Long Frailty Poems
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From the Heart to the Cross
The burden to carry on a journey slated
Weighs heavily on an outcome known to be ill- fated,
When Faith is the belief in hope for deliverance
Where humanity’s destiny hangs in the balance.
In mirrors dwell prisoners’ angst and desperate rot,
To lay their heads in the bosom of Madonna.
One way leads to the Saviour, the other does not.
Be it by choice, from the heart to the cross.
Comfort and joy. God will provide sanctuary
The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Though Mary mourns, her anguish is temporary.
Unbelievers throw stones, yet His Word lives on.
His last hour on Golgotha shook civilization.
Angels triumphantly trumpeted the Lord’s salvation.
A madman with a hammer thrashes the Pietà1
To eradicate the metamorphic rock sculpture from history
That Michelangelo chiseled out of Carrara marble2—
Who made the seated Madonna larger and profanely stronger,
While cradling Jesus (whose appearance projects frailty)
As if having been chastised for allowing crucifixion.
A mollification for theological credence,
Neither reinforced nor inspired by biblical writings.
By appeasement, the sculptor admits conspiracy
With dogma, misrepresenting Christ to the living.
Mary’s demureness as she looks upon the contorted figure
Supports the illusion of her lordly stature.
***
Notes:
1 Pietà: The “Pietà” is a sculpture by Michelangelo (1475–1564) depicting the Madonna cradling Jesus after His crucifixion. The sculpture was completed in 1500 and is housed in St. Peter’s Basilica, Vatican City, Italy.
On May 21, 1972, an Australian citizen vandalized the Pietà with a geologist’s hammer. The individual was not charged with any criminal offence but was hospitalized in Italy for two years and then released and deported back to Australia.
2 Carrara marble: Carrara marble is stone quarried in Carrara, Tuscany, Italy. The three most common types of Italian marble are Carrara, Calacatta, and Statuary (aka Statuario). Michelangelo is reported to have said that this was the most “perfect” block of stone he ever used.
God really understands human frailty.
Out the dust of the earth he created
Adam. But out of Adam's rib, he
Created Eve. Dust they were
Made of and to dust they did
Return. And so will all of their
Sons and daughters.
God remembers that we were
made out the dust of the earth.
He understands our physical
And spiritual weakness.
Which is why he is willing to
Make allowances for us.
God sent the second Adam,
Jesus Christ, into the world.
To redeem men, women, boys
And girls.
God knows we inherited our
Adamic sinful nature. God
Knows all about our sins of
Commission and our sins of
Omission. And he understands
The difference between the two.
And he explains it to his children,
Too. Sins of commission are sinful
Acts we deliberately make on
Purpose. Whereas sins of
Omission are acts, words,
And deeds we neglect to
Do. Mainly through carelessness,
And ignorance.
God knows and understands our
Willful and habitual sins, and
Will help us forsake them!
God loves his prodigal sons
And daughters, who repent.
Confess and forsake their sins!
God knows, "the spirit is willing,
But the flesh is week." Our
Fleshy nature wars against
Our spiritual nature. But
Jesus Christ came to overcome
The devil and to deliver his
Sons and his daughters.
"And he whom the son sets free is
Freeborn indeed." Jesus Christ
Sent the Holy Spirit to dwell
Within his sons and daughters.
Who accept his blood sacrifice
For their sins and become part
Of the body and bride of
Our Lord Jesus and Savior
Jesus Christ, who is divine!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
July 10, 2020
A Bowl of Sadness
When I awoke he was gone, well,
not really gone but disappearing,
slowly, as the misty fog on the surface
of a mirror lake. His memory lingers
and sometimes returns, as does the
mist, but never stays. I missed him
less and less as time and loneliness
conspired to invent stories that could
be conjured up and smile about.
They failed and left me only the truth.
The truth, what truth is there in a
darkened room, a faded, fearful moment,
a never ending scar. What truth,
save the lie of truth denied, obscured,
hidden lest the truth destroy the true.
I grew to hate him, to despise his weakness,
his frailty, his fear, vowing never to be like
him. I built a calloused frame about myself,
banishing him to pained seclusion,
vowing never to depend on or befriend
any such as he. His wailing would awaken me
at times, rekindling the fear of darkened room,
and a moment ever fresh. At times I would
not shun him, would allow him rest upon
warm bed, grant him freedom from his
fear and avert my eyes from living’s
scar. Sometimes we sit together
and share a bowl of sadness.
John G. Lawless
Excavations expose stunning skulls of history,
Where-around emblazoned scripts cultures and creatures;
Minds of human beings and their mass mystery,
The whole lot that surrounds them with all true features...
Be it Rosetta stone or Ashurbanipal's,
Troy or king Tut's tomb; Machu Picchu or Pompeii;
Be Akrotiri Tehra or the Dead Sea Scrolls,
Olduvai Gorge, or structures stunningly cozy...
I have been wondering at unearthing premiere,
Of the terracotta army of China's first king,
Unearthed by the farmers on a mystical sphere,
Where they witnessed the painstakingly created wing...
The clay warriors with chariots and horses,
Acrobats, musicians, artisans, and craftsmen;
Buried as the emperor's crisis armed forces,
Defend him in his afterlife from every pain...
Are these artifacts blended with enormous love,
Of the citizens to their beloved king great?
Or a branch of paraphernalia does state shove,
To preserve the power of the king and elate…?
Excavations, within, are essential as well,
To ascertain every strength and frailty hidden;
To learn lessons from failures and past flaws to quell,
Every darkness dwelling in the realm, forbidden...
Let's dig! Deep! Not content with the periphery!
Expose the minds! Hearts! Bring out the innermost soul!
Hair split the history's marvelous mystery!
Test the artistry, sandstone, proficiency whole!
Think of the human hands that create every art,
Cumulating courage; working relentlessly;
Hungry, thirsty, empty-handed, love-filled at heart;
Partaking in the endless plan of God restlessly...
12 July 2021
This or That, Vol 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
In the dark alley of time my mind-body duality wanders
With the life stumbling on the hazards of blunders
The frailty of the unknown far-off future destined
Casts shadows of despair on my innate disposition.
I wish a glittering highway appear for me to escape
And I am able to carve for my life an egoistic shape
Configure the earthly elements of desire in essence
Chase the migrating mirage of mundane opulence.
In the entangled landscape of confused existence
I pursue the endless trail of unbound craving
Rambling in the sense wasteland of possession false
I am trapped in the sordid mire of mortal being.
Trying to get released from the captivating clasp
Of karmic destiny, leading to loss of the sense of self
The perception of divine conscience pervades me
I transcend the space-time limits for inward journey.
Detached from the transient life’s enmeshing web
I lose mind-body identity in the sanctum of psyche
Where time is lost in the timeless deep silence
I am then suffused with sublime Sattvaic bliss.
As my soul wishes to serenely unfurl the divine lotus
I perceive His graceful endowment of nirvana
Beautify my sublimated life with heavenly adornment
The absolute then assimilates the aspiring atman.
_______________
December 18, 2022
Contest : Our Soul's Wish List
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker
I possess no sovereign gift
to decipher a heart through the silent language of the soul.
Within the narrow dominion of self-interest,
I often consign my emotions to sacrificial flames,
burying them beneath the weight of restraint.
Like Bankim's Nandadulal,
I remain incapable of making my truth understood.
Instead, venomous words are hurled at me,
turning even my humble sustenance
into a feast seasoned with scorn.
This vast theatre of existence
is carved from unforgiving stone;
its relentless hardness seldom yields,
and one must traverse life's winding roads
laden with burdens too intricate to name.
The towering monument of today's self-importance
may crumble into tomorrow's frailty.
Yet when your mortal footsteps fade
from this transient earth,
it will not be your possessions that endure,
but the luminous legacy of your creations.
Greatness is never measured
by the hollow rituals of performative compassion;
it blossoms instead
within the boundless architecture of a magnanimous heart.
Do not, through cunning schemes and calculated deceit,
leave another soul bruised and broken.
Seek not the counterfeit comfort
of civility wrapped in immaculate appearances;
for true joy has never dwelt
within the polished envelope of pretence,
but in the quiet radiance of genuine humanity.
Allow my wisdom to assert warnings along historical authenticity
Bringing the truth, “In the beginning God created…”* with perfect beauty
Championing supreme sovereign control over mankind’s creativity
Driving the need for people to fulfill their foremost directed duty…
Exposed toward Adam and Eve along their impact for eternity
Faith of mine fervently clings to the Lord midst human frailty
Gripped by God’s grace while grieving due to greed’s gravity
Here am I heralding that there’s hope in turning from hostility…
Immune to the cycle of people’s existence marked with infirmity
Justice I yearn to behold in advocating honesty of triumphant joviality
Kindness shown to everyone, not just to pets like doggie and kitty
Love for each other, I hail, to reign along enjoyment of pardon’s liberty…
Mismanagement of resources midst selfishness mars the Creator’s majesty
Now, I beseech functional citizens to exercise nurture against notoriety
Opening themselves for constructive changes with readiness-opportunity
Paradigm shift toward transformation for next generation’s posterity…
Quitting irresponsibility and abuse for granted dominion with role’s quality
Realize, recognize and resolve problems along God’s governing renewability
Sensibility with sensitivity I continue to seek from civilizations in their sobriety
Thankful for grace of the Life-Giver Who upholds earth in His tenacity…
Understanding Earth’s status vis-à-vis inhabitants’ stature of uncertainty
Virtuous heart vows to pray for redemption, repentance and revival’s vitality
Wishing to win against waywardness and wickedness, while watchfully witty
‘Xercising optimism along trust in the Lord for people’s grievous 'xtremity
Yearning for “O earth, hear the word of the LORD”* to become divinely yeasty
Zooming toward New Heaven and New Earth with holy zeal, spiritually zesty.
*Genesis 1:1
**Jeremiah 22:29
November 20, 2024
1st place, "In the cycle of Existence" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Anoucheka Gangabissoon; judged on 1/5/2025
Inspired by deathbed utterance of George Washington :
“I die hard, but I am not afraid to go”
The gloomy night fell through the mist,
swathed by the solemnity of farewell.
The worn out unbroken voice expressed
the restrained realism of dying hard,
not as a complaint, but a confession of strife,
recognizing death not as extermination,
but a natural termination of life lived
in the shadow of providence with faith in divine edict.
In the final analysis life recognizes
the mortal limits of human acuity,
ingrained within the stoic ideal of classical virtue
of acceptance the reality without fear,
revealing the contrasting dimensions of frailty and pride
as the dual facets of existence that connect
sorrow with bliss, mortality with immortality.
The truest form of bravery lies not in daring death
but in meeting it undefeated with poise and quietude
at the moment of departure as the essence of completion
that transcends the human failings,
marking the moral victory over fear and doubt.
The acknowledgement of the frightful notion of dying
is the mark of honesty while the fearlessness testifies
that the soul is the supreme master of the body,
conveying the eternal truth that moral might lies
in confronting death without fear in a dignified manner,
for the ultimate realization that destiny treats life well
is the final expression of trust,
a surrender to the divine doctrine.
Before birth
I was the universe
All knowing, all embracing
Molecules of beauty in floating meditations
I was everywhere
Then............
The darkness.........
The womb.......
I begot limbs and flesh
Imprisoned inside this human frailty
I was freed, exposed, pushed, fallen into humanity
Lights, voices, sins, I screamed
They cut off my only bond to the universe
Here, a baby an orphan of the heavens
Imprisoned upon the imperfections of human realms
Hell.................
The holy book of sins...........
The great sadness.........
I miss the cosmic beauty
Stuck here, the devils collection of earthly kin
Days... weeks.....decades…. despair......
I plotted and planned
The great escape
From this finite boxed in land
I begged the infinite, and danced with infinity
The universe waltzed
I twirled with insightful delight
Soon, to be rejoined with eternal light
To be free, to roam the stars
My death, now rejoined with the heavens and all of thee
You visit, candles and crocus upon Parisian stone
I am neither there or even here any more
I have become what I once was, healed and whole
All knowing, all embracing
I am God, the universe once more
Was round about the 60's
And I a budding teen
Was influenced and touched
By a program I had seen
Rod Sterling was the narrator
Of a series quite well known
With weekly visits to a world
Named the "Twilight Zone"
And to this day one episode
The best without debate
Has taught me 'bout the frailty
Of Man against his fate
A short meek man from Queens, New York
Henpecked by his wife
Found his joy in reading books
To assuage a bit his strife
Voracious was his appetite for
Tomes and all that's written
Yet blind without his glasses
He's as docile as a kitten
In the vault under his bank one day
While making a transaction
The world above was subject to
A nuclear reaction!
When he surfaced to the top
To view the mass destruction
He found that only he'd survived
And came to this deduction
No wife! No rules! No one to shriek
Or tell him what to do!
Only stacks and shelves of books
To read, peruse and view
Paperbacks and hardcover
Pamphlets, primers, scrolls
The whole damn New York Library
With him at the controls!
Then as he pictured life
In a world with voices hushed
He bent his head to grab a book
His glasses broke..........................
All crushed.............