A temporary dwelling, built for my family and me
How could I build it, barely able to see
A palm-frond provided with sharp-needled stalks
How could I buy one, I no longer walk
Delicious meals prepared by my wife’s loving hands
How can I help her, I longer stand
Sweet, festive songs sung to melodious tunes
How can I sing, my hearing’s in ruins
I am so grateful, though dependent on others
My caring, devoted Jewish sisters and brothers
________________________________________________________________________
Notes:
In Israel and the world over, Jews eat, recreate, and sleep in tempor-
ary huts called 'sukkot' for seven days during this festival. The holiday
is named 'Sukkot' after these huts.
We wave/shake palm-fronds, myrtle and willow leaves in synagogue,
as part of prayers for rain (in Israel) in its season - i.e., after(!) the festival.
We must not drink or eat
Absolutely nothing to drink or eat, I repeat
Forget sex, there’s no holding hands
Even a peck on the cheek is banned
As for washing, bathing, or showering
Maybe a maybe, if one's odor is overpowering
All of this, and Yom Kippur is called a holiday
~ Easy to see why the whole day in synagogue we pray!
The day he found the sausage
is a day I’ll not forget
Another piece of childhood
that is permanently set
The sausage had been purchased
while he was on a trip
Shoved way back, forgotten
til he got back from the ship
The shouting was ear-shattering
I didn’t understand
My Father screamed while holding-up
the sausage in his hand
He ranted it was sinful
Muslim law forbid they eat
Any type of pig or swine
or any pork type meat
He flung it out the window
and it made it past the yard
Landing on the synagogue
where pork was also barred
Then from the kitchen window
I watched the crows appear
And feast upon the sausage sweet
so far and yet, so near
I knew it wasn’t Kosher
could evil lightning spark
Should we tell the Rabbi
as the sky was getting dark
If they found the sausage
they would never know the why
Of how religious rage took hold
and made the sausage fly
OLD DOMINION U
ALSO A SYNAGOGUE TOO
TRUMP BILLS COMING DUE
Take your pick
Jihadi attack on a synagogue here
A college campus, or night club there
Or maybe even a spontaneous bombing
Of an organized protest about the very threat
Such a bombing so clearly proves.
Each day you have your pick,
Freedom of speech you might say
Now morphed into freedom of murder,
Each of us free to choose
Where we come down
In the endless war on terror.
(3/12/26)
A young musician who played the blues
Was told he had to pay his dues
So he went to a synagogue with his pay
And thought that he could pay that way.
The rabbi said “you silly fool
What you’re doing isn’t cool
Instead of paying Jews
You’re supposed to pay your dues”.
The young musician was quite apologetic
As the rabbi bordered on the apoplectic
Never again will he make this mistake
Or was it all just a piss-take?
To live or die—Aye! that's the basic rub;
whether to drown in a flooded bathtub,
or to imagine the event in rhyme,
where do I find the tendency or time
to form such explosive, incendiary lines
that map the architecture of live mines?
To live or die—Alas! what's the insight?
Do I fall on my sword to end my plight,
or go on a spree and shoot up the mall
like white power, for my country and for all?
Or do I shoot a synagogue full of Jews,
for my childhood Rabbi's sexual abuse?
To live or die—O, God! Where must I turn?
The inward gaze alone makes the soul burn.
Yet senseless murder offers a false light,
a hotter, brighter blaze to end the night.
A fighter, I'll let my words' power inspire,
and won't set Denbigh Baptist Church on fire!
Today is the Jewish Day of Atonement,
A day to look deep into your thoughtful soul.
To make things right, with all you’ve wronged.
And stop, with your own, self-righteous songs.
To contact each person in fullest honesty!
Later in synagogue,honor in song, our beloved dead.
And of any harm you caused the living, make things right.
Yom Kippur begins ….as the golden sun sets tonight!
Last week we celebrated the first day of New Year, Rosh Hashanah,
The day that Adam was created, the very most mbeginning
Of all the most colorful, human race.
The Jewish New Year, with joyousness, I hope do partake.!
Am Yisrael Chai!
Panagiota Romios
10/1/2025
I sit beneath the bamboo tree with my head resting on my knees
I wasn’t sure what time it is but the sun had gone down and the
Birds in the trees were crying out; I sat there listening quietly to nature sounds and watching the bamboo dancing to the rhythm of the howling wind while I hum a woeful hymn of long ago about the dust and the bowl and the noisy owl. I sat beneath the bamboo tree with my heart laden with misery; I try to force a tender smile, but my heart kept moving with the tide, and the pigment in the skies disappears and rain clouds appear. I sat there until it was dark then I slowly made my way back to the yard. The mountain suddenly fell from my head when I heard the news that you were coming to the synagogue to bury the dead. At first, I thought it was a dream but when I saw you in person my spirit began to scream and everything came alive
Take me to the blue lagoon there is something magnificent that you have to see and when you wet your feet in the water, all the demons will get up and flee.
Terrorists rule and innocents die
Missiles rain down from an unfriendly ski
Which rhetoric do you believe
When there is nothing left except to grieve
Will the eagle ever fly with the dove?
Fire lights an unfriendly scene
As a Synagogue burns in an antisemitic theme
The are you Jewish question sorts the crowd
Banned at University Jews are not allowed
Will the eagle ever fly with the dove?
The cult of personality rises as dictators reign
Their armies destroying as their refrain
Ordinary people pay the price
With human lives lost in war’s vice
Will the eagle ever fly with the dove?
What it seems is there is never a time
When its peace on earth and kindness is sublime
How will we find this happiness
Where nations settle and world peace is blessed
Will the eagle ever fly with the dove?
© Paul Warren Poetry
Students asked if they were Jewish going into University lectures. Synagogue fire bombed. This is Australia and we don’t allow this to occur!!
Antisemitism
Children cut out of line
Being Jewish is their crime
Forced segregation is now the game
How long before cloth stars are warn in shame
Synagogue fires burn in the night
Cowards torch and run is their might
How long before the chimneys grow
Belching black smoke and ash as the wind blows
© Paul Warren Poetry
Never keep the garment of a poor man as a pledge
Return it to him. Let him not be on edge
Be it his work-shirt, take it at dusk and return it at dawn
For he has no other shirt to put on
Be it his night-shirt, take it at dawn and return it at dusk
Into it at bedtime he will gratefully tuck
Keep this precept and your debtor will bless you
The Almighty will count it for Righteousness too
______________________________________
Based on Deuteronomy 24:12-13
(Read in synagogue this Sabbath)
Jairus had faith in Jesus. He's a synagogue leader.
He was impelled to implore Jesus in his times of need.
Jesus knew his inmost heart, as he was a mind reader.
He pleaded with Jesus to heal his daughter. He agreed.
The compassion of Jesus the divine consoled Jairus.
She is not dead, he said. He called out Talitha Cumi.
All around him thought he wasn't aware of the crisis.
The girl rose up. All stood as though struck by a tsunami.
Full of concern, like a father, he told them to feed her.
They felt the Almighty himself had arrived before them.
With his affection, their gloomy existence, he did stir
Each little being, for him, was more than a precious gem.
Death is suffering; Jesus proved, life is a miracle.
When lost life is won, the joy gained is incomparable.
Cathedral Mosque
or Synagogue
their masquerade
the same
Preaching what
they don’t believe
the Good Lord
to profane
Christians Jews
and Muslims share
their hate for
other faiths
Self-righteous ire
scriptures burn
as blood flows
through the gate
Colleges and
social networks
homes where they
blaspheme
Younger hearts
and narrow minds
starving
to believe
The clock ticks down
as options die
in zero sum
degrees
The vilest thing
to haunt the earth
breeds death
— with each decree
(Dreamsleep: April, 2024)
The koala's spiritual beliefs
Are difficult to assess.
He attends no mosque or synagogue
And never does confess.
He's not a cannibal and so
Communion is appalling,
And as for gospel singing,
It's just so much caterwauling.
I suppose he's an agnostic,
Yet he often stops and ponders
The reason for this universe
And all its many wonders.
And so we must be satisfied
With this insight that's been slipped us,
While he goes back to being cute
And munching eucalyptus.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.