Posts Tagged: poetry

Sifted Box of Memories

The box of meaning is sifted, your fragrance

lingers

I’ve boiled off the excess and

let these treasures simmer

in my soul

weary

of searching for something missing

That never could

be boxed in.

A Little Closer to Death

Short visit among the gray stones of remembering

Words emptied when you sunk into the earth

Silence

our new conversation.

In the quiet bosom of your death the throbbing heartbeat of creation

draws my attention away from you

and I watch life flit like spirits dancing amongst

gray stones, a little closer to death than they want to be.

Suicide Butterfly

A wisp of beauty landed close to me.
Separate, but the same.
I marveled at its will to live
A vibrant delicate life
Short yet powerful
Because it changed me.

Country Sailor

Pulling up anchor from the crowded

harbor of humanity, I navigate

the steady sea of rolling waves of fertile green;

planting peaceful rhythm within my weary sail.

Opening my lungs to the purer, sweet saltiness

of grass, animal and clay.

Birds sail the seas of heaven, diving in delight of

prey.

Fellow sailors, nod and salute from their faithful rusty ships

as rudders plod consistent course to their harvested catch.

And when I return to shore, the sea is carried within my soul.

Perfect Loves Sweeps Out Fear

Perfectly loved, unafraid because

You make yourself

comfortable in my heart.

Wallpapering my soul

with scripture,

flinging open windows and locked doors

to the sunshine of your joy.

Removing stumbling

blocks

Removing doubt that clutters.

Lifting my face

to gaze into your

unblemished love.

Choosing

me.

Adopting me.

You are my mirror

Reflecting truth

I refused to see,

Showing me my heart

the way you see it, strengthening

my love to laugh again.

Love: The Hand Scarred For Me

You woke me from the terror of my nightmares,

said I was worth your time, your pain, your cross.

You didn’t shy away from my stains

From the sorrow I could not repay.

You awoke my desire

A fire for something

beyond self

beyond limit

beyond fear

you lit

my

path

until I

became You.

Holding out my scarred hands

Lightening another soul’s nightmare.

45 MINUTES OF MISSING YOU

Blue Men and Women

conducted a BOLD LETTER search

for the little sheep hiding amid the pride of lions

while the mother feared she had been devoured

Layers of loss struggled to hope

Squawks of Marco

Polo volleyed

Until the hunters exhausted of the game

Silence

ticked by until the question must be asked

Is it time?

Almost, the faint reply

The vibration of a kindred searcher woke

the mother from her fears

“I have her”

relief rushed to restore order

She was laughing amongst lions

Oblivious of danger

Nor fragile with fear

Tempo is discipline!: Finding our God given beat

Matthew 11:16 “But to what shall I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to their playmates,

17“‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;

we sang a dirge, and you did not mourn.’

18For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ 19The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is justified by her deeds.”

Today I got a lesson on rhythm. I used a metronome to help my son find the beat for his violin lessons. He is learning eighth notes; having to stay in tempo has had him tangled up and frustrated. In an instant he went from haphazard, it sorta sounds like “Can-Can” to it really sounds like “Can-Can”.

Now just to be clear, I love beat when others are creating it, and actually gravitate towards rap music, which emphasizes beat. If you see my minivan windows vibrating, now you know why. You will often see a rapper moving his or her hands in a back and forth motion that are short and long. They are staying within a structured meter.

I struggle with keeping tempo in my writing even though I studied the meter greats for my writing degree. I found trying to squish words into a rhythm annoying! Just let the words have their say was my belief. Unfortunately it wasn’t my teachers belief and this course was my lowest score in English. Beats, whether in writing or music, are discipline and they matter! And I STRUGGLE with disciple! I feel that what I’m trying to say gets lost in the beats, or the beat gets lost in what I’m trying to say.

Obviously it not an impossible task because many talented writers and musicians find the beat. The rapper and beat become partners, singing to and around each other; plotting out poetry that is flexible, alive and active. But can I create a beat myself? Can my writing set a tone in your lives? Absolutely! Jesus’ ministry was Allegro (fast and upbeat), whereas John the Baptist’s preparation was Grave. Why were two God commissioned men preaching so differently? John was the transition from the law of sin (death), to abundant life in Jesus Christ! They both set different tones with the music they played, but both brought repentance, redemption, and restoration to those chosen and willing to follow. It says that there is an order and purpose in each note that we play. It also says to me that each of us will play our own God given tempo. The things that don’t change are Christ provider of our beat, prayer, scripture, fellowship, and witnessing. Every single powerhouse in scripture had these five disciplines as part of their music. Some of us may be playing Ode to Joy and others Visee-Allemande Grave, but both take discipline . . . who knows, with God’s help I may try my hand once more at that iambic pentameter.

I Have Hope

Inspecting the pain blossoming in my soul,  I

Have tenacity that is nonsense in society’s chatter.

After all that I have experienced in my

Very short life, I have developed an

Eternal perspective that refuses to be held down! Jesus,

He was not a victim of sin, so I am not a victim of infliction! Helping others–my balm.

Opening my heart to infinite possibilities keeps me

Pressing through–pain is but a speck on my timeline and I

Expect good things from a God who hears.

Dusty Realities

Dreams–dusty realities

removing time and distance

Like a movement of dissidence, tucked into a symphony of

reason. You are a memory that makes no sense, resurrected by heartache,

sewn together by longing, until the persistent alarm shatters my dreams

to a heavy concrete world without you.

Free Gift

Embrace hope in dark places.

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Suicide Hotline

National Suicide Hotline

If you or a loved one are in immediate danger, call the National Suicide Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or go to the website at  SuicidePreventionLifeline.org.