Pixelated, dark, and with word I did not know,
I met you with that mask.
And though I’m sure I have memorised it’s crevices,
Your shirt, the glasses.
I feel guilty about it still.
God is something of many that connects us,
Something that loosened our ropes,
And your cross is highlighted in my moonlight,
And yet I’m drawn to you still.
Your wisdom outshines mine,
And you bask in it well,
And your tan fingers ran over my route before me,
I follow along, to my peers’ disdain,
And I look up to you still.
For, my dear, you have been through hell
And with each of my beats the ache grows,
And your scars match my own,
And your lack of an ichor leash let the worst inside,
And we fall today still.
And my protection I do wish you had,
Though our locations do not align,
Shared nations, interests,
And realising you may know me best,
Yet I have not met you still.
One God; one spirit man; one creation.
One spirit man of infinite forms and
expressions. One earth of infinite size
and locations. One eternity of infinite
infinites. God breathes out so that we
may breathe in. He proves himself daily.
Faith and knowledge are a Universal One.
Dots on the globe called locations
tied to times, places, and situations,
arranged in haphazard design,
their inspiration, anything but divine.
Another morning,
Stormy gray lies,
Verification code 062480,
Method of payment,
Onerous office,
Forgotten,
Depressed/suppressed,
Collision warning!
Erring & errands,
Shopping for sanity,
Trembling triad,
Solo sunset,
Revised & deleted,
140,000+ miles,
275 poems,
Life, films, anti-humans,
Usually hard,
Orange King,
If Jefferson became Burr,
2mm, DVR the clubhouse,
Geeks inherit the earth,
Sales + senior,
Emailing Miock,
Texting mockery,
Dust, dirt, remote work,
Deported to Mars,
Arriving dead,
Appointment, agencies, locations,
Unremarkably dressed,
Will do,
Barely alive @ 5:15 AM,
Squealing grocery cart,
Monday miasma,
Pausing, freezing, crashing,
Bureaucratic blasphemy,
Problem: garbage,
The End begins,
A lurid mini-series,
Super-8, hooray!
Sunday—updated,
Made sadder,
Check Engine Light (aarrggghhh),
No refills,
Pitted windshield,
Obsessive recycled cyclones,
MacBook weeps,
Fiasco at night,
Discharged,
Digital snake oil,
Smitten spreadsheet,
Ignoble typos,
Nightmares in Midtown,
Select 0,
Chapter/s paused,
Deaden this promptly,
Lying biopics,
Naughty neologisms,
Flying, falling, exploding,
Cancelled lives,
Unresolved.
Everything leads up to this
adds up to this position
where you think you'll be alone
forever but fairly soon if not exactly
next week you will meet someone
in a park or stuck in traffic
They will set your flesh alight
slowly much too slowly and it
will seem like bad behaviour
you will feel as if
as if you are harbouring an infection
You will be together for five years and six months
through violent happiness and time zones
and locations such as
hospitals and mountains
After which you will think you are recovered
having acquired a liquid grace and social ease
friends will say
you seem younger less precious
Now take this pill you must forget
this will ever happen
Age does not define us,
But our choices surely do.
How I live my life may not
At all appeal to you.
We have to find that comfort zone
Between our younger verve
And, in our later years, that well
Of vigor in reserve.
Some people choose to stay at home,
Quite happy to embrace
The extra time to just relax,
Not going anyplace.
While others, with the end in sight,
Have trips they rush to plan,
Locations where they’ve never been,
To travel while they can.
There is no right or wrong in this;
All people must decide
If they’re ready to step off the train
Or stay on for the ride.
Euphuistic
Does you hand wad
Neither shoe burned into
A railroad spike
At night
I temper sound
Minds get rudes
Tellers often worry
On locations, and plenty
If we ain't prepared
Progress ain't caught wind
Chairs and snakes
Like hauntmares
No saddles
Give me no rides
I felt no bumbs
Angels are humanoids with bird- like wings.
Travel fast changing locations with swings.
They’re perceived as other worldly soul forms.
They guide and tell humans about His norms
They're messengers between God and mankind.
They discharge His orders that are defined.
They pull out negative power and heal.
We read about them with a lot of zeal
Angels reincarnate into cute girls.
Immaculate with pure hearts as white pearls
They carry legacy to grooms' houses
Connect the families as best spouses
They're the best managers and serve both ends.
Shower love and bliss with more dividends
They build lineage and family trees
Daughters! A family's real trustees
They say the root of all evil is money
Taking from everyone with their cunning
I think most Americans would agree
Their having trouble feeding their family
Going to the grocery store is extreme
Charging too much due to greed
Don’t care about the people’s needs
Paying too much to feed the family
Gas prices are through the roof
Making it expensive to go to work
Work from home if you can
To survive you need a plan
The cost of living is destroying us
Many can’t make it and are going bust
Keeping are cars until they rust
Survival for some is in “God We Trust”
Property taxes cause rage
Many can’t afford their mortgage
Rents are out of control
Causing many young adults to stay at home
Interest rates are so high
No one can afford to buy
Businesses are closing locations
After many generations
What can we do to survive
Being pushed forward due to pride
Proving we are tough
To stubborn to give up
Some may see it as simple fancy,
Yet my view is more complex.
Where its force is multi-dimensional,
Reaching well beyond basic sex.
It's very nature is purely elemental,
Just like electro-magnetic and nuclear as well.
Such that gravity follows along with purpose,
Giving weight to power every cell.
While a few may cling to its chemistry,
Thinking that's all it takes to combine.
Others will dwell on its electricity
Believing a spark is all that's needed,
or some wine.
As much as we try to define the character,
When looking at spatial locations that exist.
We might see length, width, and height involved,
With intensity, duration, & elevation to insist.
Whether eternal or infinite in its ultimate pursuit,
It matters to all that contain a beating heart.
Because without it resides a lonely, dark space,
Where nobody wants to be to depart.
Locations for everyone to know truth!
Kensington
Children of frustration
when dreams rose from the heap
the darkest of locations
tell white lies as they speak
open to persuasion
when abilities are weak
waves of degradation
disturbs all those asleep
awake the dispensation
to turn the other cheek
the house that they were raised in
and company they keep
a blur of segregation
when summers burn with heat
sit back for meditation
and sow all that is reaped
peer deep into what’s stationed
the lost or stolen sheep
a core that rocks a nation
only on occasion weeps
passed down from generations
too scared to take a peak
the truth is out there somewhere
you can find it in the street.
I’ve never seen a baby pigeon
And I’d be impressed
If anyone could show me one,
All cozy in its nest.
Their homes are likely hidden
In locations out of sight,
Perhaps unreachable to all
Who cannot manage flight.
The same applies to squirrels.
When we see them, they’re full-grown
And scampering from tree to tree
Without a chaperon.
When visiting a farm or zoo
Or pet store we might see
A creature in its youngest days,
But it occurs to me…
That in the city, we do not
Have access, like we should,
To the fauna we’re familiar with
In youth or babyhood.
‘Nothing will be impossible with God,’
replied Gabriel to Mary.
Christmas opened
what prophecies foretold.
The tremble of epiphany
dropped from angel-songs on shepherd folk.
Magi astronomers desired to find
this incarnate mystery revealed.
Nativity of God was seen,
believed,
and heaven opened for eternity
as Mary kissed the promised child.
Reference: “For nothing will be impossible with God.” Luke 1:37
ESV Bibles. ESV Classic Reference Bible (Kindle Locations 186583-186584).
Crossway. Kindle Edition.
Character References
By Mark D. Stucky
If I applied for new employment,
should I write down for my references
my malicious manager who mistreats workers,
my onetime teammate serving prison time,
my drug-dealing cousin crashing in a crack house,
or long-lost relatives living in unknown locations?
If I used such rogue references,
could I honestly expect acceptance?
Yet, Jesus applied for the job
of Redeemer of humanity
and, for references, he is using us,
rogue saints and reformed sinners,
who all too often fail our calling
to love all other people
and pursue righteousness.
With character references
as checkered as Christians are,
can Jesus expect acceptance
by the rest of the world?
(First published in Calla Press, 9 April 2022. See also my poems “Hate Vacuuming?” and “What Would Jesus Tweet?”)
(Image by Van Tay Media on Unsplash.com.)
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