheeba, betrothal, Bible, children, David, fidelity, Heavenly Court, Hebrew, honey, Jerusalem, Judah, justice, kindness, lions, Love, magic, Messiah, mezzuzah, Moses, Mt. Sinai, Passover, phylacteries, poetry, ram's horn, redemption, rising up, salvation, scripture, Seder plate, shofar, soul mates, Sukkot, Tamar, tefillin, Torah
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.
Posted in NaPoWriMo, Personal, Poetry, Slam, Theology
Tagged aspirations, beer, commandments, end of the world, faith, Judaism, lost, Passover, religion