Best Yom Kippur Poems
I’m sorry, honey.
O.K. I accept your apology.
No, wait. Hold on.
What is it?
I mean it. I'm really sorry.
Are you?
Yes, I am.
How would I know?
I’ve thought about what I’ve done.
That’s it?
And I’m never going to do it again
Even if you find yourself in the same situation?
Yes, even then. … I'm determined to overcome my baser instincts!
Even if there's no one there to catch you transgressing?
Yes. Even if I'm by myself.
Then you really are sorry.
And ashamed of myself, before God, for letting you down, honey.
Thank you. I accept your apology now whole-heartedly.
Let's go to synagogue now. Let us praise God and ask for His forgiveness, that we may atone for all of our sins...
Christians have their Lent,
40 days of atonement,
sacrificing something of enjoyment.
When those 40 days of atonement comes to an end,
if you have not indulged once your sacrifice of enjoyment,
all of your past sins get forgiven.
Yom Kippur, now that's a deal I could sink my teeth in.
One day of atonement and all your past sins are wiped clean.
"Some gentiles can be such putzs," some Jews must hail,
"Even for sin those schmucks will still pay retail."
The holiday has come
The day to atone for one's sins
The rabbi gave a good talk
about immigration
It is a terrible thing
that children are being taken from their parents
in the U.S.A.
The healing part of the service came
I was healed from a terrible illness this year
so went up to the front of the shul
We all prayed for health
The singing of the female cantor was terrific
and a young woman accompanied her on piano
Yom Kippur 5779
I made it to synagogue
Entered into the house of the Lord!
Yom Kippur
On Yom Kippur, the day of atonement
The Priests did acts to prevent God’s disownment.
Two goats to the desert so God’s Law is fulfilled,
One goes free and the other is killed.
One killed for God to meet his appraisal
The other set free for Enoch’s Azazel.
This sacrifice, for one year alone
Is repeated yearly in order to atone.
Now we turn to the Gospels’ trial
With an act opposed to Pilate’s guile
A prisoner release this time of year
And the crowd did choose with their cheer
Their choice it seemed was fixed indeed
Between two men, one would bleed
The other free to run away
And live or die another day
Two prisoners did Pilate present
One for release and one for torment
The name of one is not his name
Although milenia have given it fame.
Jesus Barabbas, the crowd cried, “free”
The other Jesus you can nail to a tree.
But in reality they are the same
Even though a difference in the name.
Jesus bar abbas means son of the father
But rarely a Christian will ever bother
To investigate the original tongue
From which the Gospels originally sprung.
We also have Jesus, called The Messiah
Who, in his life was as a pariah
So Jesus Barabbas and Jesus, God’s son
Both the same as the Yom Kippur run.
One to die for the nation’s sin
The other goes free, a new life to begin
So once again, tales are repeated
Truth is irrelevant and facts are cheated
The story’s concept is really what matters
With “our guy” looking good, the facts can be battered.
Here I stand, a godless monk
Without account, my soul is sunk.
My name won’t make the Book of Life
’Cause I’ve been such a cruel ex-wife.
I cursed you in a thousand ways
(There’s been no “high” in holidays.)
The one with whom anew you’d start:
I wished she’d crush your faithless heart.
I hoped in Leadville the spill you’d take
Would leave your back with chronic ache.
A gleeful anticipation would start to thrive
While imagining you cut a wire live.
So, here’s my prayer, albeit unholy:
I wish my thoughts were a bit less lowly.
If I can’t be good, at least I hope to find God
So I can achieve a peaceful facade.
Though rage may be slow to subside,
This year I hope to turn the tide.
While never shall I wish you well
Next year, no longer I’ll hope you in hell.