A Directional Curse
The first time I heard
“Go to hell.”
where it seemed
not just an aimless curse
but a direction.
The empty soul
in bright orange;
couldn’t miss him,
but they aim to.
No emotions,
just a fly on the wall
on sticky tape.
He can’t escape
the familys’ words -
they will be heard.
One father moved
the lectern
to face the beast,
to chastise him
to his face.
One mother preached
with scripture keepsakes
leaving his fate to God.
One day can shatter
so many lives;
temporal tears
will be wiped away
by God.
We don’t teach
our kids to say,
“Go to hell,”
except to send the devil
back where it belongs.
Categories:
lectern, death, fate,
Form: Free verse
She stood at the lectern
Teaching from restoration
Yet, not one audience member
Could deny her infection
...damaged
Tattooed from face to feet
Living, sobriety from drugs
No matter his freedom
He's always just a thug
...recovering
Pockmarked as a teen
She can still hear their jokes
Yelling across campus
Forever binding her with yokes
...weighing
They gather in the courtyard
Demanding for relief
Clothes clinging to frail bodies
Walking with the constant grief
...marked
Oh wholey soul
How far you have come
But no matter the progress
The absence of all you have done
...remains
................MARKED
Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-26-2024
Categories:
lectern, how i feel,
Form: Rhyme
Not lying outright
is far from the truth
Hesitance vacuous
barren of fruit
What never gets said
deceitfulness hides
Stalking and preying
while buried inside
The pulpit a soapbox
lectern a mask
Pontification
deceptions bombast
Wittingly fervent
the devil subverts
False implication
—the ultimate hurt
(Dreamsleep: February, 2023)
Categories:
lectern, words,
Form: Rhyme
I’m considering becoming a circus clown
For clowns bring joy to others, it seems,
And, I shall wear a bowler made of down.
In the winter I will wear a velvet gown
From a lectern I’ll share my wildest dreams
I am considering becoming a circus clown.
Folks will ask me to entertain all around
My specialty will be inventing schemes,
And, I shall wear a bowler made of down.
For effect, I will sport a perpetual frown
I shall wear the baggiest of denim jeans
I am considering becoming a circus clown.
As a gag, I’ll make a meaningless sound
People will ask me what that noise means
And, I shall wear a bowler made of down.
For encores, I’ll say things most profound
While perfecting my entertaining routines
I am considering becoming a circus clown,
And, I shall wear a bowler made of down.
Written August 22, 2022
Categories:
lectern, clothes, fantasy, fun, me,
Form: Villanelle
The children gathered down in front,
All sprawled about without a care.
The preacher gave a homily
While little Susie twirled her hair.
O, to make some moral imprint,
How the preacher tried and tried!
Tommy tracing in the carpet,
Becky, listless, fussed and cried,
Johnny hanging off the lectern,
Billy, underneath the pews.
So it plays out every week as
Little ears receive good news.
Rounding third and losing steam,
With one last chance to bring it home,
"What's the best gift you have gotten?”
Asked the preacher while they roam.
Jimmy says, "A bright red scooter!"
Maggie yells, "big screen TV!"
"Yesterday I got my ears pierced!”
Sally stands for all to see.
"When I got my baby puppy!"
Loudly squealed another child.
"Jesus on the cross for me,"
Said Mary then, and Grandpa smiled.
Categories:
lectern, children, grandfather,
Form: Rhyme
Dust motes dancing through glancing light,
refracted through stained glass windows, bright.
The smell of old pine and communion wine lingers,
wax polish and roses from grieving widows fingers.
A faint smell of incense, intense in it's nuance,
old hymn books weave their soporific fluence.
The imposing lectern, Gothic and glowering,
the Nave and Transepts, jaw dropping, towering.
The silence echoes in reverent tones,
so as not to disturb the pious bones
interred in alcoves and beneath stones
inscribed with the names of the chosen ones.
Hassock and cassock, pew, aisle and choir,
childish imaginings of brimstone and fire.
Quiet reflections in an old country church
then out to dappled sunlight through Yew, Oak and Birch.
Categories:
lectern, imagery,
Form: Rhyme
Tag, you're it; chosen in the game of life,
it's your turn to decipher its meaning.
Though sarcasm can be as sharp as a knife,
it's a deeper cut that's oft demeaning
and faults common sense for intervening.
To a child, who thinks the world's a playground,
it's impressive; till it becomes a bore.
But life's no joke, and you are not a clown,
so don't let the umpteen things you abhor
cast shadows over the few you adore.
Age provides the lectern for wizened speech,
but no one hears; they have no ears for you.
Reluctant pupils, they're hard to reach,
that is the way of things; there's nothing new
to learn if you believe that to be true.
We're fully aware that our time will end,
and we wonder if reality's real.
For; it is difficult to find a friend
you trust enough to tell them how you feel,
a lifeline that, at times, seems surreal.
Categories:
lectern, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Quintain (English)
Polite to me and tall in gesture fair,
Offering openness to my raw feelings,
Leaving nothing behind but a lectern,
Insisting on my viewpoint and reeling;
Tough on that, and unable to retract,
Energy for my memories so compact.
Categories:
lectern, death, deep, me, memory,
Form: Acrostic
I hear your voice;
standard American,
perfectly Midwestern,
nothing out of the ordinary.
Enchanted, I want more:
I press play, I press pause;
I rewind, and repeat.
My eyes rest on your horn-rimmed glasses,
on the lines around your smile,
on your salt and pepper hair.
you know me so well,
though you don't know me at all.
Tell me more about myself
and about everyone else like me.
Our thoughts are numbers on your scales,
our pain reduced to aggregates,
the cuts on our skin
are graphs projected on the walls
of a cold conference room
one brisk Saturday morning.
I could hate you.
You butchered my beautiful chaos
and packed the parts in sterile boxes.
You look down on me from your lectern
but, your eyes say something else.
Do you really want to know?
Ask me; I have no idea who I am.
Categories:
lectern, depression, psychological, , western,
Form: I do not know?
I have come to the tree green with leaves
Amidst the brash blustering of winter and thawing
The prophet once the old green decieves
But he did not hear else but cold crow cawing
I am come to thronging of the voice
And the memory of years in shadows decayed
For there was no sunlight to rejoice
The heart, nothing bright for what we prayed
But there perched on a lectern like limb
On this gray day you find another voice to sing
The voice I thought I was dead, since dim
Light found you no where on your sovereign and sweet wing
Hark how it sings from Abraham to King
Hark the passion pelting the prodigal of faith
And our weariness melting, we cling
To each word, loving the song and knowing its late.
O but sweet today, and not sweeter
Before, this is the sweetest song you ever sang
Nothing in it for our hereafter
Just the reminder that dawn can still come fire-strong
As we love our leaders to be. Wet
My hope again with dew and set my love to bloom
And for this song I too shall forget
The coming sunset everywhere, the harping doom.
Categories:
lectern, black african american, hope,
Form: Lyric