Best Mustard Poems
The mustard seed
a wild mustard seed took flight
carried aloft in gathering light
over thistle'd sage and poppies
in countless colorful copies
as brash rain showers subside
the retreat of angry clouds abide
scolded by the Northern wind
in search of infinity's final end
once barren hills, now painted gold
snow geese forage with fledgling fold
amid the flutter of swallowtail's wings
from soil sprouted seedling life brings
'til once more mustard's children are blown
from heaven's heights the earth is sown
~~~Dedicated to my Uncle Joe~~~
Imagine the light
from the stars that we see
were merely a glimpse
of what heaven will be.
The tiniest windows
of light we are shown,
drawing our eyes
to the place we call home.
Picture a vision
of perfect white light,
no sun for the day
or moon of the night.
Just cascades of light
of none you have known,
in heavenly form
only souls can be shown.
The glory of God
so great and immense,
the stars are like pin holes
for light so intense.
They glisten and sparkle,
like beacons we're drawn,
piercing the skies
through the nights darkest dawn.
With only the faith
of a mustard size seed
we’ve claim to His Son's saving grace,
when blackness of night
shrouds the light of the day
and faith's left with fear in its place.
Over glorious triumph
of darkest despair
His mighty hand scattered night skies
with glimpses of heaven
that we call the stars,
our windows of mustard seed size.
When I was a kid, home remedies were the thing!
No trip to the doctor for a cold or bad cough..
Mama had a fix for near every hurt, big or small
or in between. The worst, the most dreadful, the
run and hide treatment..the Mustard Plaster!
Some flannel cut into big, big strips...Cover with
mustard until it drips..into the oven to get
steaming hot..then slap that sucker on the spot.
Around your chest, fastened tight..must keep
it hot..althrough the night...It burned, it itched, and it
smelled to high heaven..Who knows if it helped at all..
but I do know that we learned not to voice
minor discomfort..it had to be a real disaster..
cause if you complained.out came the Mustard Plaster!...
Sure.
Ketchup.
Pickle
Horseradish too.
Mayo
Lettuce?
That’s up to you.
Are your patties thin or thick?
Can I gobble one down right quick?
A touch of butter
A slab of bacon.
Please put them on
If mine you’re making.
Are your patties thin or thick?
Can I gobble one down right quick?
We all came from one black mustard seed.
expanding into billions
blowing into every
concrete crack
jungle leaf
burning cay
mountain top
ocean wave
fjords and caves
expanding stars
speed of light
The great contraction
back to
one black mustard seed from which we came.
Do you ever feel like you can't catch a break.
Misfortunes after the next cause your heart to ache. You beat your self over
the head wondering what you did wrong, deep in your feelings listening to
slow songs.
They say patience is a virtue, well let's test that theory. It's seems hard to
keep faith cause things get so weary. Crying all alone thinking no one can
feel your pain, nobody to talk to feels like your going insane.
The toughest thing to do is to be a tough person, not physically but mentally.
Yet things seem to worsen. Matthew 17:20 says "if you have faith as small as
a mustard seed " you can move mountains. It's from the word of God so I
highly wouldn't doubt it.
Just take heed and don't panic, you give him praise til your enemies can't
stand it. But this was just a little "pick me up" if you were feeling down,
stressed out, worried, upset with a frown. Just have a little faith, the Lord has
your back. Cause one thing he never will do is lack.
I guessed that they called it mustard gas because of it,s yellow hue.
Once you got a mouthfull there was nothing you could do.
Your throat explodes,your lungs implode as your brain screams out for air.
You rip the skin off your windpipe but you don,t even care.
Where it touches your skin, it burns right in leaving blisters in it,s wake.
Your skin looks like it.s boiling, how much more can you take.
You can hear your brothers moaning, they.re in excrutiating pain.
Soon you find yourself praying, please God, make it rain.
The first raindrops do nothing, but as the gray clouds open up.
The water tastes refreshing, and you drink fram a porcelain cup.
By now the rain is pouring,you see yellow river.s in the sand.
The battlefield goes quiet, you look out over no mans land.
You can see your friends are crawlling now,back toward thier trench.
The air smells rank and putrid, truly an ungodly stench.
The battlefield goes silent now,the gas clouds wash away.
we clear the bodies from no mans land, now we,re ready for the day.
Fields paint yellow sea
A flood of mustard flowers
Our chocolate hours
Miles and miles in smile
Of Van Gogh painting freedom
Hours we spent handsome
The sky smiles like you
Blue above and yellow here
Come, let's clink our beer
________________________________
20/12/2016
yellow mustard spills
across the green valley floor
black bird flaunts red wings
you wanna bump and trump the trump philosophy and tweek u.s. bankruptcy. faith as a mustard seed..is that what you're after? if I have faith as a mustard seed ,can I stop bugging God for what I need?. we must recognize the phenomenal, last night I looked in the cupboard for a potatoe to bake and low and behold I find the goldfish I had bought and thought I had lost after leaving the pet shop..when I got home I assumed I had dropped it..very sad and disappointed, this was over a month and a half ago and still alive? what a stunt! I scrambled, um delighted and this beautiful very much alive goldfish I now call angel said to me,unconcious do you have faith as ah mustard seed? I did!..I do!
be delightfully surprised when events of the divine touch your antenna..you asked to be a winner..you tuning in and the win-wind is at your back..they can holler please,please,please, you and me-we have faith, faith as ah mustard.
Faith like a mustard seed,
That’s all You ask
Continual praise,
Even in the midst of a storm
It is all You desire
The courage to say
“Lord I give it all over to you”
is what You are waiting for,
To lift us up,
To take our lives
Into your miracle working hands
To mend us,
To mold us,
Into God fearing,
People serving,
Always caring
Continually praying individuals…
When everything around
Us is in chaos,
All it takes is
a mustard seed of faith,
the willingness to believe
that it is not over till the
battle is won,
until You say it's done…
Grain of mustard seed
Falls into quickening soil
And grows to house birds.
Perhaps, the world would be a better place for you and me
if I helped you, then you helped me, and profit not decreed.
If you were sick I’d care for you the golden rule the creed.
We’d plant gardens, grow our food, all share when there was need.
Mothers, Fathers, daughters, sons, their joys would then exceed
the need for filthy lucre the false fostering of greed.
There was a time when this was so and profit flowed from deed
and kindness was credit given with fulfillment, love freed.
The world has grown too big it seems, now all we do is bleed.
We bleed the goodness from ourselves by actions and misdeed.
Return, I say to times of yore and to your family speed
for there is no value in false abundance….just see the mustard seed.
A boy in a
blue shirt
tucked in partly, partly out of
his Chicago Bulls
basketball shorts,
eyes half open,
snot seeping down to his
agape mouth
wet with drool
slowly flowing
to his chin
drifts over to greet our group.
He one by one
first hugs everyone then
grasps hands of one then
grasps another’s then
begins dazedly
walking trying
pulling them away
to somewhere
unknown and Men and women working
they smile
either blithely or in
embarrassed
discomfort here pass through
unsure
and bemused;
the workers
here must with rags and buckets
guide him with crutches
like this and so is
he parroting
mechanically this routine?
– no.
I do not want this to be true.
–
He is aware
of himself, there is
something there
in his faces wet with sweat
foggy
glass expression
between clumsy affection
a desire to
love us to
pull us along
with him,
and the inability to express it,
to understand it. faces tired
(Who am I to claim that I do?)
I want
to believe
in this,
in his
consciousness,
that
his face
is stuck,
is paralyzed
like one under lethal injection
like one
experiencing pain but
unable to
show it,
I want this to be true,
not for this to
be a routine
patterned task
simply occurring
because
it’s occurred
before.
Potential full,
This tiny seed;
Encapsulated promises
Not fulfilled;
Unseen.
Watered by Love;
It’s hard shell softens;
Love beckons its release;
grace extended;
promises unfold;
new life to behold,
Yet,
but
a
glimpse
of new beginning.