Odds and Ends

About a month ago, a close friend of mine asked me about the poems I’ve written. I showed him a few. He said that I should share them on my blog. I wasn’t so sure. Ever since that conversation, I’ve been dragging my feet.

These poems are personal. They bare my soul. That scares me a bit.

I finally gave in today. Read at your own risk. They’re poems of struggle, questions and answers.

All were written around 2007. That year, for several reasons, wasn’t one of my favorites. You’ll probably notice that.

Looking over them recently after letting them sit for years, I learned something. The theme of personal apathy, church disappointment and the struggle for something better was in my heart then just as it is now. I shared some about that in yesterday’s post.

I’m setting them out like a bunch of misfit items at a garage sale.

Ever go to a yard sale and feel a bit weird meeting the people who were putting on the sale? Like by going through their stuff you knew way more about them than you felt comfortable with?

Hopefully, you don’t feel too much like that after reading them. 🙂

Anyway, here they are.

 

Revival!

Revival to the sunken church

That weakly hobbles at this time

Like frail and injured beggar.

Revival!

 

Revival to His children’s knees

That o’er time and hardened clime

Have forgotten how to bend.

Revival!

 

Revival to the children’s eyes

That carelessly betray Him

By what enters through their windows.

Revival!

 

Revival to His children’s lips

That fashion hurtful words

And grieve the heart of Christ.

Revival!

 

Revival to the children’s feet

That no longer enter doors

So that fellowship may thrive.

Revival!

 

Revival to His children’s minds

Where scripture through the floor boards

Of the brain fall through, unheeded.

Revival!

 

Revival to the children’s hands

That often slave, labor, and acquire

With neglect to broken lives.

Revival!

 

Oh, Revival to the children’s hearts

Where Christ’s love does not set afire

Resolve to love both God and man.

Revival!

 

In Jesus’ Name

It grates upon my brain,

The gravel and the rain

Of hoax-filled Sundays

Stained with avarice–

Alternate masked intentions,

In Jesus’ Name, In Jesus’ Name.

 

Imposter

Vile whispers of the better life

By one who knows of no such way.

Shimmering apple, implanted is a knife–

In hidden dungeons vents his dismay.

 

Then climbs from caves of grotesque darkness

You’re glad to be saved from seeing

And rearranges his doomed countenance

Into something thought worth believing

 

Like a tele-preacher rehearses his smile

With the help of a hotel mirror

And checks his hair and keeps in style

And says, Why be when you can appear?”

 

He assures you that despite what your take

The grass is always greener

Then pierces you with hook-laden bait

Revealing his true demeanor

 

But if you’d like to talk for a spell,

He’ll embrace you as a friend.

And if you should take the path to Hell

He’ll be with you to the end!

 

Forgotten Reminder

Inverted stone spoke words to me

Among the solemn autumn breeze

And told a story much the same

As what the leaves did where I stood.

Those silent and yet heavy words

Like burdened gray that wrapped the sky…

 

Busy and harried went the town.

All went but here, the surreal here

Where they and I would soon belong

 

Most had their name and nothing more

And none asked me to stop and talk

Nor chided me because I stared

Or had the breath to hate or love.

Their present, it was now the past

As evening fades into the dark.

 

Please Stay this Storm or Give Me Faith!

Please stay this storm or give me faith!

My countenance is on the floor.

The fruit, it glimmers upon the tree

And softly and convincingly speaks.

It’s words and Yours, they do not match

And my free will, oft-pitied lot

Must choose Who’s good and who is not.

 

Oh Come and Tell Me Why

Oh come and tell me why

The sun, and earth, and sky

Do not shout out Your Name

Nor spread abroad Your fame?

“My son,” You say to me,

“Each second, silently

Without a word they do

To all peoples old and new.”

 

Oh come and tell me why

Men on earth must glorify

Themselves by tongues You made

To be spoken for Your praise?

“My child,” you whisper back,

“Though I know this to be fact,

I have given him the choice

As I’ve given him his voice.”

 

Oh come and tell me why

I’m so prone to gratify

Myself with life you knit

For another’s benefit?

“My friend,” to me You speak,

“I see your flesh is weak.

Cast aside your sin and pray

And in time, you will not stray.”

 

God Save Us from Religion

God save us from religion

That is made by human hands.

Stale crackers in nice wrappers

Are not good messengers of Him.

 

For what is human achievement

Void of Divine enablement?

Like a plank upon the ocean

Without compass to assist!