An utterly Useless Tale
On a big round oak table in a living room, a vase, in its small crack, lived two house ants. They were sitting outside, considering a box of matches on the tabletop.
“if the box was empty, I’m sure I could push an inch or two the first and said. “Yeah,” the other snorted.
A man came into the room, took a matchstick out of the box, and put it back on the table, this time by its edge, and walked out.
The first ant giggled and said, “If we both push the box, it will fall on
the floor, no one will know how it ended there.”
They traversed the vast expanse of the table, pushed the box off the table, hurried back into their crack, and laughed heartily.
They had been frightened
people usually kill house ants at first
sight. The man came back, saw the box on the floor, shook his head, picked it up, and placed it back on the table. Our ants were in stitches
They were tempted to push the box on the floor again
but gave it up, the risk someone could come in with a duster
was too great
Back at their crack, they went to sleep
There’s tar on the floor,
Two, or three, or five, or more,
Don’t know why I’m counting, there’s nothing in store.
Sticky and dark, there’s nothing to read
You don’t rid of it, it will only breed.
Strong, loud, conscious
Living, living, living.
Useless bodies
They roll around aimlessly
Ram into anything they can destroy
Their own pleasure.
Their own entertainment
It's all about them,
Let them live.
gun
no bullets
a throne
no king
a teacher
no pupils
an army
no organization
a war
no weapons
all like talking some sense into...
a fool.
How can I tell you, Lord,
That you seem far away
And every time I start to pray
You don’t seem to be there?
How can I tell you, Lord,
Sometimes I fear
You may be just a thought
That my imagination
Likes to feel is real
When it is not?
How can I tell you, Lord,
I don’t know how to pray,
When others seem so sure,
So certain and secure
In their relationship with you?
How can I tell you, Lord,
I feel so poor
When others grow so large
In their devotion year by year
While I stay small?
How can I tell you, Lord,
I feel so useless?
What have I done for you?
I hear of others’ deeds
And words and wonders
Yet here it seems
My days are passed
In little profit to your cause.
How can I tell you, Lord?
I’d like to go
Right back
Beginning once again
And start the path afresh.
“My strength is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9
Look at my eyes, what do you see
I can see hidden tears unshed
Tears of pain and miseries
That always wet your saddened bed
Look at my legs, what do you see
I can see tired and timid legs
Too afraid to move towards your dreams
Instead of moving towards it, they fled
Look at my tongue,what do you see
I can see a tied tongue
Hesitating to state it seeings and feelings
Tis good to be silent but sometimes wrong
Look at my hands, what do you see
I can see the power to change your destiny
For it is written on your palms
In letters only you can understand
You can change the tears to a joyful one
You can start moving your timid legs
You can be the owner of your tongue
Your hands are not meant to be folded
What hope if I alone must strive
commandments to obey?
Could all my self-constructed good
withstand the Judgement Day?
Supposing I could keep one day
completely free from sin.
Would that be good enough from God
eternal life to win?
If I protest my innocence
before the accusing Word,
would that persuade the Righteous Judge
to leave my case unheard?
Nothing that I articulate
can contradict God’s Word;
indelible His judgement stands,
with Him I must concur.
No works of my poor righteousness,
no deeds that I think good,
can overcome my total need
of Jesus’ precious blood.
Provision far beyond my dreams
impossible to fail –
my Saviour dying in my place;
His righteousness prevails!
“He was wounded for our transgressions.”
Isaiah 53:5
I want to be
A useless friend
Without a means
Towards an end
I'd love to be
That one you know
Who's presence heals
With naught to show
Transaction lite
No gifts or tools
Just present
There to break the rules
That life is full
And resource heavy
True friends don't need
Transaction levy
I'd love to be
The friend you choose
When life is sweet
Nothing to lose
Unrequired
Layabout
Just present
For a mate hangout
Agenda free
Just there to hold
Nothing is bought
Nothing is sold
I want to be
There on demand
To chat and laugh
Or hold a hand
There is no reason
No goal, no end
I simply want
To be that friend
I become lost in all of the words that you try to say,
all of the nothing that comes tumbling from your mouth.
Won't you just touch me, and let your body speak to me instead?
In negative word's the coward's song,
A whispered plea where they belong.
No light to guide their trembling feet,
They hide from life, their fears complete.
Complainers sigh with heavy breath,
Their words a dirge of endless death.
No joy can pierce their sullen veil,
They find in gloom their dark betrayal.
But courage blooms in hearts so rare,
Beyond the reach of coward's snare.
Have you wiped off the traces of me
Our shared photo albums, emails?
Have you tidied up your memory
Are you sure it is cleaned of my trails?
You had no time to spare a minute
I quite understand, knowing that
You are completely within it
When problems dictate the impact
Defending your life, you don’t need me
Concentration is all you need
But what if I too, concentrate on thee,
Will you cut me off as a useless weed?
I
Not to dream of you you so much
Now I sleep wide awake...
Even so, I always dream of you!
II
To not see your gaze,
I erased my whole life
pure stupidity and uselessness...
I see you every moment, often!
Like a bagel with no hole
Like a flag without a pole
Like a singer with no soul
Like a furnace with no coal
Like a gangster with no moll
Like a quest without a goal
Like a bell that cannot toll
Like a super with no bowl
Like a yacht without a keel
Like a car without a wheel
Like a con without the spiel
Like a thief who cannot steal
Like a key that will not turn
Like a log that will not burn
Like a boss who isn’t stern
Like a skill you cannot learn
It’s a pen that leaves no mark
It’s a dog that cannot bark
It’s a silence in a lark
It’s the padlock at the park
It’s a great big open space
Like there’s nothing any place
It’s an ass in a horse race
It’s the blankness on my face
It’s the words I wish to write
That refuse to see the light
And I worry that my plight
Is because I’m not that bright
It’s the words unthought, unsaid
It’s a veil that can’t be shed
It’s the blackness in my head
It’s my muse…
I think she’s dead.
Please quit being such a witch
Take your attitude and ditch
It away from your meanness streak
Or it's looking very bleak
For you to have any friends
This kind of attitude just sends
A picture of you violently
Attacking all kind souls like me
Who just want to spread good cheer
Your bad vibes are everywhere
Counteracting our good deeds
Your mental state really needs
To take a flip flip around
Or your mouth I'll gag and bound
So words of disgust wont come out
That's not what life is all about
We need to treat others kindly
Not walk around hating blindly
Not seeing how your affecting
All the work we've done dissecting
Negativity that's everywhere
We don't want the hate and fear
Others like you are sending
Into a world that should be lending
A more gentle kind approach
Do not be a filthy roach
Whose disease will never die
Please just give it a quick try
If your nicer and more human
We all can end this pain we're in
How come you overlook such witty answers?
Those smashers, always hitting up too late!
They fluff the air with dust, like ballet dancers
Whirl down, like feathers in ethereal debate
Watch them in rapid whoosh, like flock of swifts
Triumphal answers, doing mortal pirouette!
Next second they are cloud, that slowly shifts
Before your eyes, like smoke of cigarette
They seek attention, poor useless answers
Profound depth and eloquence they bring
But time is over for the crucial nuances
Blankly they melt, like piles of snow in spring.
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