Long Unleavened bread Poems
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Charoset is a sweet, brown relish eaten during Passover.
It symbolizes brick mortar on a plate during a Seder.
This is a sweet treat made for the season in all nations.
There is no single recipe. Existing are many variations.
Included are apples, raisins, dates, and cinnamon.
Sometimes added are walnuts, figs, pomegranates, and saffron.
Charoset is usually placed between layers of unleavened bread.
Its thick texture makes it something easy to spread.
Often "dukeh" and "halegh" can be used as a designation.
May this Passover food be handed down to each generation.
I thank wikipedia.org for valuable information I obtained to write this poem.
Distress is my pain empire
Fluttered in my Liar Mentality…truth be told while I be bold…letting time unwind…
I’m sorry – I’m no higher
Than a King from on High…but, I don’t mind…
Descending from the Stairway of Heaven…walkin’ that confident stride to 7-11
Rainbow smoke sifts out my desire’s fire…
Seep into me…get the dust in my mouth…bring me on Cloud 7
High and drunk off your beat, my empire…
The Day of Unleavened bread is comin’ up…
Gotta get rid of hanging sin from my chin…shattered like a china cup…
On the floor…on the floor…
You don’t like me much anymore…
Heart broken… a pain left unspoken…
I’m climbing higher than the clouds
I’m climbing the mountains of shrouds
Smiling in the face of hardships
Grimacing and arriving undone
Breaking up with breaking down…
Breaking up with breaking down…
Breaking up with breaking down…
It’s killing me
Quietly, I’m alive…
I will survive…
Yet, arriving undone…
I’m alive…
Infatuated by hella fun…
Losing my train of thot…
Untie me from this knot…
I love my pain like the drug Lithium…
Numb my pain, leaving me feelin’ dumb
Have faith and hope – it’s derived from the disability of my energy drainage (a feeling of weariness)
These shattered dreams I long to cope with…catfishing for no reason and downloading useless files won’t help me through this rampage…
On this page…
Of blank stares…
Imagining swaying rocking chairs and iridescent stairs…
I’m invincible…
I’m invisible…
I may be irresistible…
But, don’t hurt me…I’m irritable and sensitive…
Immature behaviors are apparently legal at home…
In this house of abuse – I’m a weird, fuzzy moose…let go and let live…
Let me let out my fumes of manlihood…
Heat waves of be-brave sweep into me
Sweat of defeat trickle down my face,
Attempting to keep pace and tying your shoe lace
Aiming my shadows and reflections on “to-be-or-not-to-be”
The sculptor became jaded with prostitutes
the young ones were vacuous,
their bodies unleavened bread.
The mature subjects
scored by the violence of disappointment.
Both the naive and the world-weary
were dull molds.
The artist and anatomist, delved deeply into
the nature of form, he craved perfection.
a risen Venus, immaculate.
He dissected; plucked at visions.
On moonless nights
carried corpses on muffled barrow wheels.
By the light of a hundred candles,
he eased flesh apart,
nose swathed in verbena drenched rags,
hands tweaking, tracing tissue,
seeking once sensuous shapes
under sallow remains.
He worked with live models, hired women
of every class.
The rich were flattered, vain, the poor always
eager to earn.
None made the stone under his hands blossom.
It was a matter of timing, catching Venus
as she emerged from her littoral crest.
It seemed his models
were always coming to, or moving away
from that conjunction,
yet he kept opening mythical shells
until death took him.
At his funeral his straight-backed widow,
adorned in darkest weeds,
hid her anger well,
secretly despising those cold hands
that never did understand
the revelations of female imperfections.
I let them all pass over me –
The cheery Happy Easters!
Assuming I will be among
Today’s hot cross bun feasters.
But no, I won’t be eating lamb
Or ham with all its glazing,
Although I’m sure the Easter pies
My friend makes are amazing.
For I’m observing Pesach,*
So what I will eat instead
Will be matzoh or its relatives,
All with unleavened bread.
Of course, there’s meat and chicken,
Lots of veggies, eggs and fruit
And special cakes and cookies,
Made with matzoh meal, to boot.
I used to set those people straight
Whose greetings had no clue
That Easter’s not for everyone,
But I no longer do.
When people offer me a wish
For a Happy Easter day,
I smile and say, “The same to you”
And send them on their way.
*Passover
I saw her sitting placidly on a wide stone
Sucking sweet strawberries.
She picked a fruit
Pinching the leaves and sucked on the fruit.
She was completely oblivious of me
Despite that I was one of her regular buyers.
A slight warm breeze flowed from a near by field.
Rows and rows of plants with pods of broad beans
Hanging from the stems,
Young tender beans so sweet in flavour.
I love the taste of unleavened bread,
Saturated with strong olive oil, tomato paste,
Capers and sliced olives and beans.
A glass of beer would compliment all.
The young woman now looked at me.
I asked to buy some beans.
We did not haggle.
But I had to pick the pods myself!
On my return I saw she still sucked strawberries.
She stood up to receive the money.
I stood still watching the red wet mouth.
Impulsively I kissed her.
She did not resist.
She smiled and handed me a small container
Full of lovely red strawberries.
She smiled and sweetly said:
Compliments of a kiss.
The green and blue sky is weeping wondrously
My soarless wings of mine is damp with jealousy
This mind of mine — half blank, half fragmented with wit
This heart of yours — it beats for me alone? I hardly doubt it
The yellow and red is the rivers of rowdiness of course
The mellow dread inside makes me want to die and divorce
These feelings of darksome gloom and the words I loathe or love
I can’t even fathom or think of…I just want to be your tranquil dove
I won’t feel anymore
I will numb to the core
I soar, I am oh so sore
I must open that opportunity door
I bust open the windows instead
I lust, I must stop this utter dread
I dust away the dust from my feet and eat unleavened bread
On the first day of the feast
of the eating of unleavened bread
His disciples came to him and said
Where shall we prepare for you to eat
Go into the city to a certain man
And saying to him of the masters need
his time is near and on this night
this night in your home he will feast
And that night as the disciples fed
Jesus blessed and broke the bread
And unto his disciples said
This my body does represent
Remember always as you do eat
this my body set aside for you
Remember my words I've said to you
that once again thou shall dwell with me
And then the Lord did take the cup
Blessed it and gave unto them
saying this cup does represent
the blood of my New Testament
for in my blood thou shall be cleaned
washing away all trace of sin
And once cleaned thou may enter in
our father's Kingdom and dwell with me
And rising up he took off his robe
around his waist a towel did wrap
With water and basin he washed the feet
till unto Peter he did come
And Peters said never shall you
be the one to wash my feet
and the Lord did say unto he
If I do not thou shall have no part of me
Author’s note; I’m not a songwriter but someone wanted me to try to do it and this is my first attempt at writing a theological song
Image of Officer Remembered by Fox News
Lamentations In Blue
You lie there like unleavened bread
A vestige of quaint repose
Pall box lined with a satin thread
Dapper in tailor-made clothes
An errant mind begs fulfillment
Though fruitless in its echo
Be thy fate rise from an ailment
Rest kindly for me, 'twas so
A shot rang out, whereto, you fell
Report states an err was made
Cleanly went through one bullet shell
For a man in blue hath paid
In a row, a graveside salute
Folded flag is presented
Brothers all from his police troop
My real bro., I lamented.
2019 May 26
*1st Place*
ALL YOURS (Jun 15)
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2021 June 15
A former slender man (lapsed Unitarian anorexic)...
deplores adipose tissue gain
No Holiday music can soothe savage beast
washboard abdomen weight watcher's dream fleeced
skinny bag of lovely bones permanently leased
body snatcher somewhere amidst policed
madding crowd of carolers singing,
where mine sinking spirits ceased
rising today December 18th, 2020
analogous how unleavened bread
(i.e. matzo) lacks yeast.
I loathe shucking clothes,
(no matter eyes severely myopic)
in preparation for here goes
another warm shower quickly
relaxing this senescent
body ready to doze
soon after lathering
this blubbery body
most unwanted fat grows
on me, no matter healthy diet
of worms, or how I stand,
not so easy (Etsy) as add a pose
zing losing battle – Mary Jo's
if and geeze us of bulge ill flattering
particularly quiverly, sans white
"WALL" tire tread fully goes
steely belted around lower
abdominal area like lava floes
siring unsightly expose
yore squishy Jew dish priestly
punchy, plasma paunchy, gristly...
pillow like marshmallows
fittingly, rotundly soundly
identical with other schlep
tin (tin tabulation) grungy hobos,
this lap pissed lard (lord) Who Lee
bemoaning, how ilk readily knows,
where unwanted bulky flab...
most detested - hence Corp Yule Lance
leaves noth thin to noblesse oblige,
know bull eats obese,
anorexia nervosa or chance
barking out orders reminiscent, when he
hapt tubby a caller wannabe at
weekly square and/or contra dance,
now requisitioned to insulate
and excessively enhance
body electric can be mushed
into likeness of fleshy France
or repurposed into expanse
resembling any country,
whose name Kants
be easily pronounced, and historical
events glommed together recognizable
as Ataturk with a lance
bequeathed to rule World advance
sing gluttony as his divine providence,
thus requires deep dish allegiance
(non - fiber - binding contract)
for eats and make decadent
every fleshpot gourmand
stretching consumer cellular
skein to capacitance
bestowing guaranteed deliverance
with their rolling
ballooning massive circumference
into orbit with Earthly moon officiant
eternal fondue irrelevance!
Occasionally I dream.
Black ominous spots in my closed eyes.
Dreams I never remember,
Dreams I don't want to remember.
For when I do I cringe with fear
Sit in a corner of my darkened room,
Trying unsuccessfully to forget.
Fitful recurring dreams,
That leaves the palate dry,
Devoid of savored zest,
Flat as unleavened bread.
Dark shadows in a dark room,
Swirling, gasping, mutely roaring,
Ugly, brusque, dyspeptic, and morose.
It gyrates meaninglessly in the void,
A menacing, unpleasant stench
That eventually dissolves into nothingness.
Dreams orchestrated to confuse,
Meant to gradually unhinge the mind.
So occasionally I dream.
The rest I am awake to face
The terrors of the night.
Note: I wrote this poem in 2003. never posted as far as I know. Sometimes I enjoy dark poems but they are FICTIONAL.