We tip with easy hands, folded monetary grace
a gratuity for servers bearing plates through crowded rooms;
their labor seen, their weary, waiting face
a quiet plea our gratitude easily assumes.
Why is it then that the offering plate in Sunday’s space
moves down the pew, our giving often blooms
into reluctance — guarded, slow, displaced?
For God asks softly, hidden from our sight;
no apron, no refilled glass, no hurried pace ~
just love received, too vast to name or trace.
And so we clutch the gift meant to be given,
forgetting open hands are how we live in grace.
He's been a ruler you
can't see
like a measuring stick
in hiding
He's been hiding the fact
he can see
but would you believe
his findings?
They've been watching
his back intensely
while he fills their heads
succinctly
Being light years ahead
is empty
guess that's why
they assumed he's ditzy
Couldn't be further from facts
he's shifty
while he raises the bar
he's shifting
On a whole other plane
he's flying
into spaces that match
his timing
Snuffing the wick of a witch
that's scrying
trying to see where his light
is hiding
In the dark many eyes
are crying
in disbelief of results
from spying
He just gives of himself
as tithing
is as natural to him
as rhyming
As for all of the ties
& bindings
it actually helped to
release the shining
Look to see what the All
is designing
it's unique dare I say
inspiring
They say the temp of
the earth is rising
so why isn't he
like the rest perspiring?
I want someone to snuggle under a blanket with,
to watch TV,
or for fingers to run softly through my hair
while I read, my head in their lap.
I want someone to kiss me goodnight.
And good morning.
Go to work. Pay the bills.
Buy me a gift—just because.
But phones ring, and doors knock,
and emails chime.
Kids scream, and I scream,
Ice cream,
Trucks rumble down the street.
In our marriage, our family, our life,
the closer the walls,
the closer the chaos.
Closed minds, closed doors.
No trips to Bermuda.
No money.
No second honeymoon.
No plan for college, retirement,
or anything in between.
No savings. Just spendings.
Lending but no tithing.
Smaller spaces,
disordered chaos.
Smaller spaces in my head.
Entropy overtakes me.
Written: December 15, 2023
_____________________________________________
It is undeniable that anguish prevails
It hovers close to a lilting voice
There are no strains to rejoice
Once the beat soars, its genesis tweaks.
Giving alms is obvious
Beyond the ethics of the tithing ritual
Coins jingle, evoking a sound
A decrease in the supply of food.
Newborns lack hearing and verbal ability
The elderly sage dresses chaotically
Elfin babies desire soft touch and warmth
Akin to their late mother's calming palm.
Completely lacking in decency
Deep, the ears were concealed
Whilst untamed jaws sow turmoil
It sinks as a modest, rusted nail.
The crowd heartily jeered
Tears fell over their faces relentlessly
Failure was diligently earned
Mass disgust reached high levels.
The whips roared with mirth
Frames grudgingly bore this duty
Correct ideals will be reinstated
Inept debt must be repaid in full.
Tithing untested talents to tyrants;
Heaving hearts and minds in Humpty dumpsters
With vibrant energy and emotional overload,
As sensible as armadillos playing on a road,
To forge a Nirvana from breathless life.
Maunder not over permanent silence:
So, what are a few children, more or less?
Let not debate impede virtue’s progress:
Free speech is Utopia's enema!
Mid-summer dreams slip into the heat
a hazy day, wind streams blow branch and leaf,
humidity thick and heavy in the air,
the July sun beating between the clouds there;
a heartbeat resounding on the winds;
memories lingering, sway in the tempest rising
cyclonic spinning wrapping around me, tithing,
it's just a thought, a ponderance in time
of promises spent early on, in prose and rhyme
while I wait on their return within my prime,
but time only seems to age us,
steals away the experiences of youth
the hopes of what could have been our combined truth;
gone now, lost to the tenacity of what was surplus
as I wait, lost, - no longer us
alone,
me -
without you.
It’s time for me to set God’s people free
In order for the lord to be praised
Thanking God he raised, me to do his work
So happy for the church
That he set me to do things his way
That’s why I have to pay
Tithing and offering and communion
That’s what God wants me to do son
I hope and pray for all the sinners
Cause God made us winners
In Jesus name he payed his life on the cross
And for him I’m not at a loss
I am now found so let God’s people be crowned
Let them be a vessel to fight back towards the tyranny
With the Holy Spirit who resides in me
Set his people free
I ask you to give me strength, cause without you we’re not on the same wavelength
For thine is the kingdom and the glory go on to you father
For that my heart became softer
I asked you into my heart and for that your love will never part
So in Jesus name I pray, this is where I stay
Amen
The successful preacher spoke with a pious tone
very soothing to the ear.
Great days are coming .
when all of mankind shall be peaceable and agreeable
and there shall be no more irredeemable souls.
The church choir stood up and they began to sing like angels and beneath the choir you can hear the rustling of pockets and jingling of change, the snapping and unzipping of handbags, wallets and purses in a very pious tone soothing to the spirit of tithing.
I
Bread has an everyday demanding presence, not daily dough
But daily fare across the miles, across ancient ways and wonders
Built by bread in bellies of slaves and laborers: pyramids and others
II
These days, when I say bread, I think of communion
The first with Abraham, when Melchisadek met him near Mamre
Tithing came naturally to Abraham; Priest without beginning brought bread
III
Then Jesus reminded us that these were Christophanies, heralding Him
"The bread of God is he who comes from heaven to give life to the world"
The Gospel of John (6:33) and again, "I am the Bread of Life" (6:48)
IV
You see, Dear Hearts, beyond the staple, the ordinariness of bread (brown)
You practice: flour, oil, salt must be mixed well; use yeast (my sin upon Him)
You knead. Our need. Wait. Knead. Wait. Start fire. A sacrifice (Complete)
"Oh blessed my soul, you maketh me whole,
You've opened my door, my soul you restore,
You've given me strength when tithing my tenth.
Praise my countenance, giving me confidence,
You've covered my health, your love I have felt,
The angelic host sang, and harmony rang,
So let me lift my cup, for my prayers are on top,
For within this song, everybody belongs,
Let my praises begin, with this righteous hymn,
To our precious Lord above,
Spread
Wings your anointing dove."
2019 September 08
Some say Heaven
Is just a myth
While many others
Know it's really lifes greatest gift
I come to sit in the back pew
Every Sunday at 9
Tithing in hope, in hope I can find
A little bit of pick me up, in this
World that's gone wrong
So tell me..
What will I lose, even if I'm wrong
If the good book wasn't written
How would a man atone
And I'll admit I'm a sinner, in this
World full of sin
I can't imagine
Giving up my only son
To have him shed his blood
Even if it's for eternal love
Seems I have all kind of friends
Who say I'm wasting my time
Praying to some fictional guy
But I know hell is compelled to make
Me think that I'm wrong
So tell me..
What will I lose, even if I'm wrong
If the good book wasn't written
How would a man atone
And I'll admit I'm a sinner, in this
World full of sin
If the good book isn't right
At least I'll live a life
In a way I can hang my hat on
So let me ask you, what do I have to lose
Even if I'm wrong
Live the way you want too
But what will I lose... even if I'm wrong
Sin took away your Holy Spirit
Sin took away my Will
Sin took away my Praying
Sin took away my Fasting
Sin took away my Tithing
But Sin could not take away your Word In My Heart
The pastor was feeling quite blue,
Pennies on his plate were few,
So he gave a blazing rendition
On the church's tithing tradition
And the pennies on his plate soon grew.
A dime out of every dollar, a penny out of every dime;
I only want My children to give Me what is Mine.
I blessed you with a job, it pays good wages too!
And all I ask you to give Me is the ten percent I am due.
I promised you in My Word, that I would bless your finances,
If only you would put me first in all your circumstances.
If you would acknowledge Me in all of your ways,
Then I will give an increase and bless your remaining days.
If only you will trust Me, and believe what I say;
Then bring your tithe and offering to My house today.
I'll open up the windows of Heaven and you will plainly see,
How to prosper and be successful, and be a blessing to Me.
I am waiting for you,
I am just around the bend.
And when you make one hundred;
Remember, I am only asking for ten!!
GOD
My Lover’s heartfelt tithing setting by my bedside looms.
For his comment undermining, gave a gift of Lily blooms,
but the bouquet ever blossoms off intoxicating fumes
and the blunder of my Lover unbeknownst becomes my doom….
What augurs well, perchance foretell! The Lilies shroud my tomb?
So drifting off through slumber soft my summer sloth descends
into the blue, the muddled hue before the black begins
and dreams supreme replaced by screams as Nightmare settles in.
For if I die before I wake, eternity to spend!
I pray my Love, my Soul, to take the lilies back again.
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