Long Chanukah Poems
Long Chanukah Poems. Below are the most popular long Chanukah by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chanukah poems by poem length and keyword.
Butterflies do flutter by and
leaves quiver in the wind
wind willows along its course
a vortexual vacuum of air
air rains down in droplets of life
life is abundant flowering rife
flowers delicately spread thier seed
so whispful the wind is all they need
whispy seeds and whispy wings
wings of bugs spreading things
of every fashion and imagineable type
imagination the heart of life
heart is the centre of what we are
all things have one even stars
stars so bright inspiring life
such distant points in inky night
night the fall of the day
day be born then of suns rays
rays like warm beams of love
a moonlit night a freedom dove
dove of peace 'tween God and man
man measures all things if he can
the rainbows promise and ever span.
A discordant drumbeat from Washington comes
Lawmakers to senseless partisanship succumb
Midst the darkness, light a candle
Pave the way for the Savior to come
From the Oval Office menacing texts and tweets
Leaving a sour taste behind holiday treats
Midst the darkness, light a candle
Thrill to the triumph of the Maccabees**
Social media's blasphemers, angry trolling mobs
Intimidating their victims, making them sob
Midst the darkness, light a candle
Send a signal to the bullies and snobs
Terrorism the world over rears its ugly head
So many innocents, injured or dead
Midst the darkness, light a candle
May the Flame of Goodness be spread
**The Maccabees restored and rededicated the Temple in Jerusalem,
including the Menorah Lamp, their brave deeds memorialized in the
Holiday of Chanukah.
In the starlight evading,
On the crease of decision,
The New fallen justice,
Lay dormant and yet...
All potters and priests,
Suckle tragic enigmae,
And wait in the aisle,
For alchemist treats.
In the starlight evading,
From the genuine flesh
These potters and priests
view the science of fear.
Pasting and painting
Faces of nakedness,
These priests and these potters
Undu their veneer.
In the starlight evading,
Working backwards from winning,
Some potters, one priest
Panspermiate change.
Unlocking, deducing
This potter and priest,
Set sights and maimed reason
To round out their virtue
Yet starlight evading
In gracious reduction,
Leaves na'ry a glimpse
Of the joust in the night,
Betwixt and between
Potters and priests
Divinate magic and tally
The sins of today.
What stones tell
I followed a track in the landscape, rocks dug up
clay clings to the stones unhappy and exposed in the daylight
need a good shower, but it will not rain for a while.
Not that it matters, stones will be churned into grit this year.
They have been in a dreamy limbo for aeons; the dream they
dreamt is a whisper in the wind, walk softly and listen.
TV is full of triviality photogenic politicians who talk loudly
are our leaders of tomorrow.
False promises, forgotten like the grit.
Dream time over, what is left is the stark truth giving light
in the walk of the life destined for us, the human race
as the stones murmur in the wind.
‘Twas the night before Christmas and I didn’t care;
I had dozens of latkes I had to prepare.
The menorah was ready, with candles to light,
Waiting there by the window, a wonderful sight.
The presents were wrapped and I lined up the dreidels;
The soup was a’bubble, with floating knaidels.
The applesauce waited to chill in the fridge
In a Chanukah bowl. (Yes, I tasted a smidge.)
The cookies were baked like my grandmother taught,
(So much better than any that anyone bought)
Shaped like candles and dreidels and six-sided stars;
There were plenty to fill cookie platters and jars.
When I suddenly sensed there was something the matter.
I raced to the kitchen – the oil was a’splatter!
For while I was fixing the festive display,
I should have been frying (not quite my forte).
The first batch of latkes was burnt to a crisp
And smoke filled the kitchen (much more than a wisp),
But tying my apron for take number two,
I ditched all the burnt ones and knew what to do.
I lowered the flame and reheated some oil,
Plopping spoonfuls of batter I wouldn’t let spoil.
Then I conjured my childhood and Chanukahs past,
When I had no idea years would fly by so fast.
And I pictured my nana and grandma, as well
As my parents, my grandfathers and Aunt Sydelle
And my brothers and sister and cousins galore
And my uncles and aunts I’ve not mentioned before.
While my latkes were frying, so crispy and gold,
I remembered how Chanukah used to unfold,
When we played with our dreidels and gathered our gelt,
In our family’s embrace and the love we all felt.
So I cooked the new latkes with patience and care,
Knowing that with my kids and my grandkids I’d share
All the pent-up emotions I’ve hidden inside
With a platter of latkes, now perfectly fried.
And to all who will celebrate Chanukah time,
I do hope there’s a lesson for you in this rhyme –
For the very-best feelings our childhoods instill,
Through traditions, our hearts and our bellies will fill.
December 7, 2022
There they go down the street
Even before they had anything to eat
During this tradition that has no admission
People have a wide-eyed appeal
Since this party is truly the real deal
When marchers march, dancers dance, and balloons fly knowing they are there to introduce one special guy.
It is Santa Claus of course using reindeers instead of a horse
But do not be afraid since this is a special day when we have enough room to say
The holidays are coming, and it is time to start the running,
Unless you were prepared when you visited last month’s book fair
It was at The Austin Macauley booth where there was proof
The spirit of giving can come alive in one sitting
When the book bought had the right hook instead of explaining how to cook
Sit by the fire and do not worry what’s in the National Enquirer.
Since true fiction does not hurt
Instead it is just the way an author flirts
Whether the setting is betting at the wedding
Or a damsel always in the press
A reader never has to confess when they enjoy hearing about the characters mess.
So, when you make that retail decision without getting anyone’s permission
It is the magic of the pages that makes it all right to spend your wages
So, invest in a published writing and stay away from those who are fighting.
Let the pages fly, enjoy a nice cry knowing what is on sale at Austin Macauley is always a good buy.
Our Chanukah Menorah
Inhaling sparked air, candlestick wicks,
Exhaling gold leaping tongues,
Hypnotize more than magic tricks,
Sharing a story, singing songs,
8 illumined nights lighting 36,
Freeing us from "Yavan" wrongs,
Swallowing, hallowing, glowing licks,
Releasing an infinite light the world longs,
Flames flickering "Shalom", a "Tikun Olam" fix,
Assuring the throng all men belong,
Trust, peace, hope, no gimmicks!
As the Sensations of The sound of silence, combustion song,
The Subtle smell of fresh burning oil or wax mix
With the seen Shape of gulping flames oblong,
Taste of butter, caramel & vanilla sticks,
Are among the many reactions of each among
Us - on the menorah watch inspired by the ignited fanatics!
I use my grandma’s cookie shapes
For Chanukah each year.
They’re plastic and so very old
They might not persevere.
The candle cutter’s broken
So it’s hard to get a grip
On the pieces (there are 3 of them),
Especially the tip.
Since I’d hate to leave a shape out,
I just take an extra sec,
But today, between the batches,
I looked down and – what the heck?
For the candle tip was missing
And it wasn’t on the floor.
I had used it, so this wasn’t something
I could just ignore.
If I’d rolled it in a cookie,
An occurrence I would doubt,
Then the batter wouldn’t flatten
Since that piece would stick right out.
For a while I was stymied,
Then I checked one ball of dough
Which I’d gathered up until
My cookie sheet had room to go.
And voila! I found that sucker
And the lesson that I learned
Is to keep track of the flames
Wherever candles are concerned.
I’ve never had a Christmas tree
Nor stockings filled with treats.
I’ve never gone to midnight mass
Nor hoped for Santa-meets.
I’ve never woken Christmas morn
With presents to unwrap
And no one in my household
Ever wore a stocking cap.
I’ve never eaten Christmas ham
Or fruitcake and to drink,
My sibs and I stirred rags for “eggnog”
In the basement sink.
But don’t feel bad for me because
I celebrated, too.
The holiday of Chanukah
Was what my family knew.
We had our presents and our foods
And candles every night,
With songs and family gathered ‘round,
Eight days of pure delight.
But still, today, I’d like to wish
Amid the bright displays,
To all my Christmas friends
The very merriest of days.
I got my box of candles
With exactly forty-four.
I hope that I don’t break one
If it bounces on the floor.
Or maybe one’s defective
With a wick that just won’t catch,
Despite the fact I’ll light it
Using match plus match plus match.
Occasionally, one is bent
And will not stand up straight,
But leaving it behind, of course,
Is not up for debate.
A box of cards was always packed,
Since errors do get made,
With one or two more envelopes
Than for the cards displayed.
Yet candle boxes take a chance
That nothing will go wrong
And there will be enough each night
To sing the candle song.