120 words
Tikkun Olam*
(Ekaterinburg, Russia, 17 July 1918)
His mouth agape, as though still asking questions,
the Tsar lies at the end of his long reign.
(Blue lips almost struggle to explain,
caught in the halfway realm of last expressions.)
The Empress sprawls, hands crossing her stained bodice.
Behind her rest the bayoneted heirs,
blood in pools around their jewelled stares.
Yurovsky stands above the heap of bodies.
A Chekist practiced in the art of killing,
he commends his men as gun smoke settles.
Their trigger-fingers, though, are cocked and curled,
their executioner eyes more than willing—
all of them, like him, poor boys from shtetls,
still eager to help mend the broken world.
* Hebrew for “the mending of the world”
Source: Leo Yankevich, Tikkun Olam and Other Poems (The New Formalist Press, 2008)
5 Comments
Perhaps someone could write a joyous ode on Trotsky’s brain being splattered with an ice pick?
The Jewish expression “tikkun olam” (repair the world) recalls the statement from the Vietnam War: “We had to destroy the village in order to save it.”
The best way to truly repair the world would be to put an end to Jewish trouble-making dressed up, with characteristic chutzpah, as “idealism,” “humanitarianism,” and “philanthropy.”
The Khazars raped his daughters too. Incidentally, I am surprised the author is Polish rather than Jewish.
In this recent footage from the White House, Obama talks @ 3:05 min about being guided by the (kabbalistic) values of Tikkun Olam ”to guide our work this holiday season”.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IDpA7-bFW6s&feature=player_embedded
Have your sick bag ready, you may need it.
Dunderstein
There was a clever picklesnoot
Whose name was Dunderstein.
He specialized in organ sales
Of kidneys and some spleens.
He made the finest transplant deals
That you have ever seen.
And one day he invented
Am organ ice machine.
Oh Dunderstein, Oh Dunderstein
How could you be so mean
To ever have invented
The organ ice machine?
Now all the little boys and girls
They’ll never more be seen.
They’ve all been shipped to Hollywood
With Dunderstein’s machine.
One day David Crosby came walkin’
A walkin’ in the store.
He bought himself a liver
And he laid it on the floor.
The liver began to whistle
And it whistled up a tune.
And soon that little liver
Was dancin’ round the room.
One day the icer busted.
The problem was to know.
So Dunderstein, he climbed inside
To see what made it go.
His wife she had a nightmare
And walkin in her sleep.
She gave the crank one heck of a yank
And Dunderstein was spleen.