The Bureaucrat

Her office is tiny, just as her heart
This location of her seat of power
The decor is cold, not tidy, not smart
Where supplicants endure for the hour
Pompous assistants at work in their tasks
Angry at anyone stuck in the way
Lacking desire to show grace when asked
This pretension is nothing new today
Yet beneath this facade lies one unloved
Incompetence craves fearful devotion
Insecure in a job never dreamed of
Bitterness builds like waves in the ocean

So behind this fearful mask of the queen
Is a lonely heart longing to be seen

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Filed under Despair, Melancholoy Sonnets

UBL

Symbol of Evil
Struck down sparks celebration
The shared fate of all

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Filed under Judgment, Politics, War

Myself, My Own Congregation

Faith’s quiet sermon
Softly speaking profound words
Remind me of truth

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Filed under Faith

The Bee

Alas has no space
Though a lot does
But no space for great-grandfather
Or the boy who thought there was

Which witch just said
It is bear and not bare
And with that
Their kid is crying over there

Remember pour, not poor
And flour, not flower
No flower for the poor girl
Who poured out the flour

Who’s minding whose business
It’s different than its
That apostrophe catastrophe
Took out little miss

There’s no saint like Saint John
Though there may be in May
But that capital notion
Just ruined his day

Now thinking about
Round pants for a clown
And ouch, now another one
Has fallen down

Ah but in victory
There’s a sweetness it seems
But oh, kid, be careful
That bee surely stings

To Caleb, who endured twenty six rounds and brought home fourth place!  I’m very proud of you!

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Filed under Childhood, Parenting

The Shepherd

He’s frustrated, this man in his office
Yet still hopeful or he’d best move on out
This depression: something the flock has missed
Will never give them a hint of his doubt
Those years he spent to be educated
Lend almost nothing to the task he now works
Discourse has always been underrated
Trod upon mostly by people who lurk
In committees keeping humble and poor
He struggles to see some good in his life
Always waiting, waiting, waiting some more
He prays to the One whose burden is light

For listening to the one he calls LORD
Means serving this One and never the hoard

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Filed under Despair, Melancholoy Sonnets, Ministry

Quieting Rage

When children bear pain
Absent defenders sought
But wanting births monstrous rage

No!
Haiku will not do
Will not lend voice to such rage
Will not give life to such creatures
As needed to right the wrongs
And heal the deep burning wounds

Yet sonnets are lovely, perhaps it seems
Melancholy songs of burdening woe
But inky scratch on torn paper is mean
Befit the crime but a sonnet? oh no

There are but words
Of hate and violence
Of revenge and justice

Vengeance is mine

There are cries for grace
Pleas for peace

It is finished

Does this child bear pain
Does this victim seek advocates

My burden is light

I cannot carry, my back has grown weak
I struggle to lift leg after leg

Decrease, I’ll increase

What victim remains
When all justice is poured
And all mercy portioned out
And all that’s left is my own pride

Pride goes before a fall

And thus the greatest adversary of all

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Filed under Abuse, Hope

Credibility

Can a poet live here
Can an artist be found
When not even a latte
Can be bought in this town

Of course no one suffers
In the chapel on the hill
It’s as quaint as the postcard
With the old worn red mill

But there is desperation
crying out from the trees
The pain is quite real
In the hungry child’s pleas

If I give it a voice
Set to meter and rhyme
What will you call it
Will you give it due time

I’m doubtful your cred
even comes from the street
But rather it comes
From the club where you meet

So pardon me please
Great guardian of art
But I still have a mind
And a voice for my heart

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Filed under Art, Criticism, Tradition

Flood

The rains came
Not cleansing but destroying
Not washing but sloshing
Mud and grime into
The dwelling
Gravel roads melted
Away as forgotten pavement sank to the caves
The rains came
Not cleansing but destroying

The sun rose
Shining and lighting
Casting its rays
Across forsaken villages
Grass seemed greener
Flowers more abundant
Life continued its ecological cycle
The sun rose
Shining and lighting

The surgeon came
Cutting to heal
Wounding to correct
Breaking misshapen bone
Wedging rods of steel
Amidst suffering flesh
The patient sleeps to groan
Hobbles to walk
The surgeon came
Cutting to heal

The promise came
To be stricken to crush
Kurios Kristos
Forsaken accursed
Dying for crimes to atone
Suffering to reconcile
Cast down to lift up
The promise came
To be stricken to crush

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Filed under Christ, Despair, Hope, Salvation

The Bride

Bridal dreams from lingering sunset youth
Die with hopes of love songs by candlelight
Lay waste in storms of traditions uncouth
No weeping mother or brave shining knight
Tall and handsome replaced by nothing much
Brilliant gowns turn to faded torn jeans
The ceremony is reduced as such
At least there is a paper to be seen
Fairy tale wishes unfit for the poor
As are the plans of a hopeful young maid
Rather life becomes but a wretched chore
Long after the day a judgment is made

But hopes and dreams, they are absurd
Joy and happiness are just foolish words

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Filed under Despair, Hope, Marriage, Melancholoy Sonnets