six boys guarding
sacred stones
(only the good die young)
Rav Meir Poruh
offers a jubilee prayer
(only the holy don't serve)
"One bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch, girl.."
-Donny Osmond
It was just one coincidental, exceptional incident.
not a nazi! ...Only a nazi would
suggest such a comparison!
"One does not shoot a blindfolded and handcuffed person,"
even Rabin said it!
Yoram Shkolnik
And it was just a secret folded prayer
folded in a tetragamation, the result of multiplying,
subtracting, and dividing formulaically generations
between prophets, prohibitive commandments, and
ashes which rose above europe for a brief period near
the middle point of this century.
It was just one man. A saint.
Pushed too far by all that he had seen.
yes, a sad, sad case. A tragedy!
But not a conspiracy!
Just one heavily armed lover of humanity
Baruch Goldstein
It was just one insane person.
And who could blame him?!?
All the stress. What with the availability
of our superiour weapons
technology and the U.S. surplus
David Ben-Shimol
And it was just a secret folded prayer
written in well thought-out haste, imploring the creator
of all things, his name is holy, to not let us walk into
the ovens of peace; not to die in the hands of cyborg-
terrorists made of flesh and C4
It was just one, lone gunman
A holy man! A rabbi!
Respected by flocks of the faithful. Silver
bullit driven to shoot-up the Casbah
Rav Moshe Levinger
It was just a cup of tea!
How dare freedom of speech
be compromised! And, in accordance with
biblical justice it was merely revenge in '78
Israel Lederman
And it was just a secret, folded prayer
it seemed prophesy rent: do not let us have a war
of peace. Blot out the name of he who would assist
our destruction. and adoquim sent him, the messenger,
kipa sruga and angel eyes
*sraq*
*sraq*
*sraq*
So not we can return to wars we better understand.
It was just a conspiracy of one!
Not a government of bad agendas. Nor bad men.
All very religious. very religious!
Like all the very religious they sang the psalms,
"bedam va'esh et rabin negaresh" A chorus of poets
But a conspiracy of only one!
Ari Deri
"Give it one more chance,
before you give up . . ."
At that point at which
the living cannot be
separated from the dead
Nor one death from all the others
a row of anyone's
looking into your eyes for the reason
you won't join them
Until guilt spirals endlessly
into a survival instinct
that takes your hand
and closes the door;
Places a stone on the stone . . .
It is this choice, so dear
that will cheapen the rest of life,
walking amongst the don't-even-know-it dead
and remembering how very lovely it all was
when ghosts were your only friends.
I miss rolling with
you across rocks that
grow like grass
on your hills,
which grow like houses
-and sometimes homes, overlooking
kadosh, kadosh, kadosh
Since we last kissed
do the poets come to serenade you?
How many camels have passed
like ancient automobiles
bearing memories and
trinkets to adorn the ear?
My left earring forsakes
my right ear.
I have lost enough earrings
to never outshine you, baby.
Hold on, i'm coming home. . .
Joja is the imaginary friend of Unlikely 2.0 editor Jonathan Penton. She shows up when he's feeling particularly obsessive about his "feminine side."