Sorted!

I didn't know she was dislexic
When I criticized her filing.
I apologised.
We hugged.
Now everything's k.o.


Limmud Food
When I come to Limmud
The Sessions are good,
But why is there such
A long wait for the food?
This delay in my fressin'
Can cause me much stressin',
More so when it makes me
Late for my next session.
This logistical problem
Will beat every planner
Until they can make the food
Come down like Manna.

Shabbat
Oy Vay! It will soon be Shabbat.
Prepare the candles; set the table; get ready for shul  - no time to rest.

Limmud Haikus
1.   Midrash and Movies
      Rafi and Nathan in dinner
      Suits, licenced to thrill.

2.   Conference 2012
      Everyone has a pink bag.
      Are all Limmudniks gay?

3.   Wood, strings, metal. Dead
      Until tied with chords and skill.
      Then a harmony.

The Royal Foetus

Here is a modular poem.  below, I have appended various options for the third and fourth lines, which you can select according to taste (or lack thereof)

The Royal pair have feasted on sprout.
It's had an effect, without doubt.
[See below
                                                  ]
Because she's got one up the spout.*

* this line might need slight tweaking depending on which of the following  missing lines you opt for.

Options for third and fourth lines
A: The result of their f***ing
     Is that Kate is up-chucking

B: This royal fornication
     has delighted the nation

C: Because those sprouts from Brussels
     Sustained William's muscles

D: Pippa's next book, in future
      Is the royal Karma Sutra

E: Because the Royal Willy
     Has covered the filly

Shir Hashavua - Vayishlach

This week's parasha recites a number of traumatic events in Jacob's life, including the kidnapping and rape of his daughter Dinah.  Here's my take on it.

Weapons of Violence
Hamor, prince of Shechem did rape Dinah,
Although she cried for help and no-one heard.
He took no note of her sad demeanour
And thought she's marry him, which was absurd.
When Jacob heard of this, he was surprised
And said he would not consent to the match
Until the Shechemites were circumcised
Which they agreed to do with much dispatch.
So every man of Shechem trimmed his chopper.
Then, while in pain from penile servitude
Through two of Jacob's sons they came a cropper
As punishment for Hamor's turpitude;
And thus did Dinah manage to escape
The day Levi and Simeon went ape.
 

Another historical poem

My wargaming horizons at present are largely taken up with 17th century warfare, since my wargames club is running an English Civil War tournament. This year is the 380th anniversary of the
battle of Lutzen in November 1632 where Swedish King Gustavus Adolphus was killed.

Here is a poem that came to me today (based on these historical events).

Un-veg-etable

Gustavus Adolphus was king of the Swedes;

The root cause of many a fight.

He beat his opponents with consummate ease

As they said let us now take to flight.

Our Gus was a difficult man to appease

And the Baltic he viewed as his lake,

But his big ship the Vasa, made from many trees

Leaked and sank, which he found hard to take.

In the Thirty Years' War, led his troops overseas

Where they took on their Catholic foes

Till, peppered by shot, he was brought to his knees

And at Lutzen did turn up his toes.

He was dicing with death every time that he fought

And was bound to one day come to harm

And the sixth of November’s the day that we ought

To recall. That’s when he bought the farm.

 

Oh what a lovely war

Here is a poem prompted by remembrance weekend.

"Oh what a lovely war"

Last night a war took place where no-one died.
It took place in a pub in Camden Town.
With several hundred soldiers on each side
Who represented armies of renown.
Commanding generals, well-supplied with beer
Deployed their armies on the battlefield
Where not one soldier manifested fear
Or ran way, or tried to hide or yield.
For nearly three full hours the armies battled
And by that time the fighting was all done.
'Twas sound of dice, not musketry, which rattled
The generals shook hands and agreed who'd won,
Then left without a shred of shame or guilt
For in a wargame, no-one's blood is spilt.

Here's a poem for next week's parasha - Va'era - the story of Abraham and Sara.

"Inheritance"

Sara was horrible to Hagar
And vexed her with turmoil and toil.
Whilst Sarah's descendants got Torah,
Hagar's now have all the oil.

"The Last Word"

Andrew Mitchell was rude to that Copper
Although he didn't have Turettes,
And now, at last, he's come a cropper
Despite expressing his regrets.

To call him a pleb was just absurd
And showed his poor control of wrath.
But the boys in blue had the last word
For Mitchell is a cyclopath.

Here's one about the first chapter of the book of Genesis, which we read in synagogue this morning.

"God's Diary"

Sunday - up before the lark
Separated light from dark.
Monday - started before seven
Working on this thing called Heaven.
Tuesday - I was very pleased,
Made the land and plants and seas.
Wednesday - Had a lot of fun
Finishing the moon and sun.
Thursday -used a lot of words
Making fish, insects and birds.
Friday- made mankind and beasts,
Then prepared my Sabbath feast.
Saturday - today's the best.
I get a chance to sit and rest.
This perfect world -
Took me all week to knock it up.
Now watch mankind cock it up.  

Here's a new poem on a topical issue.

"Goodbye"

Teresa May
Has had to pray
That Hamza and his mates
Would not find a new legal dodge
To not go to the States,
And though they went back
To the Court
And played it by the book,
The Court said "No.
You've got to go."
So May is off the Hook.

Paralympic poems

I was lucky enoughto attend the Olympics (hockey) and Paralympics (Athletics).. All the compliments about smiling security staff and games makers are absolutely true.

We saw the great Oscar Pistorius run in that unbelievable 200 metres race last Sunday night when he was beaten by Alan Oliveira, and the evening ended in style when David Weir won the 5000 metres T54 race.

Here are some pics (courtesy of my wife Ruth) and a few poems.

There's a wonderful team called GB
Which represents people like me.
They've won shedloads of medals
Using boats legs and pedals
And I've watched it, sat on my settee.

(To the tune of the National Anthem)

On track or tv screen
Just once a drama queen
Greatest we've seen.
Mostly victorious
Happy and Glorious
Well done, Oscar  Pistorius
Best there's ever been.

Weirwolf in London...

The Olympic Flame

The Olympic flame came past my office this morning. Here are some photos and the obligatory ditty.




The Torch comes to Harrow on the Hill

 (To the tune of "Molly Malone")
In London's fair city
Where the traffic flow's sh....awful
I first set my eyes on the Olympic flame.
It was carried through Harrow
Through a street which was narrow
Just two days before the start of this year's games.

Alive, alive -o-oh, alive, alive-o-oh
Ran a young man with muscles
Alive, alive-o.

Archtypal British scene;   crowd, sponsors, policeman, Union Jack

There were large crowds to greet it.

I bet many have tweeted

That fine summer morning up here on the hill.

There were dancers and big floats

And police in high-viz coats.

To see the real torch was, for many, a thrill.



The Olympic Head of Security breaks free of his handcuffs and waves to the crowd as he's carted off to the nick..  



Alive, alive -o-oh, alive, alive-o-oh 

Ran a young man with muscles
Alive, alive-o.



A topical song (to the tune of "Diamonds are Forever")

Diamond is forever
It costs too much to relieve him.
When he speaks you can't believe him.
He just rigs interest rates
With his bent city mates
To hurt us.....

Diamond is forever
'Cos the banks think that they own us,
So, Big Deal, he waived his bonus.
He'll just massage the facts so he won't pay much tax.
He's gone too far,  like Jimmy Carr.
What good will Diamond do me?
He'll continue to screw me.
He's lost his cred
Like Fred the Shred..
Diamond is forever, forever forever
Daimond is forever, forever, forever
Forever,   and Ever.

Historical poems

I have penned a few ditties recently about various events in history.  Here they are:

Incitatus:
Amongst the Roman Consuls Incitatus was unique
Though several historians regard him as a freak.
The Emperor Caligula, assured of his divinity
Promoted Incitatus, which he viewed with equine-imity
He could not speak in the Senate or lead legionaries in force
Due to the simple fact that Incitatus was a horse.

Pyrrhus:

Pyrrhus of Epirus, who terrorised Rome
Paid a visit to Argos and he ain't going home.
Once so full of life, he is now lying dead
'Cos an evil old bat threw a tile at his head.
Though his army had elephants, swords and sarissas*
They could not protect him from this missile-armed Missus.

* a sarissa is a 5-metre long pike.

Henry:
To have a fine son was King Henry's main hope.
When Queen Kate couldn't have one, he petitioned the Pope.
"If I make a donation, can I have a divorce?".
When the Pope said "No". Henry resorted to force.
There then followed decades of turmoil and strife
Whilst Henry kept changing his previous wife.
Two more Kates, two Annes and a lady called Jane
Still the search for the perfect wife ended in vain.
We now know why Henry spent so long at war.
He was steering well clear of his mothers-in-law.

This week's parasha is the first one in the book of Numbers. In Hebrew, the book (and this week's parasha)  is called "Bamidbar", which means "in the Wilderness".  In this week's parasha, God instructs Moses to count the children of Israel, and the census is the inspiration for the following song.  Whilst there is a clear link between census and numbers, given the events which take place during the whole book, I think the term "numbers" could be amplified to read "numbers of people who suffer a horrible death"

Bamidbar

(to the tune of “Annie’s Song” by John Denver)

Go fill up my census of the Children of Israel

From age twenty to sixty, all the military men

While they’re here in the desert, and the tribes aren’t in motion.

Don’t include the Levite; leave out the Cohen.

Count the Priests with the Levites, cos they give their lives to me,

From one month up to eighty, let these guys not bear arms.

They must pray and inspire you; they will lead you and bless you;

They don’t need redeeming, by Pid ‘yon Ha Ben.*

Go fill up my census of the Children of Israel

From age twenty to sixty, all the military men

While they’re here in the desert, and the tribes aren’t in motion.

In a subsequent Parasha,  we’ll do it again.

* a ceremony in which a first-born son, who is symbolically dedicated to God at birth   is "bought back" from God's representatives, the Cohens (priests) at one month old. First-born sons of priests and Levites are exempt from this requirement. 

New Poem - B'Shallach

This week's parasha is B'Shallach. It is the "all-action movie" part of the 5 books of Moses; - Pharaoh's army pursues the Children of Israel to the Red Sea; the Red Sea parts and the Israelites cross;  Egypt's army gets swept away; the Children of Israel get miraculously fed with Manna; Moses produces water in the desert; there's a fight with the Amalekites..

Here is my take on it;

B'Shallach

Moan, moan, moan; that's all that you do.

You don't understand what's the role of a Jew.

I freed you from Egypt so that you can serve me.

The way you behave I'm not sure you deserve me.

To the shore of the Red Sea I led you and guided

You doubted my power 'till the waters divided.

After singing my praises you resumed your bad mood

And moaned at the volume and taste of your food.

I said not to gather manna on Shabbat

One simple mitzvah; you can't even keep that.

And then for good measure you made a complaint

When you thought that from shortage of water you'd faint.

At Meribah I gave you a well for relief

But STILL you continue to cause me much grief.

You ungrateful lot!  You sure have some neck.

You can now deal with my complaints guy, Amalek.

Shir HaShavua - Shemot

This week, we start the book of Exodus.  The first parasha is called "Shemot", which means "names".  Here is a song about this week's parasha.

  Shemot

(to the tune of “I’m just a girl who can’t say No” from “Oklahoma”)

It ain't so much a question of not knowin' they are Jews

They know what's right and wrong since way back when.

I heard a lot of stories --and I reckon they're true--

About how they’re oppressed by Pharaoh’s men.

I know they mustn't fall into the pit,

But following their religion ...

They fergit!

I'm just the Lord who they don’t know,

They’re in a terrible fix.

They’ve got to build those pyramids

And they must make their own bricks.

When a Hebrew cries and asks of Me ,

Why Pharoah’s men are giving him a smack;

And why should he believe in Me

When he’s a slave and nearly breaks his back!

I'm just the Lord who they don’t know,

Eh’yeh asher Eh’yeh *

That’s what I said to Moshe

They don’t realise that I care

They just don’t know.

I'm just the Lord who they don’t know,

There ain’t much more they can fall.

They have no faith that I will show

Why don’t they give me a call?

For I’ll visit them while they’re in shul,

A-praying and a worshipping to me -

Then remind them of that golden rule...

I do exist and I will set them free!

I can't resist a sincere prayer,  or a nice musical chant

If only they could, but they can’t;

Because they’re so ignorant

They just don’t know!

* Exodus Chapter 3, verse 14; often mistranslated as the present tense "I am that I am" instead of the future "I will be what I will be"   

Back from Limmud

I’ve just come home from Limmud conference, which as usual was held over six days at the University of Warwick.  Limmud, for those unfamiliar with it, is a Jewish educational organization, run mainly by amateur volunteers, which is intended to make Jewish learning accessible to all parts of the Jewish community.  Its main event is Limmud Conference in December, and as a family, we have attended most of these conferences over the past eight years. We always come back spiritually and emotionally enriched from the learning and fun we have experienced, and the buzz of meeting up with old friends and making new ones, and physically and mentally knackered after a frenetic week of long hours and little sleep.

 

Music, poetry, politics, culture, cooking, religious study, comedy; most areas of interest are represented in the hundreds of sessions available at Limmud, all presented by volunteer presenters, some of whom are distinguished academics. I got to present some of my “shtick” at a few sessions; the revamped Christmas carols were well –received.  

Here are some photos of the Limmud house band, the Token Vegetation Band, backing kosher gospel singer Joshua Nelson at his concert. My son Nathan is the guitarist.

I composed a number of poems and songs recently.

Here are some Christmas carols with revised words:

(To the tune of Good King Wenceslas)

King Antiochus look out. You'd better be believin'

Maccabees are after you, wanting to get even.

First they'll kill your army boys, 'cos they're bad and cruel.

Then the Menorah will stay lit

Eight days with one day's fu-u-el.

____________________________________________

(To the tune of Jingle Bells)

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way.

The Ark comes to Jerusalem. King David leads the way.

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way.

Oh what fun to be a Jew on such a happy day.

Riding past the crowd, in a great big chariot

The High Priest wears his formal clothes although the weather's hot.

King David leads the dancing though he's not so smartly dressed.

He shows the crowd his tuchas and his wife is not impressed*.

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way.

The Ark comes to Jerusalem. King David lead the way.

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way.

Oh what fun to be a Jew on such a happy day.

____________________________________________________

(to the tune of  “Tidings of comfort and Joy”)

Lord bless those Jerry mental men who think the Euro's sound.

Well stick that up your orifice, we're sticking with the Pound.

You won't bail out the Euro 'cos the money can't be found

No tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy. No tidings of comfort and joy.

 

You want the Euro to endure from now for ever more.

The Euro has big problems which you really can't ignore

And all this is just sour grapes because you lost the war

No tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy. No tidings of comfort and joy.

 

The Euro's drifting everywhere because it's lost its anchor.

We have to sort the problem out. Let's start by shooting bankers

And then the politicians 'cos they're just a bunch of .......idiots

No tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy. No tidings of comfort and joy.

_________________________________________________________________

 

At Limmud, a friend of ours informed us on Saturday lunchtime that the fire alarm in her building went off at 7.40 that morning, causing the building to be evacuated.

This gave rise to the following poem:

The Fire Alarm

It was twenty to eight Shabbat morning

In the building known as Jack Martin

When the fire alarm bell, without warning,

Woke up the Limmudniks therein.

 

They had to assemble outside

Some wearing not much more than gatkes

In case they, by a fire, were fried

And were turned into big Kosher Latkes.

 

Some thought it was a cunning plan

To get everyone out of their room

In time to attend morning service

Whether or not they were frum.

 

What caused the alarm bell to ring

As though by a technical hitch?

Did some Rabbi trigger the thing

With a Shabbat-friendly time switch?

 

I attended some learning sessions about the Talmud  (a large body of Rabbinic gloss on Jewish Law compiled 1500~1800 years ago) . There are a number of esoteric stories in the Talmud, many of which are included for the purpose of the lessons they portray, rather than the truth of the facts in the story.  We studied two stories about Rabbis and prostitutes (presumably the forerunners of the “Bishop and the Actress” jokes).

Here is a poem about one of them. The Talmudic story is found in Menachot, 44a

The Naughty Rabbi

There was a naughty rabbi
Who didn't have a wife.
He went to shtup a prostitute
When a mitzvah saved his life.
He was just about to know her
When he got a sudden shock.
His tzitzit struck him in the face
And made him feel a shmock.
The prostitute converted
And  (this may cause you laughter)
She married him and they lived
Happily ever after. 

  I met Eve Grubin, my Biblical Poetry teacher, at Limmud this year. She once again urged me to try writing poetry in a freer form; i.e not necessarily rhyming or scanning.  This one is for her.

Ode to Eve

I studied Bible poetry. My teacher’s name is Eve.

I ran into her recently. She told me “I believe

Your poetry is good, but you know, it’s not a crime

To write some lines of poetry which do not scan or rhyme.”

I like my lines of poetry to rhyme and to scan

But out of respect for Eve, this one doesn’t.