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Hope Aug 2012
Some day, some people you don’t know might get spittin’ mad at each other.
you won’t have a ****** thing to do with it.
But one morning while you discuss equality at a café on Wilshire
you might hear a terrible
BOOM
In the middle of the city
And you could spill your fair-trade iced coffee
All over your Egyptian cotton clothes.
you might be able to make it home to see
If your purebred cats are not dead
But most likely you won’t get so far.
your ice might melt,
Don’t you know?
And your faucet might leak.
your apartment could be an ocean
And nobody would care.
You might try to get away
But everyone else will do the same
And you might puff up like the Chilean Blob,
And maybe your hair will come out in tufts
And you’ll possibly die with your legs stuck out at obscene angles
On a gum-dappled sidewalk,
Ashes and fallout whiffling down around your snow-angel death scene.
Mushroom cloud don’t care how civilized you is.
An ad in the LA Times
Pictured a jewelry store in Beverly Hills
Somewhere off Wilshire
A golden band modeled after an Egyptian original
Mother wanted it and so we went
We sat on tuffets of crushed velvet and
She bought it
replacing her wedding band
Which I never did find.
It was pretty but
what other significance this meant
regarding her husband she did not tell

She was struck walking on an off-ramp
on the 10.
Heading east?
How did she get there?
I asked her in the hospital
On the gurney she shook her head
And said she didn’t know.
That’s Alzheimer’s for you.
The ring is gone.

Father took his off well before she passed
and left it on the top of his dresser.
judy smith Dec 2015
In every tribe and culture, a wedding is cause for a celebration. And all of those celebrations involve some degree of negotiation among the couple, their families, their cultures and their traditions to make the experience meaningful and powerful for everyone.

Rabbi Adam Greenwald, director of the Miller Introduction to Judaism program at American Jewish University, said when it comes to Jewish nuptials, even born-Jews will have differences. Is one a secular Zionist and the other Modern Orthodox? Reform and Conservadox? The combinations seem endless.

But, for Jews by Choice, there is the added wrinkle of following Jewish practice while making sure beloved non-Jewish family and friends feel included.

When Jazmine Green, who went through the Miller program, and Jeremy Aluma started planning their Jewish wedding, Jazmine’s Catholic mother revealed that she had always dreamed of watching Jazmine’s father walk their daughter down the aisle. The Jewish practice of having both the bride’s parents walk her to the chuppah and remain there with the groom and his family throughout the ceremony was unfamiliar and she resisted it.

Greenwald, who each year officiates at the weddings of 15 to 20 couples in which one person is a Jew by Choice, often meets with non-Jewish families early in the preparation process to talk through these issues and answer questions. He recognizes that, for some parents, there is real sadness when a child chooses a different faith.

“I try to honor those complex emotions and assure them I only want to help create a special, meaningful day for everyone,” he said.

He suggests couples create booklets to explain Jewish terms for attendees who may not be familiar with them and that they make sure the officiating rabbi offers a few sentences of context before each stage of the wedding. These can range from a word about the Sheva Brachot, or Seven Blessings, to explaining to a Christian family that a traditional ketubah is written in Aramaic, the language spoken during the time of Jesus, as Rabbi Anne Brener, professor at the Academy for Jewish Religion, California, has done.

Of course, the wedding itself is not a classroom. Jazmine and Jeremy Aluma kept their printed program informal and friendly with questions such as, “What’s up with the circling?” Their explanation of the ketubah concluded, “It also puts a monetary value on Jazmine’s head so she can hold it over Jeremy for the rest of their lives.” About the glass-smashing, they wrote, “If you’re a Jew, you know that as a people, we’ve overcome adversity and make up a thriving global community. Being torn apart encourages us to grow and gives us the opportunity to come back stronger and more resilient than before. We break a glass as a symbol of this natural process.”

Des Khoury, another student of Greenwald’s, and Moshe Netter found a way to recognize many of their families’ traditions in their ceremony and afterward. They were married by Moshe’s father, Rabbi Perry Netter, who explained to the guests that the chuppah, which symbolized the house Des and Moshe were creating, was open on all sides to indicate that everyone was welcome.

Des is a first-generation American. Her father is Lebanese-Egyptian and her mother Armenian; her family’s faith tradition is Catholic. Her wedding program included ways to express congratulations in Hebrew, English, French, Arabic and Armenian. And after the ceremony, Des and Moshe emerged from yichud, or their moment alone, to the horah, followed by an Armenian song and folk dance, and then an Arabic tune. By that time, she said, everyone was dancing.

The material of the chuppah itself can be inclusive. Brener said she once officiated at a wedding beneath traditional Ecuadorian fabric brought to Los Angeles by the groom’s Catholic family.

Music, explanations and words of welcome are nice, but when it comes to actual participation by non-Jews, every officiating rabbi will have his or her own halachic opinion. Because the marriage liturgy itself can be completed in about 10 minutes, many feel there’s room to add appropriate ritual. The mothers of Des and Moshe, for example, lit a unity candle under their children’s chuppah.

Jessica Emerson McCormick, who was born into a Jewish family, researched clan tartans before her marriage to Patrick McCormick, whose Catholic family is Scotch-Irish. Jessica and her mother found a festive blue, red and yellow pattern, and had it woven into a length of cloth and made into a custom tallit for Patrick, as well as special kippot for him and his father to wear at the wedding.

Along with that plaid tallit, Jessica and Patrick’s ceremony included several rabbi friends reading the traditional Seven Blessings in Hebrew, followed by members of Patrick’s family reading English translations. Both of Jessica’s children from a previous marriage were on the bimah, and her son wrote and read his own interpretation of the seventh blessing.

Rabbi Susan Goldberg at Wilshire Boulevard Temple said having non-Jews read translations of the Sheva Brachot is “a nice way to include friends and family in the ceremony.”

Because all translation is a kind of interpretation, Greenwald said he also approves of participants riffing on the basic idea of a blessing to create something that especially speaks to the couple. He finds that the needs of the couple can get lost while they’re making sure everyone else is happy, and sees one of his jobs as helping them stay focused on what they need, how they can be kind and compassionate, but still have the wedding they desire.

“The most important thing,” he said, “is that the couple under the chuppah have a powerful, meaningful experience of commitment.”

Because the wedding day marks a transition to what Jewish tradition sees as a new life, many rabbis encourage couples to go to the mikveh before the ceremony. Often for Jews by Choice, it’s their first visit since their conversion and a chance to reflect on how much has changed since then.

It wasn’t clear at first that Patrick would choose to become Jewish. When he did decide, Jessica said, his family was supportive. Like the families of the other Jews by Choice interviewed for this article, his parents were happy that he had chosen to include religion in his life.

Des, who said she spent years searching for a spiritual practice that felt right to her, also found her parents accepting. “To them, it’s all prayer and God. They’ve even started looking forward to invitations to Shabbat dinner.”

Jazmine’s mother, too, witnessed her daughter’s spiritual seeking and was glad that she found a place that felt like home. In recognition of that, she even gave up her front-row seat and walked with her husband and daughter to take her place under the unfamiliar chuppah.

The officiating rabbi, Ari Lucas of Temple Beth Am, spoke to Jazmine and Jeremy about coming together with the support of their community. He reminded the guests that they were there not just to witness. Together, this mix of family and friends, cultures, languages and traditions would help — and go on helping — the couple begin their new life together.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses
Karijinbba Feb 2021
{In CA, USA -1982- present}
Elizabeth WG, Henry R W his nurse sociopath child sadomizers baby trasher is Susan WRat
Commercial/ residential burglaries, life insurance fraud (which includes ****** for hire for profit cases.
Billing and Medical Services fraud.

Inventing surgeries not authorized
cutting mother's privates up out of malice jealousy greed.
You aren't above the law
buying fraudulent birth certificates from human trafficking serial poisoners Is a malignant crime
to drug young beautiful intelligent gifted brides mothers, without them knowing for years is a crime!
You aren't above the law.
drugging lying cursing a victims mom trashing their hero mother
maligning damaging my childrens brains giving them psychotropics, hallucinogenics and methamphetamin
my grown daughter's nightmare
its against the law
This is the USA
my daughter's if you want to live follow this lead
  Take Taxi cob to Wilshire Blvd to The FBI offices ask for political assilum for you your sisters
your children Angel Mom backs you up.Elenita Rosita. Jeanette: Evil Susan W. Raitano bought you from Charalambos Mantalozis a poisoner serial killer urMom escaped from 1982 from Farron 58 Kalamata Messinia Greece
Arthur Susan Rat ano bought you for a fee
and it's human trafficking.
Susan Word Arthur Rat-ano
you are the **** of Earth
****** cows ****** bulls
you aren't above the law!
I am dismanteling your team of murderers and thieves.
LA and Washinghton
FBI have been informed
you snakes in my childrens paradise
human predators sterile sociopaths
you all wolves with pea size brains
you needed going to sadistic unprovoqued enemy to help you sadomize my family and continue trashing this hero Mom
this purple heart hero Mom
cowards

To all my enemies I am  
vomiting you here to public shame
to your team of ***** wolves
Jeff  A, John CH, shame on you!
Blind deaf mute cacaroach size brains
you need to go to Greece to pile more trash on a battered mother in law
a survivor wounded by the hand of that human predator deadly enemy.
My daughters
Rose Eleni & Jeanette M Wk I love you you adore you uaren't guilty of any wrong doing I believe in you.
You are my children you are being tortured trashed to the eleven winds because they convinced you
to trash me to the four winds.
you trashed Mom to the wolves 
out of fear be strong the more they trash you and Mom know they are your deadly enemies evidence of Mom's innocence
My reputation marred by poisonous snakes matters nothing, my character is impeccable can't be tinted
You allow them to befriend you,
But I do not blame your treason and cruelty to your only Angel mom on Earth
Those maggots narcissists you may think are mother like, are not they only have
selfish agendas very dangerous malignant,
a poison to your mind
and your childrens buy cheap phone write a letter to FBI call police from neighbor tell them not to tell make videos tell all criminal abuse take taxi put cell on airplane mode ditch car it's got tracking too call or  do not call friends they are in it too go market borrow phone call taxi get your kids go to FBI Wilshire Blvd LA tell how you have been suffering deprived
of liberty .
Mom will back you up.
Remember this
"A house divided by itself cannot stand it will utterly be destroyed"
i am your first home my children
and i am giver of life
your lover of life
boved Mom
I can't allow you 3 to trash me to my deadly unprovoqued enemy
so i deprive myself of your presence so the enemy you call friend and family can not plicate me in
macabre agendas
they are ****** for hire
and life insurances
You are always in my heart my mind
you are my baby girls and I will ways side with you don't admit to being mentally ill do not go to any Jeff's phychiatrist to force you to give your parental right

Sociopath Arthur Raitano your evil sterile Medusa Susan W.
Elizabeth W, Gzon stop calling my childrens extended family and cursing them then giving my name to them.
don't you have a name?

To my childrens deadly
two face enemies
Satan doesn't want you in hell
and God wont open gates of heaven
for you I curse the day your great grandparent
were born for all eternity
I bind to you all my pain
my childrens suffering too
soon you'll pay Karma and your many deadly enemies will be hunting you hundred fold as you do into others
I only seek an eye for an eye.
Elizabeth W G i loved Henry one split second because u
didn't understand love neither
Henry R Welonek
  you all tried murdering me by turning me to his satanic sadistic jealous ex girl friend
the evil nurse from hell.
your partner in hate crimes
i am a human being
not a dog ******* My children aren't dogs either to be drugged and forced to call criminals parents
to fill your empty cradle
God and his wise universe
did leave you sterile
for a reason
So let go of my kids
get a dogs to pet as vicious
as you all are.
~~~~~
By: karijinbba
purple heart Mom
A repost:1977- 2021.
To all your team of organized crime Go to hell
blushing prince Jun 2017
There was ink in his mouth and it was Monday morning, doomsday morning.
The comparison of both these seemingly random attributes could mean nothing at all
to anybody else but they came hand in hand for a man that always walked with his shoes untied
and while the rest of the world chewed tobacco; he chewed cinnamon sticks that he would grind
to a fine powder in his mouth spitting it out at nearby ant mounds and by the nests of bumblebees.
This nomad’s of nobody’s business would wander the streets of his hated town, the world’s armpit, the city of fire and angels and whatever the hell else.
He would walk Pico Boulevard all the way to Wilshire Ave., towards Venice and then crookedly stumbling to Van Nuys but he didn’t know his bus routes and his mind was always swarmed by imaginary bugs that he picked up from old soda cans.
What he loved most of all was stopping by the bridges of highways and looking all the way down to
the cars below swimming past in a hurry; the sky dark blue and the headlights like light bulbs
almost running out of their batteries. He saw this as cathartic as most people saw sunsets or a pianist
shaking his head violently to his own tune and it was true. This simple man was born, some say, out of dust, car exhaust and the lost ID cards of peoples’ whose wallets were stolen. However intriguing this could be it wasn’t so.  He was born in a hospital in Chinatown and his mother had gold teeth that glistened whenever she drank too much and how often they shone.
You see, I knew this man long ago when my hair cascaded down my back in fine strokes and my lungs
weren’t yet tired from the things I chose to inhale. For all my purposes, this was the only person I wanted to talk about, to spit and screech whenever I heard his name and I didn’t even exactly know his name; The poor imbecile. He went by different pseudonyms and I suppose I did too but I had a name that most knew. Carmen and Leopold. They chose to remember it because it rolled off, it clawed at your teeth as you said it.
But Monday mornings were a specialty. It meant that he could go and see his brother who lived across town, the one who sang at fancy pubs and refined restaurants, where people didn’t have to yell to admire you, but slowly clapped, a soft hum in a room where everyone understands and doesn’t have to make up for it in the way they whistle your name. He always shook his head at this profession.
“You’re an animal to these people, an exhibit they can safely see from their auditoriums and then go to sleep without having to take you home. Your last hurrah will come soon and then what will you do?”
He didn’t understand Leopold’s hostility. This art he was drawn to. This voice that could have been
given to anybody but it was given to him. Deep down he knew he would never be a big star, he would never leave the place where he born. He would die close to where he went to elementary school and what a big sham, the whole big world so big and he would never see it. Never unfold, instead slowly
crumble like the crust of cakes he stared at through shopping windows.
John Lock Feb 2018
Stark on the Wilshire skyline
Lean the monoliths of mystery
Marshalled by the Heel Stone
Sentinels guard the secret
That mocks the mind of man
~
Huddles of academics
With puny trowels and theories
Probe the dusty chalk lands
Scratching for the key
That picks the lock of time
~
Come, you followers
In your robes of worship
Circle round the blue stones
As ghosts of the ancients
Dance in the Pagan fire.
Cassie Sep 2021
you handed me peach rings
I drove along the 405
an extra twenty minutes went by
toll freeway avoided,
pep talks peppered throughout.

valet greets my toyota corolla
crystal birds hang from the ceiling
unnecessary elegance,
statues and marble.

reached the beach from the cliff overlooking
skipped the tram, we'll carry our own chairs
eating bay cities
burrata dripping out of french loaves
let me hold this time and place for months to come.

walking along, gray skies and clear waves
my dad comes up
the air grows heavy
silence weighted the salty air
raw thoughts

the heads of dolphins spring up
squeals and phones leave pockets
how nature cuts through ache.

ironing a white button down for dinner
only use mascara
tonight your pallets of brown and rose
close enough to assess every pore
I am safe in your penmanship.

rushing to catch hues of pink
just missed it a blond lady says
wasn't good anyway.
heat lamp far away, shivering
denim jacket fits as if I
picked it out myself

made it five minutes before closing
brown sugar boba
soft serve you eat so slow

knocked out in bed
driving wore me out.

next day
a bride preps for the altar
I sit and watch sleep hold you close
cakey blueberry muffin breakfast
two cappuccinos, whole milk.

reaching wilshire
I can't decipher your eyes
Mr. L pulls out a pizza bigger than me
new york style, best you've ever had
I hope my empty tank is enough.

— The End —