How’s a stick man to warm his insides?
Tag Archives: Christianity
With a proper hoe / The harrowing
Won’t there be endless
progress into the past
and won’t we find there
everyone no one
ever heard of,
and won’t they stand
and flourish finally,
just as they’d hoped?
I, Barabbas
Christ to death
while the guilty man goes free.
And a white-hot freedom it is –
one better left alone.
Better to putter behind
shades and abstractions,
to sleep the many sleeps
that bring us our own.
Where believers go when God arrives
Your light is flooding this tract.
It has soaked the grass
and risen up through the brush
to fill the trees.
And so we must flee.
We climb the trees to await
boats of darkness
that will take us to caverns
cool and
covered with moss.
Where we’ll wait, to see what You do.
Laetare
I don’t like the stupid part
of being a disciple –
how you have to learn
the same lessons again and again,
fight the same fights,
and offer the same apologies
thirty years in a row.
I’m sick to death
of thinking I get it –
feeling contrite at Mass,
all that wet-eyed resolve
and the light shining on
just the right window
at just the right time –
until you’re again coughing, after,
over your coffee, sputtering
your justifications and wondering
secretly if God Himself is not choking,
ready finally to keep His promise
and spit you from His mouth!
The sower’s illustrious labor
Christ is bold growing
amber corn glowing,
fields of silk, knowing
that crushed sugar sun
will keep us at last
Metanoia
Where are you? Where are you?
Where are you? Where are you?
Wrongly roams the mind
Like Satan in Job in need of a job,
testing the rest (at God’s request?),
every last link to see what gives
Of ugly buildings and despairing souls within
Yes, you
with jelly dried
on your table.
See the jelly.
See the grape
the vine
the shine and the wine
it would’ve become
if not sent to you
to grace your toast
and table.
O Lord, take this wine.
O Lord, am I able?
Ain’t no empty tombs
Just tipped chairs
bottles and brooms.
It’s closing time
in Gnashville.
Utrecht Journal 