Sunday, 25 November 2012

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.

Friday, 23 November 2012

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).


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.


Saturday, 10 November 2012

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.