Best Stiff Necked Poems
Behind the parchment screen and eye to eye Punch chided.
Who are you? Who is she? He’d point it out. You’d see.
No marionette with strings was he. Their paths collided;
Judy stands and faces his animosity
The play is writ by man and maid and staged to teach,
the right and wrong of woman’s position, our place.
Standing on two legs, she meets his gaze without speech.
What shenanigan have brought on this crutched lambaste?
Let us ponder Mr. Punchinell’s stance, his missing leg
let his two-eyed profile tease, has Judy been upstaged?
Stumped by the shadow lore, the punch, the audience begs
for the stiff-necked tirade to end her pick engaged.
Speared by humour, we see two realities spar on
with no means to run, the missing third prong’s a pun.
First Published by The Ekphrastic Review
Tongue swells from being biten,
red cheek turns to avoid unnecessary conflict.
When is conflict necessary?
Walk away.
Pray for peace within, or at the least,
a serene place to breathe.
Why is your right, my wrong?
When is my wrong your right to berate?
At this late date
within a collective senior sisterhood,
one hoped smiles would be more forthcoming.
But, its stubborness now.
No bending by the stiff-necked
no slack to cut or joke to reduce
the juice of certitude.
And then, as quickly as it comes,
it goes ... poof ... time too short for grudges.
Grudges held by others for eons
and by some for only as long as it takes
for redness to wane
and sighs to end.
The dark continent; a place of extremes
where the sun rises early and surprises me with its intensity.
In between can be found the stuff of life at every level,
whilst beneath my feet the red soil heaves with life
as the insect microcosm dashes about its business,
before the white heat commands them into the shadows.
All around, the vegetation stands tall and proud,
as if trying to be the first to touch the sun
and birdsong fills the heavy air
perfumed by the breath of exotic spices.
How can this be the dark continent
when every sight that blesses my eyes is brighter,
bolder, painted with brushes not of my earth?
yes, the skins are intensely black, blue-black
But when the smile which adorns every beautiful face
grins – and bursts open to reveal two perfect rows of pearls
the infection is passed to the viewer
who now sees only brilliant light
as the soul is finally revealed.
These people, wearied by poverty and bowed by blind politics
nonetheless walk tall and proud
as if trying to be the first to touch the sun
standing head and shoulders above
our stiff-necked dissatisfactory lives.
If Africa is the dark continent
then I am suddenly in love with blackness
and I fear for the dimming light
which bathes my homeland.
“You stiff-necked people, with uncircumcised hearts and ears! You are just like your fathers: You always resist the Holy Spirit! Was there ever a prophet your fathers did not persecute? They even killed those who predicted the coming of the Righteous One. And now you have betrayed and murdered him— you who have received the law that was put into effect through angels but have not obeyed it.”
Acts 7:51-53
All who were sitting in the Sanhedrin looked intently at Stephen, and they saw that his face was like the face of an angel.
Acts 6:15
THE STONING OF STEPHEN
Before Stephen fell asleep, he gave a sermon.
It culminated into a bold accusation t’wards the leaders.
The Sanhedrin, with the high priest, would determine
The fate of this angel-face. They were breeders
Of contempt, accusing God’s man of blasphemy.
They were teeth-gnashers, stuffing their ears with glue,
indignant, jealous, furious. They would rob Stephen’s vitality.
This follower of Jesus is never alone, heaven’s in view:
“Look,” he said, “I see heaven open
and the Son of Man standing
at the right hand of God.”*
Clasping their ears, they rushed at him,
Yelling in full view of the glory of God, not
Seeing nor hearing, choosing their dim
View of life. It was evil they sought.
They snatched him, dragged him out of the city.
Were those chosen stones unearthed from hell?
Upon a saint of God, they took no pity.
They were underneath Satan’s spell.
This favored of God, they could not ignore.
A Sanhedrin bull in full vent with dust and smoke.
Truth will shake powerful men to the core.
Arms and legs like chariot spokes,
The high-horse pretenders lambast
the great orator with great force.
Stephen would soon meet the holy cast
Of forefathers…most importantly life’s source.
Another man is enthralled, also blind
To the goads he’s kicking at. He’s in his heyday,
a young man giving approval to death, the kind
of man Stephen prayed for in this way:
“Lord, do not hold this sin against them.”*
8/8/2021
*Acts (from the Bible)
**************************************************************************
....“But Solomon built Him a house. However, the Most High does not
Dwell in temples made with hands, as the prophet says: `Heaven Is
My throne, and earth is My footstool. What house will you build for Me?
Says the Lord, or what is the place of My rest? Has My hand not made
All these things?` You stiff necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears!
You always resist the Holy Spirit: as your fathers did, so do you.
Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed
Those who foretold the coming of the Just One, of whom you now have
Become the betrayers and murderers, who have received the law
By the direction of angels and have not kept it.`
When they heard these things they were cut to the heart, and they
Gnashed at him with teeth. But he, being full of the Holy Spirit ~
Gazed into heaven and saw The Glory of God, and Jesus standing....
At the right hand of God, and said, `Look! I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man
Standing at the right hand of God!` Then they cried out with a loud
Voice, stopped their ears, ran at him, with one accord; and they
Cast him out of the city and stoned him. And the witnesses laid down
Their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul. And they stoned
Stephen as he was calling on God and saying
`Lord Jesus, receive my Spirit.` ~
Then he knelt down and cried out with a loud voice, `Lord, do not
Charge them with this sin.` And when he had said this, he fell asleep.”
**************************************************************************
....“The Book of Acts, Chapter 7.” *
Form:
He walks through the deserts of time,
Raising his voice for life's prime,
Sharing and converting,his words do rhyme,
As he selflessly serves without seeking a dime,
He hopes to help pay sin's fine,
Leaving our heart's bell to chime,
He works with an eye single to God's glory,
Travailing and putting to rest life's worry,
For stiff necked persons his heart feels sorry,
As he hopes to share salvation's story,
He returns to his maker bitting death's cherry,
As he rests peacefully in eternity's lorry,
His word still echoes in my mind,
Assuring I'm not left behind,
The feeling of pride I must decline,
For my maker's hand I must find,
My heart and that of my maker he seemed to bind,
Breaking its coldness,atonement's contract was signed,
On my knees he has left me thinking,
Pondering on life as time keeps ticking,
Right from wrong I'm left picking,
As righteousness's light shines,upon decisions flicking,
Resolved I shall stay, as temptations keep pricking,
For I seek to return by my savior's biding,
It’s been broken for so long;
Silently churning.
I forgot I was alive,
swimming through rotten joy.
Fatigued and Complacent.
You found me;
a torrid husk enraptured
by a sinning sun.
I spun under that liar’s star,
wishing on it’s peers for a new world.
A new way to breathe.
Hunting throughout eons
lost in-between the reckoning
of seconds; caught up in a disheveled
theater.
I thought they had forgotten me.
I had nearly lost sight of my favorite
constellations,
Looking up.
Stiff necked.
Hoping to find the light
that could remind me of
the thoughts that used to
come to me when I first
discovered the sky’s
patience for my reach.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.
At first we had traumatic stress
just being born
and later shock of near death,
physical and mental,
natural and spiritual,
lack of health
and unsafe, messy wealth.
Then traumatic cultural stresses
grew up into a global syndrome
of sad neglect
toxic fueling chronic depression,
multicultural repression
caste suppression,
cognitive and affective
double-binding dissonant
multigenerational dissociation.
Then post-traumatic historic stress syndrome
swept up panic attacks,
disabling shell shock,
invasive violent cultural shlock,
long-term victimization locks,
criminalization ad hoc
legislated abominations,
violent domestic and national monoculturing schools
of semi-thought through
flowing pure and healthy imaginations
creeping toward chronic creepy anxiety,
lose/lose de-nihilistic codependency,
mutually assured destruction
in bloodless
micro-annihilating pools.
Now we have pre-traumatic herstoric stress syndrome
for ever more biocultural pathology
in internal
and external climates,
venues,
lyrics and lessons,
narratives of unraveling devolutions
inevitably heavy self-implicating
stiff-necked stubborn scales
In-between disempowering monoculturalism
monopolistic monotheism
ego-privileged anthro-supremacism,
economic ecological lack of co-invested empathy,
And enlightened EarthPatriotic resonance
anxiously anticipating
polycultural revolutions
sustaining robust health care
ecosystemic wealth.
Why does it matter
if we sing or dance or call
"Make American Trauma Again"
pre- and post-suffering
the greatest response of all?
Isn't trauma of unrelenting win/lose competitions,
of StraightWhiteMale aggressive monoculturalism,
mono-egotheism,
monopolistic theology,
a culturally devolving climate trend?
Inside and outside,
before and after traumatic birth
and death of isolated individuals
swimming in a hegemonic
demonizing atmosphere
of win/lose capitalist self-defeating wounds
at risk of overwhelming all empowering lovely acts
and pre-post-enlightened passionate hearts
For resilient
ecotherapeutic stories
of positive
multiculturally cooperative
green peace
health care wealthy resonance.
Why should the sun, like primrose, change its true color?
Why shouldn't each color have its own existence?
Why should the moon shrink holler for seasons smaller?
Why must Bluebells turn white on someone's insistence?
Can cranes compel crows to stand still straight stiff-necked?
Can cobras wish rhinos to crawl and get frogs served?
Can deer desire lions to have their skin soft spot-flecked?
Can creepers caution palm trees to keep their logs curved?
Nature had her reason when she crafted me: ME,
As black-hole or blue-hole has many a meaning;
A hole named ME might be, otherwise, stay empty,
There's none, on earth, like me with the same leaning...
Creepers, climbers, flowers, or flies I cannot be;
What creature on earth could fully resemble ME?
14 September 2021
Why am I me? Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Shreya LN
Standing at the bow of the rugged ship,
Blistering tears cue up in the wrinkles
Of faces worn weary with anguish;
Uncertainty becoming a bleeding wound.
The raging storm swells with tormenting waves
Splashing on the shores of human dignity and honor;
Leaving the despotism of doubt and fettering fear
Frothing in the humidity of the politico-sands of time.
Yet, despite the toil and fatigue of the hour,
Hope remains on the horizon--rising with the sun;
And the searchlight of truth will dissipate the cloud of deceit
With its enlightening rays emancipating lost, stiff-necked souls
Seeking stillness of peace in the coming raging winds of change.
The prophet spoke
until She broke
We are many uniting ecorealities
helping You unbecome
one universal ego-over generalization.
Yet, Universe is ZeroSum LeftBrain total
while united EcoLogians
rebirth Right WinWin
polypathic subclimate healers.
No healthy WinWin Ego
wills to destroy cosmic therapeutic law
of nature/spirit
Left/Right
primal ZeroZone mutual love.
Cosmic re-creative will
feeds on Both/And exercise
enthusiasms of heart yin-wisdom
over mindbody yang
Either me or Loser you dissonating
reflexive opposition,
hardness of mutually despairing hearts,
growing stiff-necked cultures
and subcultures
splinteringly anxious.
chronically stressed,
Win/Lose jaundiced
by bullying
and ego-neglect
thirst and starvation memories
In terminal LoseLose climate peril
Both/And will becomes RightHeart cooperative
with critical moments,
experiences,
events to heal
LoseLose past climate disasters,
When RightBrain GoddessGais restores green cool muse,
WinWin practicing
orthopraxi-sing
Earth's ecotherapeutic
organic nature/spirit rituals
of co-discernment.
Cosmic revolutionary will
is a Yang omnipotent muscle thing
with yin-energy heartflow
toward cooperative Both/And health options
within everyday competing ego-commitments
toward multi-regenerational
ego/eco restorations.
We are Left egoskins
worshiping Father EcoSky
And Right EarthTribe
eco-bilateral core ZeroSums
discerning HereNow together
what healing course to steer
downstream through revolutionary climate crises
confronting our Future regenerating lives
Loving secular patriarchal problems
with sacred matriarchal WinWin
inside implicit muse/spirit resolutions.
Prophets sang
as Climate danced
health/wealth
Both/And
away
and back again...
So, is this personification
of political systems?
asked the organic ecologist.
Or politicization
of intimately
yet transcendently
secular and sacred
personal economic-nutritional analysis
of health-wealth trends?
asked the macrosystemic economist,
in his rather too long projecting way
of exploring means
and medians
and in-betweens.
And both?
asked the theologian
after listening to each as Other,
DefaultNetworkAssociations (DNA)
betwixt enscriptured lines
of historical metaphonics.
Just because we do not reside together,
sharing identical labels,
need not mean we journey apart.
Just because my neighbor,
my enemy,
those I don't know,
those I fear,
former friends and family who have angered me
believe in a personal God
the Supreme Straight White Father theology
does not mean they,
like I,
can not also feel Earth's climate
like an interpersonal Gaian ecology
of healthy sacred regenerative emergence
into a win/win superlative
rapturous future life together
more healthy than residing degeneratively apart.
We all speak the same emotional language.
Humor and health, good and bad,
speaks and sings and dances and enacts
and dirges and reacts
a universal win/win,
win/lose,
lose/lose bilateral climate language;
eco-political heaven
and hell,
and all that lies more mundanely in-between
killing us climate softly.
Just as adolescent loss
of a lover to suicide
steps into an endless shaming/blaming toxic story
of depression,
ego-repression,
ecosystemic suppression
of positive affect,
of hope for healthy relationship,
of faith in wealthy resonant communication,
So too
it is not theologically
or ecologically
or ego-rationally insane
to fear,
and become angered by
genocide of our entire species
shamed by our own stubborn win/lose dissociation,
climate capital-pigheaded
stiff-necked degeneration,
rabid suicide ideation
through lack of Golden Rule Rapture,
win/win integrity,
theo-eco-ego triumphal integration.
The Human Wall
INTRANSIGENCE
the human wall
of the stiff- necked
obdurate, mulish
where want prevails
and choice fails
you can’t pass through it
you can’t move it out the way
it serves no purpose to go around it
you try compromise and reason
to breathlessness
it runs
governments
marriages
companies
relationships
and families
with selfish certainty
the question remains
does intransigence have a
heart
mind
and conscience
or should we say
it is the mother of
narcissism
7/19/19
Intransigence Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
cold and indifferent
relentless autumn rain
garnet ruby topaz
brawny clingy leaves
dangling from lean branches
holding on for dear life
waving so gently one moment
then wild in a raging ballet
stiff-necked and trembling
amidst gale winds
determined to never give up
its feat of beauty over strength
mystifying cycle of nature
AP: 1st place 2020, 2nd place 2020
Submitted on November 9, 2017 for CONTEST NO.360 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND
January 28 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Exodus 31-32
Key Verse – Exodus 31:3 And I have filled him with the spirit of God, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship.
PRAISE BE TO GOD WHO FILLS US WITH HIS SPIRIT
Praise be to God for filling us with His Spirit so we can:
Acknowledge His ways according to His precepts
Abide by His wisdom along His purpose
Accomplish His will by His plan
Assert His Word amidst prayer
Achieve in His work through His power
Apply His winning principles
Appreciate His worth so precious
Exodus 31:13 Praise be to the Lord for sanctifying us
while granting us:
Heavenly wisdom
Holy understanding
Helpful knowledge
Healthy workmanship
Exodus 32:11 Praise be to the Saviour Whom we beseech with:
Humility in confessing our sins
as stiff-necked stubborn children
Honour in exalting His name
of greatness and omnipotence
Honesty in devoting ourselves
for His service. Amen!
January 28, 2024