Les of me...More of You Spirit
Tired Questions of Paradox
Alone...but Not Lonely Sarcastic Apathetic
Through Me We Believe
path Resurrection
No Time to Analyze Greatness Dies Devoted
His Breath
How Can you Love me Lord? Ask Me How I Feel
World of Watching Thoughts From An Airport
A Mother's Prayer Sand Inside Your Soul
Lion Of Judah Sand Inside Your Soul
Prison Others May, You Cannot
You Can Tell Me Joseph Through a Nativity Window
Double Perfection untitled
Tears United
Chase of a lifetime Submission
Joseph of Arimathea Blocked
Winter models Apology
Psalm 90 From Agony to Triumph
A Eucharist of Humility Rejected, a villanelle




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[top]

Les of me...More of You
LESS OF ME...MORE OF YOU
I am sick of this sickness
Sinfullness sucking and sapping
Sometimes so hard to leave behind the old trapping
But now you're hugging, healing, tugging and tapping

Less of me...more of you
I hadn't had a clue
What you did, what you do
Refresh, Refill, Renew
Less of me...more of you

Less of me more of you
Blinded to self, now a new view of you
Suddenly something seems differently new
Sin's  storms give way to your skies of blue

Less of me...more of you
I hadn't had a clue
What you did, what you do
Refresh, Refill, Renew
Less of me...more of you

Still Amazed, oh the things you did and do
Formerly ignorant, unsaved, unsatisfactory, now I'm new
No male,  no female, colorblind, no Greek, no Jew
Less of me, more of you

Less of me...more of you
I hadn't had a clue
What you did, what you do
Refresh, Refill, Renew
Less of me...more of you
Tim

[top]

Spirit
SPIRIT
The seed's been sown
to the path unknown
to heal, too real, to touch, to feel
don't squander, don't ponder, act, react, face the fact, fact to faith, deeper, downward, depth
Remind us of your kindness
Find us in color-blindness
Remind us
Behind us
Bind us
Tim

[top]

Tired
TIRED
Fit for fighting
Restless and running
Dying in darkness
Removed and  restless

Oh Lord I am Tired
Tired and fired
Hurting and hopeless
Falling and ropeless

I'd hit out if I knew who to hit
I'd spit on someone if knew where to spit
Can't pay the fare
Punching at air
Suffering and sinking
Downward the sickening sucking

Oh Lord I am Tired
Tired and fired
Hurting and hopeless
Falling and ropeless

Help me out by helping me out
Its dark, deep and I'm desperate
I can see no way out
Give me strength, Give me fight
Give me hope, Give me light

Oh Lord I am Tired
Tired and fired
Hurting and hopeless
Falling and ropeless
Tim

[top]

Questions of Paradox
QUESTIONS OF PARADOX
Did you live what you learned?
Did you learn what you lived?
Do you want what you need?
Do you need what you want?
Do you need what you know ?
Do you know what you need ?
Have you lived what you've learned?
Have learned what you've lived?
Do you need what you want?
Do you want what you need?
Tim

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Alone...but Not Lonely
ALONE BUT NOT LONELY
Wherever I go, you are there
Guiding love, tender care
From there to here out on my own
No one near, but not alone

Alone but not lonely
Life is now lively and lovely
Spirit spilled, Spirit filled
Spirit given, Spirit driven
Alone but not lonely

Once there was starkness
Once there was darkness
But now Life and light fill my night
Dark and dirt have returned to bright white

Alone but not lonely
Life is now lively and lovely
Spirit spilled, Spirit filled
Spirit given, Spirit driven
Alone but not lonely

Reborn, renewed never the same
An new end to the shame and blame
A new beginning, an end to sinning
A heart with joy, my spirit singing

Alone but not lonely
Life is now lively and lovely
Spirit spilled, Spirit filled
Spirit given, Spirit driven
Alone but not lonely
Tim

[top]

Sarcastic Apathetic
THE SARCASTIC APPETHETIC
The same old Sterile barrel of slump
The not-so rare again Arrogant funk
Fanning Flaming arrows from a pedantic punk
Petty and paltry the digging up ugly dump

Change my heart O God
Fill me refresh me
Renew me enmesh me
Shalom, my new home

Downward, darkening, digging and dumping
Cancerous cyst, pounding fist
Enough already, class dismissed

Change my heart O God
Fill me refresh me
Renew me enmesh me
Shalom, my new home

In doubt and despair, I dangerously drifted
Empty and sifted, primmed to be uplifted
My ground has shifted, Spirits been lifted,
Centered and sorted, Great gracefully gifted

Change my heart O God
Fill me refresh me
Renew me enmesh me
Shalom, my new home

Tim

[top]

Through Me
(actually a song to the Lord inspired by the idea that we serve and love as a reflection of who He is)

You are a servant
And so I will serve
You are a Lover
And so I want to love
You were willing to pay the price
So I gladly give my life
Through me Lord may You be glorified

Come and shine on me
Let them see that it is only
By your grace that I am free
Come and fil me with your Spirit
Fill this hunger deep inside
And through me Lord may You be glorified
Dan Lamos

[top]

We Believe
(based on 2 Cor 4:7-13.  In verse 13, Paul refers to the spirit of faith.  This song petitions God for that spirit of faith)


What can you do when the pressure's on?
What can you say when the storm rages on?
We believe, We believe
What can you do when you feel confused?
What can you say when your heart is bruised?
We believe, We believe

chorus:
Grant us the spirit of faith
And the grace to rise up and say
We believe, We believe
Open our eyes and our hearts
Raise us up where You are
For we know You are making a way
So we rise up in faith and we say
We believe

There is a hope that will never die
There is One who's gonna split the sky
We believe, We believe
There is treasure in these jars of clay
The Spirit of God gives us strength to say
We believe, We believe

(chorus)

Bridge:
We say yes, Lord as we rise in Your truth
We are not defeated, we will stand in You (repeat)

(chorus)
Dan Lamos

[top]

path

jake smith

[top]

Resurrection
"Of course the tomb
was empty," the angel said.
"What were you expecting?
So was the manger.
After all, the animals had to eat."

(c)2002, Paul W. Sundberg
Paul Sundberg

[top]

No Time to Analyze
Turn on the big picture
Thumb the remote, channel 23
The world is changing
Didja see it?  Didja see it?
Nah, it was MTV

Images fly by speed of light
I catch them with my eyes
Information processed
And stored, record
No time to analyze

Technologically speaking
It's the price of progress, of choice
Selections rapid-fire
Insignificance, and ignorance
Shut up and pay the invoice

I just wish someone had told me
Had made me count the cost
These labor-saving devices
That I crave, and save
What else have I lost?

Abdicate responsibility
But hold onto my rights
Like these machines
Turn me on, I respond
But I'm not sleeping well at nights

I am sick, not sinful
Dysfunctional they call it
The subject of talk-shows
Oprah Winfrey, or Sally
But something doesn't fit

No time to analyze
Change the channel, understand
Because I am just a program
TV clip, computer blip
Who once thought he was a man.
Michael Scott

[top]

Greatness Dies Devoted
Do not seek approval from that crowd
Mass-man he is: obscene, obtuse, and loud
He will not linger but to jeer when you fall

But giants rise above that small mind
For goodness thrives where men are blind
And greatness dies devoted to the small
Michael Scott

[top]

His Breath
I awoke one day in the desert
Having come from afar with a thirst
I arose to the occasion to seek
To seek that which was First
Not only to just drink from this Fountain that I had lost
But to become a dwelling place of the Living Water Himself
If I had not awoke in the desert
My thirst would have been quenched by evil’s wealth

I walked what seemed for days
the mirage of water insight
the brightness shining down from above
I knew that I must press forward into the Light
My feet grew tired and sore my garments fell to the side
I struggled to keep them on my skin
My nakedness to hide

Naked, thirsty, burned and alone
My flesh began to rot
I knew death was upon my body now
No matter what the cost
I knew that where I had ventured
Was going to bring death upon my flesh
But His life could not exist in me
If I didn’t learn to rest

Rest from all the worry
Rest from all the strife
Rest to my aching bones in mourning  
Rest upon my life

As I lay there dying
And thinking of my past
I knew the life left in me
Was the Creator Himself
I could feel a slight wind blowing
The desert sand across my face
New life in me existing
His life took my place

His breath began to blow gently
His breath ever so sweet
His breath I long to taste
His breath so complete

Robin Paisley

[top]


by Paula Peatross

I am aged
My eyes see images not people
My ears hear sounds and confusion
when I speak no one understands
And I wonder how much longer
My soul aches
My body betrays me
My Spirit waits

I am demented
Someone else dresses me
and guides me where I will go
I am incontinent; unable
And I wonder not knowing where to go
My soul is alone
My body is a traitor
My Spirit groans

I am senile
The child in me remembers and I smile
I recognize you
Are you my sister? Mother?
The memories fade away
I love you but can’t remember why
And I wonder in search of home
My soul is destitute
My body lies
My Spirit is calling

I am wounded
This earth is not my home.
Comfort has abandoned me
Eating and drinking are no more
And I wonder about heaven’s feast.
My body fails
My soul is imprisoned
But my Spirit is alive

I am Spirit
This world is but a vapor
The labor of living will soon pass
I am ready
and I wonder about the glory
that awaits me
My family and friends beckon
The light invites me
My Spirit rejoices
I am at peace.

Beyond Life

[top]

How Can you Love me Lord?
One day I was dreaming, or I had a vision, it really doesn’t matter which, for I know it was of the Lord.  And in the dream, I was alone in a dark place, and I was afraid.  Yet I didn’t want to go out into the Light.

So the Light came to me.

I saw Jesus walking through the darkness.  He stood before me, and I turned away.  “How can you love me, Lord?”  I asked.  “Simple.”  He said.  “Watch and learn.”  He reached out His gentle, nail-scarred hand; He reached it out and into my chest.  He pulled out my heart, and showed it to me.  It was black, as black as death, as black as sin.  And sick, cancerous with worms and maggots and words cannot describe the ugliness of my own heart.

Again He said, “Watch.”  He reached; He reached His other hand into His chest, and removed His own heart.  It was perfect, golden, starlight and sunlight, snug there in the palm of His hand.  He took it and placed it into the empty place inside of me, where my heart had been.

Then He did something even more wondrous.  He took my heart, as black as sin and as black as murder, and placed it into His own chest.  I could still see my heart in His chest.  A look of infinite sadness and pain flashed over my Saviors face, and then His face, His body, shown brighter than the sun, the heart He had placed inside of Himself, my heart, started to shine, to glow, it was cleansed, washed clean, whiter than new-born snow.  

“I love you.”  Jesus said, “Because I have felt and lived your pain.  I love you, because when I enter your life, I transform your heart, your very soul, until it is perfect and as pure as mine.  I love you because I made you and I died for you.  I love you, because now that I am in your heart, and you are forever in mine, you will begin to live for me, just as I died for you.”

He took my hand, and together we left the dark place.

Robbie Walters

[top]

Ask Me How I Feel
My hometown is El Cajon, CA. My parent's is Baghdad.

People ask me, "How do you F e e l about the war?"

Ask me how I FELT,
when my Jewish bro's adn sis's, David's stars,
Emaciated, were Emancipated
from the hellhole graveyards of Ausch-vitz.

Ask me how I Felt,
when Martin Luther King came to My Memphis
as a thousand of my black bro's and sis's
PROUDLY marched behind his Dream.

Ask me how I Felt,
when my Scottish bro's and sis's were running down the fields,
Bravely our Hearts crying,
"IT'S ABOUT TIME!!"

Ask me how I Felt, when Goliath
that 9ft OGRE, FEL flaT on his face,
the energy of his F A L L manifesting into my SCREAM
against fear & oppression.

Ask me how I Felt,
when porno makers are charged with obscenity violations, the First Time in
TEN YEARS
when one more woman   decides no to kill the Baby in her Belly,
when one more life    is transformed by the power and love of Jesus Christ.

  Ask me how I Felt,
  Ask me how I Feel, because
               History Repeats itself.
Rafee Jajou

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World of Watching
WORLD OF WATCHING

Hips deep in dark foul rain I stared and stood
Stood still for fear that locals hear and join
Join in this space where I did place myself
I go to show in Judas discontent
Content to make an Annabella hell
A rat a rage a sage of often sins

Sweet cercis Judahs not far off he watched
Also Saul saw said no thing to stop it
I am we, a world of watching, do it now
Speak Judahs, Saul, and all who wait too long

Bernard Bull

[top]

Thoughts From An Airport
Airplanes
A symbol of power blended together with grace
Force with ease
Turbulence with comfort
A mass of contradictions in midair
Arrival:
Coming home. Reunited. Familiar. Safety.
Departure:
Leaving. Separation. Unknown. Fear.
Two worlds of emotions collide from wing to wing
and all that's left is the person...
standing, waiting...
while the world looks for its opposite to contradict itself.
TS2

[top]

A Mother's Prayer
God, help my child to grow up laughing,
seeing the world through smiling eyes,
openly showing and receiving love,
being able to give and take with equal dignity.

Help my child to express as well as attain kindness, showing mercy to the transgressor and patience to the tedious, speaking from sensitivity and intelligence, listening with intensity and understanding.

Teach my child to stretch out his arms to humanity, not being afraid to touch the poor, the angry, or the faithless,
giving companionship to the friendless,
and compassion to those without warmth.

Give my child the strength to achieve integrity, standing up against injustice to become a pillar for righteousness.

Let him be a lantern to those whose eyes have seen only darkness,
and the harmony of music to those whose ears have heard only horror.

With the knowledge of Your Loving Grace, show my child that the greatest of leaders are the greatest of servants.

April Terry

[top]

Sand Inside Your Soul
SAND INSIDE YOUR SOUL

I offer no apologies
I offer no solutions
I offer no excuse for me
Im part of the pollution

That weaves it's way inside your head
And makes you question all I've said.   
But if I can be the sand inside your soul - I must

Crush me in you dialogue                                                                  
Slander all my actions
Question my theology
And ignore my reaction

That weaves its way inside your world
And makes your rage produce that pearl
But if I can be that sand inside your soul - I must

I represent a sinful lot
of weak and broken people
We find ourselves within our homes
beneath the Pubs and steeples

That weave their way inside your brain
To reason with, but not explain...
And if we can be the sand inside your soul - we must....


Beth Wacome Keck

[top]

Lion Of Judah
Lion of Judah - come roar on this earth
And revive the tired spirit if man...
Breathe over us with a passionate breath
That ignites us - again and again....

Seize Us...
Capture Us...
Tear us open with a love for the lost
And consume us - by the power of the cross
That we might live .....

Lion of Judah come down
Lion of Judah - Reign down
Lion of Judah - Come again...

Lion of Judah come down
Lion of Judah - Reign down
Lion of Judah - Come again .....

But until then - let us not be silent
Let your flame be on every breath
And until then ... let us not be silent - Come again

Capture our hearts - Lion of Judah
Capture our hearts - Lion of Judah ..


beth keck

[top]

Sand Inside Your Soul
I offer no apologies
I offer no solutions
I offer no excuse for me
Im part of the pollution

That weaves it's way inside your head
And makes you question all I've said.   
But if I can be the sand inside your soul - I must

Crush me in you dialogue                                                                  
Slander all my actions
Question my theology
And ignore my reaction

That weaves its way inside your world
And makes your rage produce that pearl
But if I can be that sand inside your soul - I must

I represent a sinful lot
of weak and broken people
We find ourselves within our homes
beneath the Pubs and steeples

That weave their way inside your brain
To reason with, but not explain...
And if we can be the sand inside your soul - we must....

beth keck

[top]

Prison
The sunlight trickles in
Through tinted panes of glass,
Fighting hard to shine
Through clouds that slowly pass.

Illumining, at first, the corner
Of this dark and dreary room,
A dusty pile of belongings,
Liked best lit by the moon.

Untied shoes, soles worn
From miles of fruitless journeys;
A picture album contains the smile
Of a flame that stopped burning.

Letters from a friend,
To show me all my failings,
Placed on top of the responses
I never bothered mailing.

Some keepsakes forsaken
And thrown into the heap;
Memoirs of hidden hurts
I no longer wish to keep.

Plaques and awards
That I've never let be seen,
Remind me of my greatest goals,
My unkept, wasted dreams.

The light now moves lightly,
Across the otherwise empty floor;
Its glow exposing, more and more,
The unlocked, unused door.

In the warmth of the sun's presence,
I realize I'm cold;
And turn to set a fire-
Chasing youthful lusts,
While the night unfolds.

And it's nice to sit here,
Alone in this room,
As the fire of distraction
Warms away the cold of gloom.

But the heat it gives,
It will not last forever;
And the cold returns,
And here we sit, together.

Paul Carlson

[top]

Others May, You Cannot
If God has called you to be really like Christ in all your spirit,
He will draw you into a life of crucifixion and humility
and put on you such demands of obedience, that
He will not allow you to follow other Christians,
and in many ways He will seem to let other good people do things
which He will not let you do.

Others can brag on themselves, and their work, on their success, on their writings,
but the Holy Spirit will not allow you to do any such thing,
and if you begin it, He will lead you into some deep mortification that will make you despise yourself
and all you good works.

The Lord will let others be honored and put forward,
and keep you hid away in obscurity because He wants to produce some choice fragrant fruit for His glory, which can be produced only in the shade.

Others will be allowed to succeed in making money,
but it is likely God will keep you poor because he wants you to have something far better than gold
and that is a helpless dependence on Him;
that He may have the privilege of supplying your needs day by day -
out of an unseen treasury.

God will let others be great,
but He will keep you small.
He will let others do a great work for Him and get credit for it,
but He will make you work and toil on without knowing how much you are doing;
and then to make your work still more precious, He will let others get the credit for the work you have done,
and this will make your reward ten times greater when He comes.

The Holy Spirit will put strict watch over you, with a jealous love,
and will rebuke you for little words and feelings,
or for wasting your time, which other Christians never seem distressed over.

So make up your mind that God is an infinite Sovereign,
and has a right to do what He pleases with His own,
and He will not explain to you a thousand things which may puzzle you reason in His dealing with you.
He will wrap you up in a jealous love, and let other people say and do many things that you cannot do or say.

Settle it forever,
that you are to deal directly with the Holy Spirit,
and that He is to have the privilege of tying your tongue, or chaining your hand, or closing your eyes,
in ways that others are not dealt with.

Now, when you are so possessed with the Living God that you are, in your secret heart, pleased and delighted over this particular personal, private, jealous guardianship and management of the Holy Spirit over your life, you will have found the vestibule of heaven.
     -From Faith is the Victory
Submitted by Len Sweet

Buell Kazee

[top]

You Can Tell Me Joseph
You can tell me, Joseph . . did you
    Take your shoes off in the straw?

You can tell me, Mary . . . did you
    Kneel at the manger stall?

You can tell me, Shepherds . . did you
    Lay down your rod and staff?

You can tell me, Magi . . . did the
    Swaddled Savior make you laugh?

You can tell me, Angels . . . did you
   Fold your wings and think of death?

You can tell me, pigeon . . . did you
   Pant or hold your breath?

You can tell me, donkey . . . did you
    Bow and make no sound?

You can tell me, camel . . . did you
    Bend and kiss the ground?

Will you go?
Will you go?
Will you go to the babe of Bethlehem?

Great God in heaven, is this
    The child you call your own?

Can you tell me, Jesus . . . will
    You save the world by love alone?

Can you tell me, Jesus . . . will
    WE save the world by love alone?






Leonard Sweet

[top]

Through a Nativity Window
To the Eye of a Stranger
    lengthening shadows
       on
         dimished horizons;
    clawmarks of striving
       on earth-riven
          air, fire, water;
    murmuring silences
       from candles, doves
         and stars.

To the Eyes of God
    a lovenest of lunatics:
    swathed in peace,
    mangered in mystery,
    cradled in hope.

Leonard Sweet

[top]

Double Perfection
This poem is inspired by the Double Ring Video of Leonard Sweet on www.LeonardSweet.com. Hopefully this poem can restore our imagery of God. This poem reminds me that our natural tendency is to view in ‘black and white’ but God talks to us in ‘living color’.

I see in Double, I dream in two
I live for the old. I yearn for the new
I grow in pain. I live in pleasure
I toil for gain. I rest for treasure

The teacher tells me it must be either or
It can’t be two. It can’t be both
The Spirit shows me the new of a few
The letter confines me to a narrow view

The Spirit opens up and lets me inThe letter shuts me out and says ‘Don’t come in’
The Spirit shows me that its ‘ more than a few’
But that it is still One. The letter says, ‘that can’t be true’

I worship the Savior, both God and Man
I seek His Face and I hold His Hand
I seek His Face and He holds my hand
I see in two the reflection of one

I Love the Children, how they frolic and play
I cherish the old and what they have to say
I love Big and I love Loud
But small and silent keeps me from ‘being proud’

Can we long for justice and still pray for peace?
Can we see the forest and the trees?
God gave us two eyes so we could see twice
Once with our hearts and once with our minds

The two become one and the one become many
Out with the old and on with infinity
I see myself and I see You
I see God and He Sees me Too
We are not just one. We are many
We are not just many. We are one
And we are connected by this single reflection
God in Us and Us in Him is His Election
The Two become One in His Perfection!
The Two become One in His Perfection!


Joe Pitrolo

[top]

untitled
the forest swells
leaf oceans
night sky shrouded
and I walk
hoping for
the arched sanctuary
but wondering
as hunger builds
and callouses form
and the dirt accumulates
settles
if it will focus before me
in a way
recognizable

if not
i walk on
a little pissed
dirtier
hoping for another corner
to round
samson chick

[top]

Tears
The Rain is an expression of God's tears,
Not of pity or shame,
But of joy,
For the more evil that is born in this world,
The stronger we grow.
Allen Wilson

[top]

United
I can make a difference,
But I cannot change the world,
For one stone cannot stop a current,
But many can dam the river,
You can make a difference,
But we can change the world,
United
Allen Wilson

[top]

Chase of a lifetime
Poised for exodus
from a dryness of spirit
I thirst for a wellspring
A challenge, a call
a horizon to fill my gaze
with hope
I thirst for deep waters
A journey, a call
a mission to join
passion and purpose
It is the chase of a lifetime

Jay Cookingham © November 11, 2003

Jay Cookingham

[top]

Submission
O God of Jacob . . .
When will my wrestling end?
The tormented struggle within me.
When will rest come?
When will my spirit prevail?

To submit means more than giving up my wants.
To submit means admitting my need.

This burden is heavy; I am tired of carrying it.

The prison of self-sufficiency binds my soul.  The chains of rugged individualism, against which my soul does strive, shackle me. My solitary confinement - a judgement rendered by one intimately closer than my peers.

O God of Jacob . . .
How my soul desires to stop resisting. Can you hear my desperate cries?

to collapse into your arms and as a helpless infant, depend on the care of my Parent, my Provider.

Catch me, God. . .

I no longer want to bear this weight upon my shoulders. My soul is heavy - saddled with my need to not be -
indebted.
vulnerable.
in need.
imperfect.
exposed.
out of control.

I'm tried and weary of this fight. Why won't my feet leave this shore?  My soul longs to leap from its deceptive safety and be swept up into your breathless wind - to float, to let go, to lose sight of the shore, to be a child.

I need you.  Why are those words so difficult to speak?

Bless me, God.  Consume me.  Let me see Your face.

O God of Liberation . . . rescue me from myself.
Melissa

[top]

Joseph of Arimathea
On that defeated Friday,
when you lifted Jesus
down from the cross,
the weight of his body
against yours not heavier
than the weight tearing
from top to bottom
your own heart, gut, will;
the three black hours not darker
than this one moment
hung
over the face of the deep,
past, present, future, all life, all hope, all dreams
receding at the speed of light
into the event horizon…

I have never heard a sermon
about Joseph of Arimathea --
not one of the Big League Apostles
nor published,
but noticed
as a good and righteous man who
was waiting
for the Kingdom of God.

Blessed Simeon cradled
the infant Promise,
Mary absorbed the cost of both
precious ointment and public humiliation,
Simon of Cyrene shouldered the beam,
but this --
claiming, bearing, serving the dead Body of Christ --
an act of courage in the absence of hope,
a ministry of necessity in an anguished hour.
For a time on the cross, yes, but
the Body was not forsaken in death.

I wonder if Joseph felt betrayed
when, with fine linen and spices,
he and Nicodemus
(who had memorized John 3:16 but
so far still didn’t get it)
offered the Host
to the earth
who opened her mouth to receive
that broken Body
and wrath-trampled-out Vintage.

Again one Sabbath Day God rested,
keeping it holy,
one Saturday in a virgin tomb,
all expecting ended,
creation bears her Creator un-created.
The long-awaited Kingdom
from above
is stillborn.



...still borne...


still born!


Scripture does not record the reunion
between Jesus and this Joseph
during that forty day victory party.
But I bet when Joseph finally met
the resurrected Body
of our Lord Jesus Christ,
Jesus raced to him
and lifted him up
and swung him around
and looked into his eyes
and said,
“You are my best athlete.”


sue

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Blocked
Squeeze tightly your almond shaped peepers, for fancy feathers see grim reepers.

Cover the red splotches with blue, no one will ever see thru the masked spray paint.

White-Z cures the sleeplessness, does it?

Where is my river and why isn't it flowing?


cj

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Winter models
When snow silently
hangs its pompoms
on my friend's fir tree
or covers my balcony
with wooly shoulder traps,
When bared hedges
look like frozen festoons
kindly stitched on the ground -
Itake scissors and speedily
repair torn ideals,
shape enevolent patterns,
or revive some faded hope
of my mental wardrobe.
I wind yarns of essential yearnings
to trim each day's canvas.
Then
When intents are fitly tailored
I release the scissors
finding my life wweaved
in God's warm design,
and my activities hemmed
with His encompassing love.
Beatrice Labarthe

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Apology
I don’t want to complicate you
I don’t want to obligate you
I don’t want to segregate you to this world

You can come and obliterate me
Mold and gently make me
I am just a reprobate, me—that is who I am.

Empty hands
bring you nothing you don’t have
Broken, needy, thirsty,
dying in this land


I don’t want to love and hate you,
I don’t want to give and take you,
I don’t want to segregate you to myself.

You can come and castigate me,
Give life don’t suffocate me
I am still a reprobate, me—that is who I am.





tom cottar

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Psalm 90
Psalm 90:12

Lord, teach me to number my days,
for my days were all numbered by You.
They’re Yours for the giving or taking,
whether many there are or few.
Please give me a heart of wisdom
which to You will be looking each day,
a heart applied to Your purpose
and feet which will walk in Your way.
Lord, help me to know that Your wisdom
is taught by Your Spirit within.
He speaks through the truth of Your Word,
which can free me from self and from sin.
So teach me to look there each morning,
and find Your truth for my day.
And help me to live till the evening,
having walked in Your will all the way.


“So teach us to number our days,
that we may apply our hearts
unto wisdom.”   Psalm 90.12


From Embers II – Poetry That Warms the Heart
By Beryl Clemens Smith


Beryl Clemens Smith

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From Agony to Triumph
From Agony to Triumph

Henry Hart Milman (1791-1868) wrote of our Savior, Jesus Christ:

“Ride on!  Ride on in majesty!
In lowly pomp ride on to die;
Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain,
Then take, O God, Thy power and reign!”

How the Father must have missed His son,
when to His fallen race He sent Him down to die.
How His heart must have ached with infinite sorrow,
when He saw His only sinless Son hanged on a gibbet,
bearing there the guilt of wretched sinners.
And when He heard that mortal cry,
“My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?”
What agony must have torn His great and loving heart,
as from His lips, whispered, the words fell unheard below,
“I have not forsaken You, my Son!”
And, oh, what joy, when at the heavenly altar, the Father said,
“Well done, my good and faithful Son!’
And, oh, what triumph, when at His throne’s right hand
that Son in majesty stepped to take His place,
to sit in splendor, redemption’s work complete.
What anthems must have swelled angelic choirs,
as the risen Son took His place upon the Father’s throne.
And radiant was the Father’s smile, when from His lips
the heaven’s heard, “It’s good to have you home again,
My dear, beloved Son!”

Just think of all the smiles of saints gone on before,
when ’round the heavenly throne,
they looked and saw the dear, beloved Son embrace His Father;
and the warmth of divine love filled their hearts;
as they cried “It’s done!  Redemption’s Calvary work is done!”

And you and I can feel that warmth of love,
since His blessed Spirit quickened us to life;
and joy we now can feel within, and yet, as mortal,
never understand the mystery of His incarnation.
Yet one day we shall know, even as we are known;
and ’round the heavenly throne we’ll sing
the songs of Zion rich and full.
All the universe will echo our hymn of praise,
when agony turns to final triumph;
and all the saints of God will join the heavenly chorus,
praising the Servant-King
who sits in majesty to reign forever and forever.




From:  Embers II – Poetry That Warms the Heart
By Beryl Clemens Smith
www.poetryforliving.com


Beryl Clemens Smith

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A Eucharist of Humility Rejected, a villanelle
A dead cold body hung on a tree.
I came to feast; I will not taste.
This is not what I came to see.

I came to drink high mountain tea,
Rock water, king’s wine, not this waste.
A dead cold body hung on a tree.

Eating, gorging, salvation spree.
Instead blood dries with skin to paste.
This is not what I came to see.

Power outage, bloody love debris,
Broken being, Elysian waste,
A dead cold body hung on a tree.

Silent captive, offers no plea.
Murders, rapes, abuses displaced.
This is not what I came to see.

Combatant prince, O come to me,
No weak, peaceful brother disgraced.
A dead cold body hung on a tree.
This is not what I came to see.

lisa samson

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