I admit I’m not sure when this will be read
Before Purim, or during, or after instead
But in honor of Purim I had this weird urge
To speak only in rhyme and let my prose be purged
My poems are quite simple, not high-falootin’
But I think they’re great, and for them I’ll be rootin’
I don’t really dislike poetry of our time
I just don’t get it, ’cause it don’t even rhyme!
I guess it’s an influence from when I was a child
(let’s not dwell on that tekufah, was I good or too wild)
But the idea of some rhyming though it sounds like a ruse
Is really quite innocent–just think Dr Seuss
Purim means something else to various folks
Some eating, some drinking, some making bad jokes
Bringing shalach monos, giving to the poor
or give me some tzedakah and show me the door
But amongst all the tumult and hulllabaloo
It surely must mean something –I think so, don’t you?
I admit it gets lost in the tumult and fressing
Is that the main point, will that bring us blessing?
But before telling the secret, exposing the sohd
Before starting to think, getting into that mode
We must all do something, which I think is quite fine
Bottoms up, everyone, let’s all have some wine
Vashti she had some, Achashveirosh too
And Haman and Esther so what about you?
This is the mitzvah so don’t look askance
In fact let us pause, and stand up and dance
(STOP READING AND GET UP AND DANCE)
Chazal say that wine surrounded the ness
the beginning, the middle, and the ending no less
so we emulate them and imbibe all that liquor
and some even say that we should try to get shikker
Now my head it is spinning and my eyelids are dropping
Is it Haman or Mordechai whom we are klopping
I think I heard the Megillah, every word every ohs
But now I’m not sure as I drink my sixth kohs
Why do we drink does it really make sense
(the men have a good time, but the women are tense)
What is the point, will it get me to heaven?
Excuse me one moment as I drink number seven
Eyebrows are raised, can this be a mitzvah?
THERE ARE PEOPLE NOW SLEEPING ALL OVER MY RITZPAH!
How long will this last, when will this be over?
When will these people dry up and get sober?
Will you stop delaying, beating ’round the bush
Let’s hear some straight talk, I won’t accept mush
I accept that on Purim we must thank and give todah
But what’s that got to do with ahd d’lo yodah?
I’ll answer, relax, just don’t get so nervous
I’ll answer, relax, it’s a real public service
But just have some patience, you might have to wait
‘Cause now it’s time for me to drink kohs number eight
WAIT! Let me ask you ’bout some of YOUR views
Should a newspaper have Torah instead of just news?
And is CHADASH a newspaper in any sense of the word?
Or is calling it that simply absurd?
And I say that adaraba it mamesh is
At writing the news, they’re simply a whiz
To write things that happened, now that’s easy to do
To make up what happened, now THAT’s really NEWs!
I just has an idea for their Purim Edition
(will I get fired, oh I hope so, for spouting sedition?)
They’ll bring out their writers, their very best
BARUCH HAMAN -they’ll write, but no one will know it’s jest
Uh oh, my Editor’s nervous and fretting
(but she’ll let anything through, ’cause she’s making a wedding)
Don’t worry, be happy, go drink some wine
And excuse me while I imbibe kohs number nine
yhw era sgniht sdrawkcab, lla yespot yevrut
Now it’s allright, boy was that nervy
gnivah eht sredaer kniht that YEHT era hgih
Why do we act this way, please please tell me why!
The Jews they were saved, from Haman’s evil scheming
Esther’s shepping nachass, Mordechai’s beaming
To give an explaining, I still have a yen
Just not as strong as drinking kohs number ten
The room it is turning around and around
Will I give the solution, O so profound?
Shall I stop drinking wine, and start drinking soda
I must stay awake till I reach my word quota!
I’d better start talking before I start sinking
I’ll just finish up, let me break from my drinking
What makes a person so smug and so vain?
The seichel, the binah, the da’as and brain !
We think we control, we think we’re in charge
We think WE accomplish all things, small and large
But that’s far from reality, hardly the case
‘It all is HaShem’ is the truth we embrace
But how do we show that that’s how we feel
That our Tefillos and pieties are not just one big shpiel
That we really believe that we exist for His sake
That ayn ohd milvado, and all else is a fake
Wow!This is heavy, I say as I’m drinking
No one will believe I wrote this without thinking
But I have this machshavah that you’ll have to be mayvin
Oh thank you, kind sir, for kohs number eleven
What do we do to say we are nutthin’
I’ll say it straight out, please don’t think I’m bluffin’
On Purim walk into my house and you’ll find
Grown men laughing, crying, stoned out of their minds
We’re mevatel our seichel, that we think is ours
That aspect of life where we think we have power
It was all derech hateva but improbably so
Venahapach hu says :Hey, what do you know?”
“Twas the night after Purim, and all through my house
Nothing was stirring, except maybe my spouse
Walk away smiling, but walk away with this gem
Don’t think it’s you–it’s only HaShem!
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