what were you expecting of me?
 a cripple? a devil?
a fat man in a red hat?
don't talk to me like that.

And just what did you want to hear?
and what did you want to see
because whatever you wanted, -
   it obviously wasn't me.

If you had asked for me
I would have given myself
but you asked for a god-shaped box
   to put on your Sunday shelf.

You asked for a good luck charm
you asked for a santa clause
you asked expecting easy
from a God without any claws.

You wanted love but no justice
you wanted only gifts and grace
You forgot that a God of mercy
has a plan for the whole human race.

You completely forgot about glory
You completely forgot about sin
your god - an impotent puppet
why don't you go call upon him.

-jm

Sunny side up

Napkin crumpled clouds
across the sky

cast iron ocean
with an egg yolk sun to fry

sea foam butter
on dawn toasted sand

sunrise for breakfast
out on the strand

haiku

cold morning sun lights
with an arm full of ocean
toss fog at my face

Their Lonely Betters

As I listened from a beach-chair in the shade
To all the noises that my garden made,
It seemed to me only proper that words
Should be withheld from vegetables and birds. A robin with no Christian name ran through
The Robin-Anthem which was all it knew,
And rustling flowers for some third party waited
To say which pairs, if any, should get mated.
Not one of them was capable of lying,
There was not one which knew that it was dying
Or could have with a rhythm or a rhyme
Assumed responsibility for time.
Let them leave language to their lonely betters
Who count some days and long for certain letters;
We, too, make noises when we laugh or weep:
Words are for those with promises to keep.

W. H. Auden
1907-1973

When it's not o.k. to hurt

When it's not o.k. to hurt

When was the last time I cried?
Let's see ... where's my shopping list.
Oh.  Back pocket this time.
   carrots
   milk
   eggs
Did I cry at grandma's funeral?
   bread
   butter
   ground beef
No.  I wasn't thinking about grandma.  The coffin was closed. And anyway she was at home in bed watching Jeopardy.
   bay leaf, thyme
Did I pass the spices?
I think I cried when I found out about the strip club
I know I cried then.
I was angry.
I was so very, very, very hurt
Yes, that really did it.
Oops, spices are in aisle 12. I did pass it then.
It doesn't hurt anymore of course.
No, we've worked our way past it. We've dealt with those issues and we're fine now.    Really fine.  Really.
Bread is on sale.
Bread is always on sale.
I don't like this brand.  I think I have enough bread at home.
The funny thing is, I don't even want to cry anymore.
I'm feeling more myself these days. 
The doctor was right.
I'm feeling more myself now.
I knew I would.
He promised I would.
But every once in a while
I wish I could smile.
 - jm


This may be fiction (Grandma is alive and well) but I've been thinking a lot about how afraid we all are of human pain.  We don't talk about it.  We don't want to hear about it.  Video games, t.v. and even other more harmful heart numbing activities are all keeping us from pain and also from hope.  There is no way to eliminate pain without eliminating the joy as well.

Ode by Horace translated by John Dryden

Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair or foul or rain or shine
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

John Donne

John Donne   HYMN TO GOD, MY GOD, IN MY SICKNESS. SINCE I am coming to that Holy room,     Where, with Thy choir of saints for evermore, I shall be made Thy music ; as I come     I tune the instrument here at the door,     And what I must do then, think here before ; Whilst my physicians by their love are grown     Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed, that by them may be shown     That this is my south-west discovery,     Per fretum febris, by these straits to die ; I joy, that in these straits I see my west ;     For, though those currents yield return to none, What shall my west hurt me ?  As west and east     In all flat maps—and I am one—are one,     So death doth touch the resurrection. Is the Pacific sea my home ?  Or are     The eastern riches ?  Is Jerusalem ? Anyan, and Magellan, and Gibraltar ?     All straits, and none but straits, are ways to them     Whether where Japhet dwelt, or Cham, or Shem. We think that Paradise and Calvary,     Christ's cross and Adam's tree, stood in one place ; Look, Lord, and find both Adams met in me ;     As the first Adam's sweat surrounds my face,     May the last Adam's blood my soul embrace. So, in His purple wrapp'd, receive me, Lord ;     By these His thorns, give me His other crown ; And as to others' souls I preach'd Thy word,     Be this my text, my sermon to mine own,     “Therefore that He may raise, the Lord throws down.”

This is what my dear sweet Isaac is to me

SONNET

TO

MY BELOVED DAUGHTER.

by Mary Darby Robinson

WHEN FATE in ruthless rage assail'd my breast,
  And Heaven relentless seal'd the harsh decree;
HOPE, placid soother of the mind distress'd;
  To calm my rending sorrows–gave me THEE.
In all the charms of innocence array'd,
  'Tis thine to sprinkle patience on my woes;
  As from thy voice celestial comfort flows,
Glancing bright lustre o'er each dreary shade.
Still may thy growing REASON's light divine,
  Illume with joy my melancholy bow'rs;
Still may the beams of sacred VIRTUE shine,
  To deck thy spring of youth with thornless flow'rs;
So shall their splendid attributes combine,
  To shed soft sunshine on MY WINTRY HOURS.

appologies

It was time to put all my poems in one place.  If you read my "life and times" blog most of these are on there and you've read them already.  Sorry for the over posting!

Yesterday's child

Yesterday's Child called you Daddy
   and whispered for you in the dark.
Yesterday's Child looked up and up and up
   and you were so big
   and I was so small.
   and I couldn't reach, or carry or know.
I needed you.  And that was all.

But when I wanted your embrace
   and saw no reassuring face
          I prayed. 
  and your absence led me to God

It was your sin that watered my faith
Your empty chair led me to a throne
   And when growing up, you weren't there
        I was never alone.

Thunderstorm

The heavens are roaring
Tree branches are soaring.
Leaves freed from their mooring
   get soaked by rain pouring
   from sumo clouds warring.

She loves

She loves to see the moon and stars
and hates the clouds that hide them
she loves the smell of dune and sea
and longs to play beside them

she loves the God of earth and sky
she loves the Hand that made them
the treasure of her faith and love -
I pray she'll never trade them.



Eliannah really really loves the moon.  She searches for it at night and tells me how much she hates it when it is too cloudy to see it.  Her simple delight at God's handywork has made me appriciate the things I've taken for granted and see again through her eyes how delightful and vast the dark celing we live under.

The heavens are telling the glory of God ... Psalm 19

pig

It may be warm
it may be big
I may waller down in it
like a grunt happy pig

You might not think
that I would care
but bed is better
when we share.

Origami

oragami happy face folded in a smile
turn two edges
moutain fold
I'm frowning for awhile
smooth the paper
leave it loose
this is the way my face folds, when it's not in use

Spring Break

kleenex choir
sitting on the couch
cough, sniff, wheeze hack
grouch, grouch, grouch

Cough syrup cocktail
Please pass the juice
nose like dam
with an opened sluice

sneezing and itching and fevers too
spring break symphony
What's a mom to do?

T.V., DVD
chicken noodle soup
spring break activity
going down the poop.

Kisses

Kisses from mommy are few and far between
as I watch her at her chores
she brings me right along with her
she carries me to bed
and just before I got to sleep
- a kiss right on my head

But daddy's kisses
come when he comes home
late at night when I should be asleep
I get 5 -or -6 all in a rush
though it's kind of like being kissed by a brush
I think I like best his technique.

Mama rocks the craddle
just like that
mama rocks the craddle
where you lay on your back .
Just like that, just like that
mama rocks that craddle with a smile while you nap.

Mama wears a halo
you wear a hat
she put it on your head
just like that.
Just like that, just like that
with the bow in the middle and the tag in the back.

Mama always loves you
mama always will
mama blows you kisses from the window sill
Just like that, just like that
mama blows you kisses and you always blow them back
to your mama to your mama
who taught you love's soundtrack.

SiCee

Dirt burnished face
tarnished with love
tucked in the palm
of a bachelor glove

unraveled expression
yarn coif in tatters
my baby loves this baby
and that's all that matters.

Daydream

untitled

"dream fiercely", they said
but little did they know
that dreams fall softly
as the winter snow

Atop the highest ladder
- the stars still out of reach
my human limitation
douse all daydreaming with bleach

Those castles in the sky
that coated earth with
soft phantasms
crumbled slowly
and stopped snowing
on realities reaction.

growing up and growing weary
growing tired of dreamless sleep
my crumpled aspirations
hibernating as I weep.

small brown spider
tiptoes through the room
where 4 small noses softly sing
a sleepy little tune

I hush my to do list
of one thousand chores
as I smile and listen -
pianissimo snores.