Son of God. Son of Man.
Here on earth, He took a stand.
And walked among mortal souls
Shared His ways and stories told
Wisdom, counsel, common sense
In parables His Word He sent
The sower and the seed
Some grew, some went to weeds.
The beloved son who went astray
But was welcomed back another day.
Faith as small as a tiny kernel
Can move a mountain vast and eternal.
Not all neighbors look like you
Twas the Samaritan that was true.
A pearl, a prize worth all and more
Such is the gift of Heaven’s door.
Ninety-nine are safe and sound
But he searches till the one is found.
A tree well-tended refused to fruit
Is torn from the soil stem and root.
Her coin was lost and hard to find
Yet something treasured won’t be left behind.
The King forgives the servant’s debt
Grace not passed on brings judgment back.
Some worked an hour, some worked all day
Yet the owner gave each an equal pay.
One built on rock, the other on sand
A solid foundation allows one to stand.
Some brought oil, some did not
Be ready when the bride is sought.
Among tales told long ago were those
of finding hidden buried treasures,
of growing seeds in diverse soils,
of building homes on sand or rock,
of sorting worthy sheep from wicked goats,
of inviting multitudes to a banquet,
of celebrating a prodigal returning home,
of saving a life by a scorned Samaritan.
Jesus loved earthly stories
with heavenly implications.
His parables were spiritual seeds
sown in hearers’ hearts and minds,
analogies thrown alongside
puzzling narrative plots,
poignant truths with shocking twists
and unexpected outcomes.
Deceptively simple, sly stories
with multiple potential meanings,
his parables perplexed expectations,
and upended usual understandings.
Even his bewildered disciples
pleaded for private interpretations.
During careful contemplation,
parables interrogate our lives.
Providing few easy answers,
parables compel us to ponder.
(First published in Earth & Altar, 14 Nov. 2024. See also my poems “God Around the Corner” and “Consider the Dreaming Birds.”)
Parables
Those stories many
And unending
A seeker's path
Ending with
The end of these
Parables...
Table of The Scribed
Only of the true muse in mind,
Being a he or she?
Can scribe of the darknesses they feel,
Being it told, indeed.
Being this breed of spirits,
Sitting at the Abysses table, take heed!
For that's the table of the;
Devils and Gods,
We are the tellers;
For we are the scribes.
Take up thy quill;
Quick hurry,
Put it in your hand?
Write down the scribes of;
Phraseology, terminology,
They're many forms in their styles!
Am I sure they will understand?
I am learning all the while;
Understand these words
Even the symbolic,
Are they written too absurd?
Revised Edition; September 06, 2021, 4:33 PM (EST)
I
mystery in seeds:
real to me, small, flat gourd seed
now, shoots at window smile
II
Flat white seed planted
a meter from window
three weeks: hi from window
Does your conniption fit?
If it's not a laughing matter, then it's not important.
Did you ever notice that when you stir a glass of something, the spoon says, "Jibiddy jibiddy jibiddy jibiddy"?
Worst first name of anyone I ever met: Schmedroy.
The goods thing about “hardship” is the thirst for “Success”
Success is an unending process it begins even at the peak of another persons success
Be like the blue sky: where greatness and Success has no limit.
The things you say about the success of others is the judgment you get from others or what you perceive as success
Life and hope are corresponding Issues to the nature of success
Wisdom is maturity and maturity makes the mind, be wise to become successful
Hardship in life, is the Beginning of a Successful Journey in History
You Succeed when you have acquired, and you have acquired when you have succeeded.
Do not subterfuge to succeed but be submissive to succeed.
Roseline olajide
From "Portrait"
Tears must be hidden from those
Who are not spiritually receptive?
But we ought to laugh for those who represent anger
And for those who are able to heal
With strange medicines to our lives.
Hold on with mixed feelings
They are the most rewarded with heaven
And the purpose is to confirm it by such internal
Forces!
But you could set them thinking
By parables; not by the lesson for which it becomes
Master; rather by the most remarkable
Instances of demon possession:
Sights of Evil have upon us.
from "Portrait"
The physical healing of parables
There is such a thing of mystery
As righteous anger and confuse
Which He expresses himself
With the ability of acknowledged humble.
You just have to swallow of what
Special details are given in connection
With your hungry of learning;
And that should be one who follows him
Expecting to sometimes be
Glorified by our senseless argument!
Abuse of God's Grace / Necessity of Righteousness
MT 22:1-14
LK 14:15-24
One of his fellow guests on hearing this said to him, "Blessed is the one who will dine in the kingdom of God."
He replied to him, "A man gave a great dinner to which he invited many
When the time for the dinner came
He dispatched his servant to say to those invited
'Come, everything is now ready.'
But one by one, they all began to excuse themselves...
The servant went and reported this to his master
Then the master of the house in a rage commanded his servant
'Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in here the poor and the crippled
The blind and the lame.
' The servant reported, 'Sir, your orders have been carried out and still there is room.
' The master then ordered the servant
'Go out to the highways and hedgerows and make people come in that my home may be filled.
For, I tell you, none of those men who were invited will taste my dinner.'" (Taken from LK 14:15-18, 21-24)
A
triple
expression-
of a bygone
age
Tryptch of Max Beckmann
Mythology flawed by immortality disintegrating endeavor of blind obedience,
unsolved lies if ancient times sinister words of a saved saint in the presents of
the creator of absolute. Sleepwalker of tormented faith stained and barefoot in
the white room of dominant conflict this prison of ideology with in the final
solution of vague intuition. The greed of man never steadfast in omega winds
corroding the suffering humane in the landscape of sane all will be done with
heavy influence nihilistic as the Vatican insisted.
I
am so beautiful
and I
think this whole thing is pitiful
where all these
crazy people
try to to bring me down
but I stand
so
proud
here on
this consecrated
ground
why must all these voices
pile up so
high
growing loud
bringing me down
yea, but I won't
hide
silver cups
overflowing
people wondering
without knowing
these crowds so
very lost
hear me now
so shallow here
attempts to bleed out these
purging words
falling deeper onto this
bed of swords
don't know where I'm falling towards
beside me
beside you
our fading dreams start to
obstruct our view
and these fickle signs
they begin to
realign
what I said to you