Category Archives: Poetry

My poetry. Mostly Collects

A Found Poem from Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton

There’s a million things we haven’t done, God,
yet, it’s the one thing that we do do where we wind up dead.
Help us to rise up
and not throw away our shot
to tell a story of today, tonight and tomorrow
to look around
and be reminded of your love.
We bleed and retreat when it gets difficult,
helpless and never satisfied.
If there’s a reason we are still alive
may we wait for it
to continue to stay alive
even when counting one to ten could mean our death.
If only it would be enough
to turn the world upside down
and have history turn its eyes on us.
Dear God, what to say to you?
Do we keep writing day and night
like it’s going out of style?
And missing the moments that become movements?
Winning is easy, figuring life out is harder.
And, oh, to take a break!
Give us the strength to say, No, to this:
We don’t have to be in the room where it happens.
It is enough to have God on our side,
and one last time
to sit under our own vine and fig tree.
One less thing to worry about
can make it all burn
and then to try to do the unimaginable:
to put it all back together again.
With forgiveness. Can you imagine!
When all is said and all is done,
give us the belief that
to put down our gun
and to say
the world is wide enough
for all of us.
For we all live
and we all die
asking,
Who tells our story?

IF, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another. – Galatians 5:15

Creator of all food,
Preparer of all tables,
Head Chef,
Maître d',
Spice of All Life,
who lowers the Tablecloth
of ingredients
and the menu
before our very eyes
and declares, Eat!
Do we taste each other?
Take a nibble?
How does one devour another
and not consume another?
We bite and eat each other
because we are starving
for each other.
Perhaps another
menu is in order?
Amen.

“Moses took the blood of calves and goats, with water and scarlet wool and hyssop, and sprinkled both the scroll itself and all the people, saying, “This is the blood of the covenant that God has ordained for you.” – Hebrews 9:19-20

Holy Vampire,
who dies on a wooden stake
only to come back to life,
is there anything else
needing to be covered in blood?
Forty deaths in Atlanta?
Sixty-three in Chicago?
Imagine:
the blood of
one hundred and three
sprinkling the asphalt
over the weekend.
Do you have any new,
less bloody,
covenants
up Your sleeve?
Amen.

“Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever.” 1 Thessalonians 4:17

God who comes and
Toots His Own Holy Horn,
where angels call
and the faces of earth's multitude turn Heavenward
with the crossed-fingered, hope of rising first,
with those desirous,
and who hold the ticket of their small faith,
of taking a trip on a cloud like a Disney ride,
to the Lord's Forever-Ever-Land,
...Bah! And boo, boo, boo!
You know the Plan.
No one goes until everybody goes.
The notion of The Elect, Your Holy Elect,
kills the least of these
over and over and over
again and again and again.
Speak plainly.
Mean the words of the mountaintop.
Stay with us.
Amen.

“Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.  He said to his people, Look, the Israelite people are more numerous and more powerful than we.” – Exodus 1:8-9

God, clother of Adam & Eve
God, designer of the mark written on Cain
God, gifter of the rainbow
God, appointer of Abraham
God, stayer of the hand of the slayer of son Isaac
God, chooser of Joseph,
God, creator of kings,
how can a newly created king not know of Joseph?
Shouldn't the lack of knowledge
turn people into blathering idiots
who only know how to follow and how to be slaves?
Why do idiocy and stupidity seem to always take
the thrones of condemnation and carelessness?
Do you, God, get some perverse pleasure
out of the rare instances where
powerlessness prevails over power?
Sure, the names of the powerlessness
ring across the history of humanity
but the names of those wiped away
with the wave of a hand by those in power
are more numerous
than grains of sand on Crescent Beach
and more numerous
than the countless stars in the universe
and, horrifically, forgotten.
God of upside down power and God of upended numbers,
the multitudes cry out, Save us!
Amen.

“…you shall count off seven weeks; they shall be complete.” Lev 23:15

God who counts the dust,
grains of sand and hairs on our heads,
the stars and our descendants,
your desire for perfect perfection,
seven times seven,
heartens and emboldens.
If
week after
week after
week after
week after
week after
week after
week
may be made complete in your eyes,
then
as this week moves towards its sabbath
count this week
as one week
complete.
Amen.

“The young men came and wrapped up his body, then carried him out and buried him.” – Acts 5:6

God of all ages, 
God of the child who
Jesus takes into his arms
declaring,
"Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me,"
why, then, do Jesus' followers
watch, teach and ask that child
to become a young human that
wraps up dead bodies,
carries dead bodies,
and buries dead bodies,
bodies created by the church?
I am done watching bodies
wrapped up, carried out and buried in the ground,
out of sight,
out of mind.
Too many young children
have grown up to be dead bodies.
Too many young children
have grown up to kill alive bodies.
God, the Bodies of Christs
need more than just "Enough!"
to be carried into Life!
Amen.

“A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit.  Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” Matthew 7:18-19

Creator of all trees,
who declared after the forest was complete,
"It is good!"
whence bad fruit?
Yes, we will die
from eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge
but we need all the knowledge we can get on this day
and we need to "Get into the forest again" as Lawrence wrote
because we are dropping like gorged flies
from the bad fruit scattered and strewn
wantonly and recklessly upon the ground.
Amen.

Not a needy person among them – Acts 4:34

God who wanted to know God,
crying out into the Void, 
"IAM,"
needing company,
how can you need
and we, your creation, not need?
Our daily bread is just that,
daily bread.
A dollar can only be stretched so far
before being ripped apart.
The need of the brutes
makes so many even more needy.
Dare we ask for more, God?
God, can you give more?
For need, 
our need,
is part of the fabric of
your way.
Amen.