Walking Yiddish

You might think you walk alone.

Yes, you are exactly right.

you do.

you always have.

You do walk by yourself

as I do.

But, we don’t walk on the same path, only the

same direction; like east, west, north and south.


we two do walk alone

with the many,

with the few

with the loud,

with the silent.

We walk together, alone…

It’s something easy to forget, but don’t.

It is only an illusion we have met;

but, I’m walking alongside anyway with ya’ kiddo.’

you just don’t see me and I don’t see you.

It doesn’t matter and I’ll tell you why.

we are there close by despite the distance between us.

It’s called quantum entanglement.

It works as well on that level as it does on this.

I think I walk about twenty five percent with the Jews.

I mean, I found out a family secret.

It was what I told you about before.

But, I can’t verify it through an ancestry check, for it wouldn’t show up.

It’s word of mouth I think my father told me once.

He didn’t go into it too much detail about being Jewish, though.

I still don’t know exactly what being Jewish really

requires, besides the religion.

You know, is it DNA, and stuff like that.

I have discussed previous I am part Black Foot

Indian, too.

I think that’s another twenty five percent.

That puts it half of what I am

(hum… Jewish and Indian. How’d they ever get together? I didn’t know either one got on a boat.”

That was another family secret.

(I have the strong inclination to think my family members were a bit

promiscuous and really got around town. I guess they were either ahead of their time (progressive?) on their morals or most likely people in general have always gotten around (if you know what I mean) and I think you definitely do because we’re all adults here. Aren’t we? Remember my rule, you agreed you were 18+ if you were going to be on my site!)


It was said I was part Cherokee because my family

thought it more classy?

Who cares what kind of Indian you are?

You are what you are.

to me, Indian is Indian.

I wonder how many kids don’t know

where all their roots lie?

I think, a lot more than you’d think…

Just look at what I’m tellin’  ya’ about me.

(Jim Morrison’s song lyrics of the ‘back door man’ come to my mind about the ‘little girls understand’…)

That, I don’t want to understand.

But, you do.

Even, if you don’t want to.

I always heard America was supposed to be an arms open melting pot.

I think that’s still being worked on here in the land of the free.

It’s not quite there by a football field or so.

(I mean, don’t we have enough laws that inhibit our freedom binding our hands?)

So, I found out I am a little of this and a little of that.

Not a lot of any one thing in particular.

Kind of like a Smorgasbord.

Of which, I always enjoyed dining at.


It doesn’t matter much to me my ethnicity, (at least, not anymore. I’m over it)  but it got me thinking about the

word Putzer, in my last POEM.

(Oh, I almost forgot, throw in a bunch of heaping ladles full of German and Englishmen in my genes. Somehow, they got through (the back door.)

by the way…

Everything flows from intention.

It’s how we get what we want

along with what we don’t want

and what we thought we wanted

and what others bring to our tables

that we want or don’t.

the word Putzer is from the ancient Yiddish language, I think

(this is not a fully researched study, only a poem.)

Anyway, what if being part Jewish was responsible for the brain

I have?

It’s got to be in there somewhere influencing me.

Well, I guess it would be responsible for at least twenty five percent of it?


I know there’s Jewish writers, poets, actors, artists, business men, CEO’S,

and finally, yes, Jesus.

And, now I know a little more about me, too.


walking Yiddish, as we speak

with someone is like taking a sponge bath shower

as compared to jumping in a lake

and coming up to the surface with a big fat croaking frog in your mouth.

So, whatever you are, you must find out what that is,

for your own good.

Then, you have to figure out what to do about it.

You might decide simply to live it out or think about it for

the next one, two, three, four decades…

maybe, longer.

But, unfortunately, I’m still a dyed in the wool putzer

likely doing my usual…

nothing, until I absolutely have to do





I’d rather just take my own sweet time doing.


not always tomorrow.

sometimes, today I get things done

that I really don’t want to do

(usually because my wife has been nagging me. Women seem to know how to get men to do things they don’t want to do. They have their ways…)


that’s what all those tomorrows are made for.

Let your fate blow in the wind

when you’ve given up control.

And, if it works, don’t fix it

(Have you ever tried to fix something, and that made it even worse?)

I will definitely have to try Matzo Ball Soup, someday.

Well, maybe on Passover.

We’ll see how it goes around Christmas.

or, Easter.

I have to figure all this out.

I got some time.

It’s only October.

My birthday’s coming up at the end of this month.

I’ll be walking Yiddish

with my

blackfoot indian

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