Post by Rabbi Sammy Schtupp on Dec 6, 2010 17:31:18 GMT
In Yom Kippur, every year
we Jews, reassert our belonging to a tribe,
the Chosen People of Yawweh.
Other ancients disappeared from the face of the earth,
but we survive holding onto The Book
that prescribes the laws what, when, how
and of course how much yet.
I know little, I do little, but nevertheless,
I want to belong to that family,
scattered among countries and cultures
selling matzo balls on Fridays.
This day of repentance not sad or grievous,
we fast from sunset to sunset (without a drop of water
or even a suck on a lollypop!)
In this autumn day I walk from house to house
asking forgiveness for bad things I have done.
My shoes are tight and I have a blister on my sole,
but I continue up the hill to Synagogue to make
the Ecclesiastic affirmation that it is time
for patience and arguments, for love and war
and for blowing the living faeces (or poo-poos) of out the Arabs.
Now the hardest of all is to ask God. How could
I ask him to forgive me, ignoramus, un-religious?
I carry out only a few tiny duties out of 613
that we have been chosen to fulfil
after all we are superior to the goyim.
In this Holy day we search for two goats.
One is without a blemish - for our goodness,
another a scapegoat, carrying our sins,
to be sent to the wilderness to the wicked Azazel.
Probably we are not very righteous
we do it every year very profitably.
we Jews, reassert our belonging to a tribe,
the Chosen People of Yawweh.
Other ancients disappeared from the face of the earth,
but we survive holding onto The Book
that prescribes the laws what, when, how
and of course how much yet.
I know little, I do little, but nevertheless,
I want to belong to that family,
scattered among countries and cultures
selling matzo balls on Fridays.
This day of repentance not sad or grievous,
we fast from sunset to sunset (without a drop of water
or even a suck on a lollypop!)
In this autumn day I walk from house to house
asking forgiveness for bad things I have done.
My shoes are tight and I have a blister on my sole,
but I continue up the hill to Synagogue to make
the Ecclesiastic affirmation that it is time
for patience and arguments, for love and war
and for blowing the living faeces (or poo-poos) of out the Arabs.
Now the hardest of all is to ask God. How could
I ask him to forgive me, ignoramus, un-religious?
I carry out only a few tiny duties out of 613
that we have been chosen to fulfil
after all we are superior to the goyim.
In this Holy day we search for two goats.
One is without a blemish - for our goodness,
another a scapegoat, carrying our sins,
to be sent to the wilderness to the wicked Azazel.
Probably we are not very righteous
we do it every year very profitably.
