Home » Poetry (Page 9)
I could lie
and tell you
an amazing story
about these beads,
the far reaches of the world
I travel to get them,
the famous people
who previously owned them,
the magical powers
they have.
Instead,
I’d rather spend
my energy
making the necklaces
than making up
stories
about them.
If you want stories,
read my books.
If you want beauty,
buy my jewelry.
I won’t lie to you
ever
but especially
to sell you something.
Beware of people who do.
Why don’t we give it all away?
Let’s give everybody a gold star,
an A for effort,
a big party just for showing up,
for being there,
for being born.
Let’s give everybody $50 an hour
for doing everything and anything
regardless of skill or training.
Let’s never say anything other than
you’re awesome
you’re amazing
you’re perfect like you are
even though they are falling
and failing
and flaccid.
Let’s make sure that nobody
has their feelings hurt
but more importantly
that they never try
to do better,
that they continue to stay
exactly where they are –
less than mediocre
lower than average,
because we are afraid
of bullying them
by wanting them to not settle for
next to last place.
We are creating a generation
(a country)
of people who don’t try
won’t try
to get stronger
in mind or body.
They don’t need to.
They are told they are perfect
just like they are.
There is no incentive to try
at all.
While being kind is good,
while being a bully is bad,
there is danger
in complacency.
How many people are not allowed to vote
Her husband and I don’t think they can be
Here we go back to class and it is important
After all the time of relearning the time of this is not
Another child has been taught this way
As for me the danger is that you have been there
Scary and the world better than nothing to do
Sent as well as possible for the ability to heal
Sometimes I think that you can see what I want
This may be black
There is nothing more I have to do
These things aren’t really there
Everything we are going through my head
Everyone needs and feelings do not
Enjoy your child to be a good idea to be
Either you are going through my head of this line between
(Constructed using the Kindle’s predictive text feature. A coworker and I took turns creating the stanzas. There are no additional words or editing from us here.)
I asked Jesus to come soon,
to fill the hearts of everyone
with unity and love,
so we would work together.
And he said
that “Just like water
cannot easily
get to the top of a mountain
because it is so high,
people must
lower themselves
so they can receive
the gift of the Holy Spirit.”
And then I said
“But there is rain
which covers
all things
equally.
Can’t you fill them
with yourself
that way?”
And he said
“Yes, but it won’t last.
Rain is there and gone.
People have to have a way
of holding it,
of keeping it.
They have to make
cisterns in themselves,
to be vessels of love.”
In dry lands,
in areas without worship or observance
people must dig deep,
make wells of themselves.
They must be like
carrots among the vegetables,
deep-rooted.
Not like the oak, which falls over,
exposing all its roots
in a messy storm.
With deep roots
you can withstand
any storm.
We must grow our own roots.
We must dig our own wells.
We must lower ourselves
to be able to let God in
and not just in for a moment
but to stay.
Why is it that
a woman who shaves her head is a feminist,
but a woman who covers her head is oppressed?
Why is it that
a woman who wears pants modern and hip
but if she wears a skirt she’s old-fashioned and uncool?
Why is it that
if she starts her own business she’s a trendsetter
but if she’s a stay-at-home Mom she’s a fuddy-duddy?
It goes on.
She’s too fat, too skinny
has too many clothes on, or not enough…
Women are seen as
things
to be looked at
to be judged, classified, compared
instead of as
people
to be allowed to live and grow and feel
as we are called.
It is done to us
and then we do it
to ourselves,
like adult children
of abusers.
It is about freedom of choice.
It isn’t a choice
if there’s only one option.
Look at all the people in the Bible who say
they can’t look at God
– to look at God,
they will surely die.
An angel appears and they
throw themselves
down to the ground,
protesting.
Where did they learn this behavior?
The angel never says
“Grovel, because God’s messenger is present”,
in fact,
the angel says the opposite.
The angel says “Stand up.”
Gideon, Joshua, Jacob,
to name a few.
Moses protested a lot.
They all said that they felt
unworthy
to look at the angel,
to be that close to God.
But consider this:
– the mere fact that God
chose to appear to you
is proof
that you
are good enough.
And consider this:
Mary
didn’t throw herself down.
Mary
didn’t grovel or whimper.
And perhaps
that is the difference.
Perhaps the Messiah
will come to all of us
when we realize
that we are worthy,
as we are.
Odd how
on my lunch break,
my own time,
I always worry about
what I’m going to do next
always
check my schedule
always
think I’m missing something
meaning that
I’m missing
the most important thing
which is
my time
right then.
Trying to multitask
means I’m not doing
the task
at hand.
While worrying about
saving time
I end up
losing it.
hallowed and haunted
this ground
covered with ghosts
of saints and other,
past deeds
praised and profane
we walk barefoot
holding our breath
silent
lest we wake
lest we disturb.
unsettled, unwary
we wander
good that the land is marked
good that the boundaries are set
good that we know
when it is safe
to put our old shoes on
and take our hats off.
Odd how it is
that we are expected
to uncover our feet
yet cover our heads
in the presence of the divine.
Palms waving,
we welcome Jesus.
We are the crowd,
it is a huge celebration.
The town is abuzz with the news.
We are chanting, all of us
“Blessed is he
who comes
in the name of the Lord!”
This man, this Jesus,
is the prophet
who was foretold,
the one who saves us
from ourselves.
“Hosanna” we shout,
clearing the path,
removing rocks.
Some are cutting down branches
from the roadside,
laying them on the path,
to make the way smooth.
Some are even
putting down their cloaks,
their only cloaks,
getting them dusty.
That dust will stay for days.
Days later, those shouts
turn to jeers.
Days later,
this same crowd
no longer wants to celebrate
but crucify.
Days later,
the tide has turned,
our Messiah
now the one
we mock.
Days later,
the one who grants us
eternal life
is himself
dying
because of us.
We called for his death,
and he died for us.
He died in our place,
paid our bill.
He died to let us
get off the hook,
get out of jail free,
get free,
get going,
get on with the business of life.
He died because of us.
Because of our condemnation,
and because of his love.
The first wildflowers
of the year
are timid
and hesitant,
like violets.
Violets are known
as shrinking violets,
remember?
They are unsure
if it is safe
to come out
yet.
They are the first to show up
at the party
but the party
hasn’t quite started
yet.
It is dangerous to come out
so soon.
The freeze might happen.
But in many ways
they are safer
because
the lawnmowers
haven’t come out yet
either.
After they
pave the way
then the other flowers
can come.
betsybeadhead 
You must be logged in to post a comment.