"talmud" poems
The Talmud Teaches...
With respect to his son, a father is obligated to circumcise him, to redeem him [if he is a firstborn], to teach him Torah, to marry him off, and to teach him a craft...he is also
obligated to teach him to swim...(Kiddushin 29a)
**lay awake when the house is silent,
doing maths furiously in the head,
sleeping can be keeping while doing my calculus,
knowing in advance a conclusion comes coined
in only two colors, black or red
the question simple, did I meet my obligations?
and your read the passage for the umpteenth time,
and the same thought interferes as always,
should the order not be reversed,
the first thing to be fulfilled,**
teach them to swim
**based on experience life arrives in sequential, repeating waves,
purposed to drown the weak with no pretending that waters,
salt or sweet matters, so first order is business ought be survival preparation and**
teach them to swim
**if they can swim, stay afloat, then they can then comprehend
the glory of distinguishing right over wrong,
get their priorities straight, that saving others,
especially those you placed on the starting line of life,
is the first principle and overplants anything else when you**
teach them to swim
**my eyes see the tally, why, they are red! could it be lack of sleep?
I am smiling when I am lying,
teach them to swim always first,
but not enough, one must do it well, well,
and even then, better,
as all else will, from the well, follow, when you**
teach them to swim
3:10am
~~~
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 3:16 AM UTC
Just promise to give the keys to the gates, but
Not only to Apollinaire. Just be like Jerusalem,
Opening the gate to the king coming. Kind
David is on the way. He is coming to the gate.
You are a holy person, keeping the keys to the gate
Of Jerusalem. Behind this gate, there is the garden,
Where is the apple the king wants to eat, he has
To consume. Fresh juices of life and being.
Before the dawn of Time, you were chosen
By the king and you have already chosen him
As well. You, a person from the Cossacks,
A post-Scythian phenomenon with Talmud roots.
You saw seagulls in the European north in
The front of the Tallinn synagogue, you saw
Seagulls in the European south in the front of
The endless sea, where Columbus started his trip.
You saw the seagull. You are the seagull. The seagull
Is in you. ”Yes, you are going for a seagull”, you said.
”The mystical unity with the seagull of Genoa”, I said.
The most beautiful. The most attractive. The most
Intelligent. The wisest. The most moral. The most
Feeling. The seagull. There is only the seagull, neither
The world nor people. It is a belief in the seagull.
11.2.23
Feb 11, 2023
Feb 11, 2023 at 4:52 PM UTC
The sound of every bullet of the world is one.
The smell of gunpowder is the same.
The length of each scream is equal.
The eyes of every hyena are red.
The language of every fundamentalist and dictator is the torture.
Every oppressed's land is
Yemen, Kashmir, Palestine or Syria.
Thereafter praiser of the Veds,
Talmud, Bibles and the Quran
Describe the inner importance of your own.
Keep in mind that the oppressed has no God.
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 9:19 AM UTC
What will society say? She asked.
A simple question it maybe but
good enough to **** the dreams
of many, a one man army and
a disease responsible for
killing more than any deadly
disease can manage to **** a
disease, that attacks early on
in life, slowly penetrating the
depth of our body, strengthening
our looks but weakening our
soul.
“Society will laugh at you”, she said.
They will laugh AT you if you are
Short, tall, fat, slim, intelligent,
Rich, poor and basically anytime
When you try to be yourself because
all they can do is laugh AT you but never
WITH you. They are that hungry demon
Whose hunger cannot be satisfied
No matter how much you change
Yourself so why bother involving
Them in every decision we make?
Is it the same society who kills others on name of religion? I said.
A question that gave me many
Sleepless nights and confusing days
until a realization was made
During my walk through the
Religious section of a library
And a gaze fell upon the books
With title The Quran, The
Talmud, The Holy Bible, The
Gita, The Granth and I saw the
Covers with no fingerprints
And no red colour staining them,
Then I realized people who sworn
To **** on the name of these
Precious books probably
Never bothered to read them.
So why have a faith on this society
When they base their actions on
Blind faith?
The real question should be “What will society NOT say?” I said.
Majority will not tell you to keep
Going, they will not say to do
Something different because
They want you to stay where you
Are, they will not ask you to get
Up after you fall rather they will
Use the opportunity to climb on
Your shoulder to get themselves
Up to where they want. So stop
Worrying about what society will
Say and start worrying about
What your inner soul will say when
You fail from following your passion
Because of someone who probably
Never followed theirs.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
Ancestors of a certain hue
With a penchant for adventure
Ventured West
Then South
Discovering lands inhabited
Eons ago
Staking claims nonetheless
with guns
For the Queen;
Silencing millions
With germs and the Old Testament
Way back when
All lives didn't matter then....
Those savages and heathens
Weren't men
But akin to beasts
To be hunted and subdued
For the Queen
They bled red;
Had eyes and ears
On their heads;
They even had two legs
And arms to match
But they were brown and black
A melanin caste
Destined to labor in the Sun;
To bleed and serve
But never lead
Cursed,
Said the Talmud.
Crime-prone,
Said the pundit on tv.
And the meme was spun
Spawning a presumption of guilt
In the jury's pool;
Guilt by pigmentation
There's a bulls-eye
On your back
Jack
And it's hunting season in America.
~ P
#GuiltByPigmentation
7/11/2016
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 1:47 AM UTC
Sell me your god-thing
That I might contemplate
It’s face
Where is my misplaced
Faith
Along the edges of
My dream-scape reality
I have never found
Any measure of grace
Maybe it has been
Buried along with
The ashes of time
Loan me your Idol
That I might
Worship and bow
While babies and ladies
And toys of my youth
Are mutilated and tossed
aside
where is this prophet
of ages past
where is my lot to be cast
gods and demons and
devils called divas
have all led me astray
sell me your god-thing
your play-thing
your toy
sell me your rosary
his crucifix
your joy
allow me to borrow
your kabbalah
your quran
your bible
your talmud
your kebra negast
give me your god-thing
that I might have peace at last
send with it your
lamentations
your reservations
your contemplations
but keep your wisdom
I have found mine
in the vast
May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 8:45 PM UTC
Perhaps none more
Surprised
Than me,
To scribe these words where none
But all, will forever, foresee.
I am the forgiving type,
But not the forgetting.
But tonight,
A poetic transformation!
Tonight, I will be a Christian two,
As well as a Jew.
If I had a minyan
(10 Jews required to pray collectively)
of Francis-men, I could rule the world,
If that thought would ever cross their minds.
Nine Francis-men and one Jew,
Call him, mmmmm, call me, say Yeshua.
They asked me if I would
Write a little poem-number
And I wrote with all my might
Took this unconsecrated writ,
To the ten,
Asking if it was any good,
In agreement to the man, saying:
You may have trod the streets of Jerusalem,
Walked on the Galilee,
Lived upon the mounts and in the desert of Judea,
None matters, miracles too,
You may know Talmud, law and commentary,
But not by this will you, your doctrine be judged,
Who are we to critique, judge,
A man, even a poet, of good will,
If his poetry is any good?
Are we not all sinners, all poet-sinners,
But answer us this:
"Tell us are you a Christian child?"
And I said,
"Men, I am tonight"
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 5:55 PM UTC
The technocracy gathers the museum pieces categorizing ideally to undermine and de-emphasizing objective understanding for the sub-categorized priest-craft, drafting a temporal framework for God. In bargaining as it accentuates its void for evangelism.
This classification, this legal ordinance, this academic dissertation and that context of its time.
Then Mary...
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 12:16 AM UTC
arequipa central has 530 registered buildings
according to the world heritage archive,
and this room this bar these four old couches are supported
by eighteen foot ceiling, four foot thick walls, limestones
urged from the earth in forever ago, so
when the earth shakes there's somewhere to go.
this morning I couldn't finish my coffee but climb in a bus
with a man who
said the mountains, here, were once people too.
misti & wife chachani, urged from the earth in forever ago
once fought with such destruction that God, in His
almighty Wisdom
sundered and separated and a canyon placed between their
penitent heads all bowed surrendered
in caps of snow.
but every age or so
she is much taller but he, a volcano, spews and
spits she stands and
we carve out the earth in hollow dens, so
when it shakes there's somewhere to go.
and they say when the ground gives way, you
all you can do,
is to look up and see snow.
in the holy talmud they wrote,
cover thine head
in order that the fear of heaven
may be upon the living.
and conduct great sorrows on the those who dwell below.
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 3:45 AM UTC
Once upon a time
Someone wrote a poem with no rhyme
I had to see it like one would a painting
Feel it like a warm summer day
The words were so beautiful I wrapped them around me
I knocked on peoples doors for everyone to see
First people looked puzzled even angry
But than they saw the words to the poem and were transfixed
I feel if there were more poems like this the worlds problems could be fixed
I finally had to go home but the poem got up and came back with me
I felt secure in the knowledge from these beautiful words
They are from the Talmud ,the Koran and the Bible
and from Buddha ,Moses ,Alla and Christ its a feeling that just wont cease
We each have our own interpretations but the meaning of these words come down to Peace
And may Peace be upon you
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
Saint Paul did preach the Gospel, of the Grace of God
According to the Scriptures, and he published this abroad
-
To the church at Corinth, two letters he did write
Told them of Salvation, and how to fight the Fight
-
He wrote of Jesus Christ, crucified on Calvary
And His Resurrection, for all the world to see
-
He did this all from Scriptures, From the Torah he did site
From the Talmud also, Paul shined this Holy Light
-
From Geniuses to Malachi, he quoted chapter quoted verse
All about the Lamb of God, nothing was adverse
-
And Paul wrote about the Last Days, of men with minds corrupt
Reprobate from Truth, his Gospel they'd disrupt
-
They'd twist God's Holy Word, the Scriptures were ignored
Paul did warn of this; do not blunt the Two Edged Sword
-
"According to the Scriptures", to Corinth Paul wrote twice
This is the Word of God, not just mere advice
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Have you read in the Talmud of old,
In the Legends the Rabbins have told
Of the limitless realms of the air, --
Have you read it, -- the marvellous story
Of Sandalphon, the Angel of Glory,
Sandalphon, the Angel of Prayer?
How, ***** at the outermost gates
Of the City Celestial he waits,
With his feet on the ladder of light,
That, crowded with angels unnumbered,
By Jacob was seen, as he slumbered
Alone in the desert at night?
The Angels of Wind and of Fire
Chant only one hymn, and expire
With the song's irresistible stress;
Expire in their rapture and wonder,
As harp-strings are broken asunder
By music they throb to express.
But serene in the rapturous throng,
Unmoved by the rush of the song,
With eyes unimpassioned and slow,
Among the dead angels, the deathless
Sandalphon stands listening breathless
To sounds that ascend from below; --
From the spirits on earth that adore,
From the souls that entreat and implore
In the fervour and passion of prayer;
From the hearts that are broken with losses,
And weary with dragging the crosses
Too heavy for mortals to bear.
And he gathers the prayers as he stands,
And they change into flowers in his hands,
Into garlands of purple and red;
And beneath the great arch of the portal,
Through the streets of the City Immortal
Is wafted the fragrance they shed.
It is but a legend, I know, --
A fable, a phantom, a show,
Of the ancient Rabbinical lore,
Yet the old mediæval tradition,
The beautiful, strange superstition,
But haunts me and holds me the more.
When I look from my window at night,
And the welkin above is all white,
All throbbing and panting with stars,
Among them majestic is standing
Sandalphon the angel, expanding
His pinions in nebulous bars.
And the legend, I feel, is a part
Of the hunger and thirst of the heart,
The frenzy and fire of the brain,
That grasps at the fruitage forbidden,
The golden pomegranates of Eden,
To quiet its fever and pain.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
To be submerged in world and Word, in Word
That is the world, in words that are the Word
Written in holy fire, the eternal Song
In which and through Whom the world is breathed into being
The Torah scroll unrolls the years of creation
The pages of the Talmud frame the law
As in the statute-structure of the ark
Or as a tabernacle of the soul
To read the words, to chant the Word, to sing -
To be the yad in the great Hand of God
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
I opened the Talmud
and read as was said.
I closed the book
and kept what I read
in my head.
I lay on my bed
and mused
on Shoshana:
dark haired,
dark of eyes,
lips to speak and kiss.
I dreamed last night
of her in my arms
and woke hugging
my pillow
smelling of my sweat
and dry shampoo.
I never saw her today
maybe she was away.
Naaman, you'll say,
did you miss me today?
Like the night sky
misses the stars
and moon
or the summer sky
the sun and birds
in flight.
She told me
her sister
was pregnant
and her parents
are mad
and all is intense.
She daren't
say about me
going to see her
not just now.
I see a moth
at the windowpane
fluttering against
the glass
trying to get in.
My parents
are downstairs
watching TV.
I hear their laughter
hang in the air,
some comedy show.
I watch the moth fluttering
feeling low.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 11:48 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Talmud Portion for Today
In the Talmud portion for today we read
Of the priestly appointments for stacking wood
And of other liturgical usages
As preparation for the sacrifice
But some must read their portion for the day
By a battle lantern’s flickering light
Deep down in a bunker among the tombs
While rockets fall upon Jerusalem
Thus blood still splashes against the Temple walls
Thus blood still forms the letters of the text
May 13, 2021
May 13, 2021 at 8:55 AM UTC
When you leave from my heart,
I will think of you.
As you were and you are.
When you leave, I will close my heart.
Talmud says, those,
who **** a single person,
are a ****** of the entire world.
I prefer to say,
he who love a simple man,
had loved the entire universe.
That was what I did when we sleep that night,
Cesar.
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC