See Also Poems | Examples

Cultural Appropiation

To Hell with Cultural Approiation or Cultural Copy.
It is very very wrong and unconscionable unless we are copying uplifting values only. 
Copying poor value systems like smoking ganja or cigarettes, over excessive rum/alcohol drinking gun running, crime, and even gloryfying submersive gansata rap lyrics are wrong for our children's sake. these are bad examples. 
I promote instead bigging up our own local Culture to the fullest.
Cultural Apporiation merely teaches us to homour and repect foreign Culture
While relegating our very own.
I want us to love up our own culture with a passion so high and true
That it reaches out to the very sky.
To strive towards good positive culture should always be our true Covenant. 
And so you see Cultopiation to me is more like Cultural Miasappropiation. 

SEE also my song on youtube called Gultural Hypocrisy by Lord Cam

Fireflying

Through dusk’s shadows they soar,
flickering evening lights,
flies flashing cold fire,
bugs unleashing lightning,
micro-luminescent,
miniscule miracles.

Though fainter than candles,
clustered firefly flocks
flash brighter than stars
in summer night skies,
sparking joyous wonder,
fluttering till sunrise.

In our darkened world,
can we shine like them,
glimmering in the gloom,
gifting goodness and hope
for all those who grieve
until a new dawn?


(First published in Feed the Holy, 19 March 2025. See also my poem “Candlelights.”)

A Judgment Day Dialogue: Matthew 25 for 2025

And the Lord will say to them on Judgment Day,
“I was hungry, and you defunded my food aid programs.
I was thirsty, and you rolled back drinking water protections.
I was a stranger, and you snatched me and deported me.
I was naked, and you gave tax breaks to billionaires.
I was sick, and you cut Medicaid and Medicare.
I was in prison, and you gave me no due process.”

And the self-righteous will ask him,
“Lord, when did we do those things to you?”

The Lord will answer them,
“Whatever you did
to one of the least of these,
brothers and sisters of mine,
you did to me.”


(Paraphrased excerpt from Matthew 25:31-46.)

(First published in Substack, 21 May 2025. See also my poems “Bringing Heaven to Earth” and “Quantum Acts of Kindness.”)

Pondering Parables

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.”)

The Golden Road of Kindness

Out of a dusty, destitute, monochrome world,
kindness is a technicolor yellow brick road.
Its pavement winds through perilous forests and fields,
leading to a glittering promise of hope and home.

Making the lengthy journey
requires kindness to others,
and being able to truly be kind
requires certain crucial components.
Kindness needs a heart for compassion,
without which no kind acts would happen.
Kindness needs a brain with empathic wisdom
for knowing how to meet needs of another.
Kindness needs courage for the hazardous times
when being kind is risky, even dangerous.

We need not always walk the path alone.
We meet companions along our journey.
With your heart and brain and courage,
will you walk that golden path with us?


(See also my poems “A Kindness Creed,” “Quantum Acts of Kindness,” and “Get Well Card to Kindness.”)

Election Day Prayer

Oh Lord, hear this prayer!
Not for my party winning.
Not for fattening my wallet.
Not for riding my hobby horse.
Not for idolizing my sacred cow.
But for your divine wisdom to prevail.

Oh Lord, hear this prayer!
Open our blinded eyes.
Open our eyes to truth.
Open our eyes to justice.
Open our eyes to goodness.
Open our eyes to humility.
Open our eyes to honor.
Open our eyes to mercy.
Open ALL of our eyes.
Let it not be too late.


(See also my related poems “The 2023rd Psalm” and “How Would Jesus Vote?”

Eating from the Tree of Misinformation

Near the edge of democracy’s garden
sprouted the Tree of Misinformation,
quickly growing into the largest tree
with leafy branches broad and long and tall.

Though toxic was its eye-catching fruit,
many ate the deceptive apples
that clouded their minds
and blinded their eyes.

They could not even perceive
the clear, self-evident truth
that a deceitful serpent
had slyly seduced them.

Fanatically following the swindler,
angrily amplifying audacious lies,
they spread wide more tainted seeds
throughout the lush fertile garden.

Will the garden wither into wastelands
littered in reeking, rotting fruit and minds,
while the people perish
not understanding why?


(This poem was inspired by the not-nearly-so-dark Oct. 8, 2024 Frank & Earnest cartoon by Bob Thaves as well as the equally dark Garden of Eden story in Genesis 2 and darker-still political events. See also my poems “How Would Jesus Vote?” and “The 2023rd Psalm.”

CLERIHEW tribute HERBERT

So versatile was George
many a new form he did forge
mixing poetry with emblems **was  smart
His churche floore* poetic art

**see also my poem www.poetrysoup.com/poem/george_heberts_emblem_1675787

Get Well Card to Kindness

Dear Kindness,

Thank you so much for all you do
to help heal our wounded world.
We have heard, however,
you have faced health issues
of your own in recent years.
We’re so extremely sorry!
We sincerely wish and pray for you
to have a full and joyous recovery.

Stay well and God bless!

Humanity


(See also my poem “Quantum Acts of Kindness.”)

My Veranda Views

Alone in this veranda
In this rocking chair I love
I see my world in many views
Right now, the field is in full green
Just in time the farmers
Planted after a month of rains
I see also the humdrum life
Besides this two-story house
A bustling street of queued jeepneys
Happen everyday that God has made
What is more exciting is beyond the field
There is a vast sea lies over there
That caught my life attention
In short, the fishing adventure that I love the most
Life is short, I keep the best for it
The bustling life, the field, the sea and me.

Algorithm Almighty

Algorithm Almighty?

By Mark D. Stucky
Will AI’s promise
outweigh its peril?
Do we need more intelligence
even if it is not our own?
If AI someday emulates God or Devil,
will it be too late for us when we find out?

In spite of unquantifiable questions,
almighty algorithms relentlessly grow.
But accelerating AI worries me less
than declining human collective wisdom.
After centuries of expanding knowledge,
people now appear increasingly foolish.
Machines continually get smarter
while populations keep acting dumber.

We might have more to fear
from how we harm ourselves,
as we continue endless conflicts,
than from any ill AI causes us.
Our most dangerous menace isn’t AI.
The deadliest threat to us…is us.


(See also my poems “Haikus Against AI” and “Weapons of Wonder.”)

(Image from anonymous artist on pixabay.com/illustrations/man-face-surreal-imagination-845847/.)

Haikus Against AI

Haikus Against AI

By Mark D. Stucky
Computer AI,
what once was only sci-fi,
is now arising.

You might kill us all,
AI, but write good essays
for my college class?

Wish intelligence
was less artificial and
more real in our world.

No machine needed
for creating recklessness.
Already have lots.

Not nearly enough
authentic intelligence
is found within us.

Let’s search for wisdom
for our souls that’s actual,
not unnatural!


(See also my AI poem “Algorithm Almighty?”)

(Image from anonymous artist on pixabay.com/illustrations/man-face-surreal-imagination-845847/.)

Existential Exams

Existential Exams

By Mark D. Stucky
Math problems, essay questions,
multiple choice, fill in the blanks…
Many are the tests we take
from grade school through grad school.

We also encounter challenging existential exams,
pop quizzes in the swirling whirlwinds of quotidian life,
tests of character, of the heart, of the soul,
that rarely have quick and easy solutions.
Resembling complex math problems,
they challenge us all to “show our work.”


(First published in Solid Food Press, 27 Feb. 2024. See also my poems “Margin of Error,” “Salvation in an App Store,” and “Reluctant Rogue Redo?”)

(Image by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com.)

Faith Bird

Faith Bird

By Mark D. Stucky

 “Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark.” -- Rabindranath Tagore


Faith bird, please sing to me!
Stream music in my heart!
For the night is long,
and I need your song.

Faith bird, please help my doubt
about your promised dawn.
If you do, I’ll hold on tight
in this deepest, darkest night.

Faith bird, I will cherish you.
I will feed and nourish you
to keep your beautiful feathers bright
and for you to have a healthy life.

Faith bird, I will never cage you.
Freely explore all you can view,
but return and perch near to me
to sing your journey melodies.

Faith bird, sing not only to me.
Sing to others who are in need,
to others who long to feel the light
in the dark and cold of lifelong night.


(See also my poems "Consider the (Dreaming) Birds" and "Purgatorial Perceptions.")

(Image by Alex Wigan on Unsplash.com.)

Darkest Night, Morning Lights

Darkest Night, Morning Lights

By Mark D. Stucky
Darkness descends
        upon the rocky land,
        and fills a tomb
        of a slaughtered Lamb.
With that unmerited death,
        everything seems lost,
        and hope seeps away
        into stone cracks.
Trembling tears and fears
        consume devastated disciples,
        scattered about Jerusalem
        and hiding in shadows.
Until the appointed time
        this Sunday morning,
        when light bursts forth,
        vanquishing darkness
        above and from an empty tomb.
Two ascending lights this morning,
        risen sun
        and Risen Son.

(First published in Agape Review, 17 April 2022. See also my poems "Resurrection iBodies," "The God Behind the Curtain," and "Gilded Crosses?")

(Image by Gerd Altmann on Pixabay.com.)

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