A poem for Yom Kippur I wrote in my early 20's, when I was one of those weird chicks who was always writing poetry about anything and everything.

On Yom Kippur - The Day of Atonement
-for all things lost, forgotten and forgiven

This is a time of great sadness, of great sorrow.
When the sins of the fathers are passed on to the children,
and we must atone for the sins of the world which
have been laid upon our shoulders.
We fast so we may purify our bodies, our selves, our souls on
this most holiest day of the year.

When we must remember th days of Moses, the flight from Egypt,
the great holocaust where many of our kindred died, a time
when God had forsaken his chosen people, and let them suffer and die
at the hands of the white barbarian aryans.

The sins of the world have always been upon our people.
From the day a little star rose above Bethlehem, when a man who
walked upon the water was nailed to a cross among thiees.
From that day forwad, the sins of the world were branded upon our minds
and our hearts, on we the forsaken, by those who blamed us.

But on this most holy day, we must remember that
for all things lost and forgotten,
all things are forgiven,
so that we may start anew again in the coming year.
That for another year, our hearts, our souls,
our bodies are cleansed, purified and innocent of the
world from which we came, and from which we will always return.

I stopped writing poetry in my 20's. THe inpsiration to write poetry left me, and then I decided that I wasn't very good at it anyway. But it's interesting once in a while, to look back at my feeble attempts to express my world thru verse.

Another lazy Sunday. I slept through my alarm and woke up too late for church. So I turned the TV on and watched the San Francisco Grand Prix bike race on TV. Supposedly Robin Williams was out there as an announcer. Some very young Canadian guy on the 7-up team won. Lance Armstrong tried to take the lead, but he burnt out at the last minute.

Then I watched 49ers lose. I hate it when they lose. I watched bits of the Giants/Padres and the Oakland/Seattle baseball game. I stepped out out do laundry, and went for a walk. And now I'm watching the Raiders/Steelers game. I think the Raiders will win this game, which is nice. I don't think I can't take two Bay Area football teams both losing on the same day. I think the A's lost to the Mariners, but I'm not sure.

I stayed up too late on Saturday night, and I've been tired all day. At least I finished my filing, a project I've been wanting to work on for a long time. This means my weekend hasn't been a total waste.

I received an email today which said that my sports take on boxing, was selected to be on Random Blog Quotes. I wonder how they find my blog. Actually, I'm curious as to how anyone finds my blog. The web is this gigundous (love this silly word) thing with as many sites I would imagine, as there are people who surf the net. How anybody finds anyone or anything is amazing to me. I think I even received a comment in portuguese, if I'm not mistaken. That's cool, very cool.

I'm rereading The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling. I think I read it as a child, but I don't remember. It seems like one of those books that every child reads. I cried at the end of the first story, when Mowgli gets kicked out the wolf pack. There was something very sad about that, to be kicked out of the only family you have ever known. I mean, Mowgli had some memories of his human family, but they were very vague. The wolves, the panther and the bear were the only family he knew.

I have visions of Mowgli ending up like Christopher Lambert in that movie, Greystoke - The Legend of Tarzan, where he's crazy and missing the jungle. But then again, I can kind of imagine him turning out like George of the Jungle too, or maybe Brendan Frazer in the disney movie. I think I'll just stick to imagining that Mowgli has no future. Rudyard Kipling didn't give him a future outside of The Jungle book, and neither will I. Poor Mr. Kipling is probably rolling over in his grave over what his story has morphed into over the years. I'm not quite sure I blame him either.

Musical Selection: Morcheeba - Big Calm, Tori Amos - Little Earthquakes, Cassandra Wilson - New Moon Daughter.

I'm going through my pile of papers and filing. I hate filing, but those papers have to go somewhere.