Written by
Emanuel Xavier |
“Ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars;
see that ye not be troubles;
all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet”
-Matthew 24:6
1.
I escape the horrors of war
with a towel and a room
Offering myself
to Palestinian and Jewish boys
as a ‘piece’ to the Middle East
when I should be concerned with the untimely deaths
of dark-skinned babies
and the brutal murders
of light-skinned fathers
2.
I’ve been more consumed with how to make
the cover of local *** rags
than how to open the minds
of angry little boys
trotting loaded guns
Helpless in finding words
that will stop the blood
from spilling like secrets into soil
where great prophets are buried
3.
I return to the same spaces
where I once dealt drugs
a celebrated author gliding past velvet ropes
while my club kid friends are mostly dead
from an overdose or HIV-related symptoms
Marilyn wears the crown of thorns
while 4 out of the 5 weapons used to kill Columbine students
had been sold by the same police force
that came to their rescue
Not all terrorists have features too foreign
to be recognized in the mirror
Our mistakes are our responsibility
4.
The skyline outside my window
is the only thing that has changed
Men still rape women
and blame them for their weaknesses
Children are still molested
by the perversion of Catholic guilt
My ex-boyfriend still takes comfort
in the other white powder-
the one used solely to destroy himself
and those around him
Not the one used to ignite and create carnage
or mailbox fear
5.
It is said when skin is cut,
and then pressed together, it seals
but what about acid-burned skulls
engraved with the word ‘******’,
a foot bone with flesh
and other crushed body parts
6.
It was a gay priest that read last rites
to firefighters as towers collapsed
It was a gay pilot that crashed a plane
into Pennsylvania fields
It was a gay couple that was responsible
for the tribute of light
in memory of the fallen
Taliban leaders would bury them
to their necks
and tumble walls to crush their heads
Catholic leaders simply condemn them
as perverts
having offered nothing but sin
***** blood is just rosaries scattered on tile
7.
Heroes do not always get heaven
8.
We all have wings …
some of us just don’t know why
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Written by
Richard Wilbur |
Obscurely yet most surely called to praise,
As sometimes summer calls us all, I said
The hills are heavens full of branching ways
Where star-nosed moles fly overhead the dead;
I said the trees are mines in air, I said
See how the sparrow burrows in the sky!
And then I wondered why this mad instead
Perverts our praise to uncreation, why
Such savour's in this wrenching things awry.
Does sense so stale that it must needs derange
The world to know it? To a praiseful eye
Should it not be enough of fresh and strange
That trees grow green, and moles can course
in clay,
And sparrows sweep the ceiling of our day?
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Written by
Ella Wheeler Wilcox |
We will be what we could be. Do not say,
"It might have been, had not this, or that, or this."
No fate can keep us from the chosen way;
He only might who is.
We will do what we could do. Do not dream
Chance leaves a hero, all uncrowned to grieve.
I hold, all men are greatly what they seem;
He does, who could achieve.
We will climb where we could climb. Tell me not
Of adverse storms that kept thee from the height.
What eagle ever missed the peak he sought?
He always climbs who might.
I do not like the phrase "It might have been!"
It lacks force, and life's best truths perverts:
For I believe we have, and reach, and win,
Whatever our deserts.
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Written by
Ben Jonson |
XXXVIII. ? TO PERSON GUILTY. (II) GUILTY, because I bade you late be wise ; And to conceal your ulcers, did advise, You laugh when you are touch'd, and long before Any man else, you clap your hands and roar, And cry, good ! good ! This quite perverts my sense, And lies so far from wit, 'tis impudence. Believe it, GUILTY, if you lose your shame, I'll lose my modesty, and tell your name.
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
The different success of the gospel.
1 Cor. 1:23,24; 3:6,7; 2 Cor. 2:16.
Christ and his cross is all our theme;
The myst'ries that we speak
Are scandal in the Jew's esteem,
And folly to the Greek.
But souls enlightened from above
With joy receive the word;
They see what wisdom, power, and love
Shine in their dying Lord.
The vital savor of his name
Restores their fainting breath;
But unbelief perverts the same
To guilt, despair, and death.
Till God diffuse his graces down,
Like showers of heav'nly rain,
In vain Apollos sows the ground,
And Paul may plant in vain.
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