"yarmulke" poems
You don't wear black face.
You'd never do such.
You don't wear white face;
Do you Kabuki?
Mime, non? Mime, oui?
But every March,
Millions of others,
Attired in green,
Some painted like Celtic warriors,
Affect terrible brogues,
And get sotted, some must disgracefully.
That's what the Irish do, think they?
I won't wear a yarmulke on Yom Kippur,
Not a burka on Eid al-Adha,
Or lead the parade
Up Fifth Avenue.
Slainte
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 2:58 PM UTC
I'd like to eat a mango
As I glide through a Tango
My bubbles would pop
While doin’ Hiphop
I’d soothe my soul
Swingin’ Rock and Roll
No time for slumber
While doing the Rhumba
My blood would pulse
To a Viennese Waltz
Dizzy’s how I’d feel
Skipping a Scots Reel
I’d dance Ballet
With my valet
I’d cut a rug
Doing jitterbug
I’d be happy as
Improvising Jazz
I'd like to swing a Fire Poi
In exotic far away Hanoi
I’d fly to San Francisco
To indulge in Disco
I’d as soon not talk
Sliding through a Moonwalk
I’d wear a yarmulke
While doing the Polka
I’d get the gist
Of doing the Twist
I could unwind
With a Bump and a Grind
I’d take off my wig
For a fast Irish Jig
I'd be a hot Mama
Performing the Cha cha
My heart would sing
To a Highland Fling
I’d step up the tempo
To stamp a Flamenco
I'd feel alive
Just doin’ the Jive
Now the ending’s your choice
For better or woice!
One is glad One is sad
Pick one and it’s done-
I’m off to France It’s the witching hour
For a chance to dance And I’m a wall flower.
Tricia Lambert
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 5:10 PM UTC
I've got a Bobble Head Buddha
That nods on the dash
Some guy named Gideon
Whose Bible rides in the back
Rainbow covered Rosary beads
Hang from my mirror with ease
I've got all the bases covered
As pretty as you please
Have my cassette of Hindu chants
Where I hum along
Shaved my head for Hare Krishna
In case I get it wrong
Holy water in my reservoir
So when my windshield wipers wipe
I have that added protection
Never knowing what might
A Yarmulke from a Bar Mitzvah
In the seat next to me
With a case of Watchtower in the floorboard
I pass out for free
No cigarettes or coffee
Like a good Latter Day Saint
In case Jesus comes back a third time
Who's to say that he ain't
With all my bases covered
I feel pretty safe
Guess I can now crank the engine
And start out my day
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
Sitting Shiva in a Yarmulke
is not, for me, routine.
Still it was right that I should
grieve
for a man I’d never seen.
A man who loved his children
and was devoted to his wife.
A man who worked long hours
and was happy in his life.
A man active in his temple,
One who coached the little league.
A man like any other-
If you pricked him he would bleed.
He wore his nation’s uniform
when called in time of war.
And when the guns were set aside
He ran his little store.
There may be some million like him
Yet not so many as before
Men who truly loved this country
and were respecting of its laws.
A strong and vibrant middle class
is what our country needs
Not Parks filled with rootless losers
and boardrooms manned by thieves.
Dec 21, 2011
Dec 21, 2011 at 8:31 PM UTC
I've got a Bobble Head Buddha
That nods on the dash
Some guy named Gideon
Whose Bible rides in the back
Rainbow covered Rosary beads
Hang from my mirror with ease
I've got all the bases covered
As pretty as you please
Have my cassette of Hindu chants
Where I hum along
Shaved my head for Hare Krishna
In case I get it wrong
Holy water in my reservoir
So when my windshield wipers wipe
I have that added protection
Never knowing what might
A Yarmulke from a Bar Mitzvah
In the seat next to me
With a case of Watchtower in the floorboard
I pass out for free
No cigarettes or coffee
Like a good Latter Day Saint
In case Jesus comes back a third time
Who's to say that he ain't
With all my bases covered
I feel pretty safe
Guess I can now crank the engine
And start out my day
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 8:24 AM UTC