Pages

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

2014 Blogging Co-Champion :D



Thanks for reading these posts here
I'm done for now so raise a cheer
As we go our separate ways
I wish you happy holidays
And when Advent comes again
I hope to see you all here then
Of course you're welcome any time
So check here frequently for rhyme
If you'd like a fuller look
You should check out my Facebook:


Day 40: Let Us Worship Christ



There was a universe wrapped in dark
In silence and waiting for the "Hark!"
Planets moons and stars inside it spun
All processing around a rising sun
Within this whirling assembly
Was a whole world made for you and me

And dark and still, and still and dark
Waiting for "Let it be" and "Hark!"

There was a world wrapped in dark
In silence and waiting for the "Hark!"
The nations had sent their wisest men
To follow the stars to the where and when
To a little people chosen by God
Little lost lambs needing a shepherd's rod

And dark and still, and still and dark
Waiting for "Let it be" and "Hark!"

There was a nation wrapped in dark
In silence and waiting for the "Hark!"
And a tiny town where lambs were schooled
And once upon a time kings there ruled
Back to her her children were sent
And in the darkness back they went

And dark and still, and still and dark
Waiting for "Let it be" and "Hark!"

There was a village wrapped in dark
In silence and waiting for the "Hark!"
But in her inns there was no more room
For a woman with child in her womb
Instead they found a stone-dark cave
Like one that one day would be a grave

And dark and still, and still and dark
Waiting for "Let it be" and "Hark!"

There was a woman wrapped in dark
In silence and waiting for the "Hark!"
Nine months before she said "Let it be
Just as the angel has said to me"
And in the darkest place on earth
To a little baby she gave birth

And dark and still, and still and dark
Waiting for "Let it be" and "Hark!"

There was a universe wrapped in dark
In silence and waiting for the "Hark!"
At last it came with joy so bright
Never again will there be night
And all will come to worship there
There's room for all and still to spare

And light and joy, and joy and light
Came when the "Hark!" rang out that night



Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Day 39: Pot Pie, Stew, or Haggis



Pot pie should be a microcosm of the order of the universe.
An encrusted mixture of meat and vegetables in a stew,
And baked until a golden-brown, at least on the top edges,
It contains all of the elements to make and sustain life.

It gets flipped over quickly on the plate bottoms up face down,
A position we take all too infrequently but should emulate,
Carefully uncovered to reveal the less cooked softer skin,
Even more secret than the fillings that it keeps enclosed.

Everything should be eaten decently and in order, bottom down,
Cutting away the gooey flesh from the golden brown crimp,
Lifting it off and scooping the innards away separately,
No co-mingling or confusion, a perfect trinity of pot pieness.

The cup-shaped bottom crust consumed intinctured by good gravy,
Then the flesh and blood and fiber, leaving only the golden crown,
Eaten center-out like the birth and death of the universe,
Culminating in a sublime union and communion of person and pie.




Monday, December 22, 2014

Day 38: Hot Chocolate



Blobs of white floating on top
And globs of brown below
All held in a single hand
By someone we both know

It could be the universe
Or it could be the world
But I mean this hot cocoa
'Round which my hand is curled



Sunday, December 21, 2014

Day 37: Vegetables



Eat your veggies so you'll grow
Eat your veggies so you'll go
Eat your veggies so you'll shrink
Eat them so that you can think

You can cook them up with meat
You can cook them up with wheat
You can cook them by themselves
You can eat them off the shelves

We should all veg out sometimes
Read some books and make some rhymes
Take a semicolon rest
And get up refreshed and blessed



Saturday, December 20, 2014

Day 36: Work



We're told it's what we have to do
We're told that it does us no good
If we do it we're okay
If not we should get no food

We must do it on our our own
Or there's none for us to do
Or else we need a little help
A partnership twixt me and you

We're told when done right it is fun
But if it is we've done it wrong
The time just flies on either way
But seems to always take so long

Just do it like it must be done
And you will find it's always blessed
When your life of work is over
Your job will be eternal rest



Friday, December 19, 2014

Day 35: Handmade Gift



Paper and crayons, scissors and string
Cardboard and rocks, most anything
Can be turned into a present
And the thought it will represent

Things you can't see are most of it
The main structure in which all fit
A care package wrapped up in time
A Christmas gift with price sublime

A present that has been hand-picked
Shouldn't be a cause for conflict
For if it is the thought you count
You can't calculate the amount




Thursday, December 18, 2014

Day 34: Chocolate



My soul is a chocolate bean
So bitter when it's on its own
The pulp is sweet but seldom used
And is ultimately discarded
The only way to be useful
Is to be broken wide open
And dried and roasted in the sun
Ground to a fine powder dust
And mixed into a greater whole
Poured out and then formed
And sent forth for consumption
So much better when it's gone
My soul is a chocolate bean




Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Day 33: The Grave



The biggest impression I'll ever make on this earth
Is a depression, and even that will quickly disappear
As I become what's eating me and a calcium deposit

Millions of microscopic visitors will like my site
And I will leave more behind wordlessly than written
An epic poem in two-hundred and six white lines

All my works and words will be gathered together
Like so many sticks for an eternal conflagration
If you visit my gravesite you'll see all that's left of me


Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Day 32: Safety



I went to church, I went to temple
I went and did transcendental meditation
I prayed the stations of the cross
And I spoke in glossolalia
So maybe ya know
Wherever good there is to go
I'll go

Cause there's safety
In numbers
And better safe than sorry's what I say
Because there's safety
In numbers
So if they might be there I'll go and pray

I follow Driscoll and follow Chopra
I follow you and hope ya know where you're going
There's no way of knowing what is true
So I'll believe that too in case
So maybe ya know
Wherever good there is to go
I'll go

Cause there's safety
In numbers
And better safe than sorry's what I think
Because there's safety
In numbers
So if they serve the kool-aid I will drink

There's a broadway everyone's on
Surely we can't all be wrong and Hades-bound
If someone has found the only way
I would take that path today with you
So maybe ya know
Wherever good there is to go
I'll go

Cause there's safety
In numbers
And better safe than sorry's what I do
Because there's safety
In numbers
So if there's two or three I'm there with you

Because there's safety
In numbers
And I like the odds of three in one
Because there's safety
In numbers
One God one Lord one faith one baptism

Monday, December 15, 2014

Day 31: Glog, Grog or Wassail



Ahoy, ahoy
Tidings of great joy
Bedeck the boat from stem to stern
And every hand and voice employ
The new-born Daystar to discern
Tidings of great joy
Ahoy, ahoy

About, about
All ye faithful come
Smooth out the waves and shoot the sun
Squeeze the lime, water the rum
Sober and well we all must run
All ye faithful come
About, about

Aloft, Aloft
The sky's a choir loft
The rigging hums with angel wings
On their breezes swift we waft
To worship with shepherds and kings
They sky's a choir loft
Aloft, aloft

Alee, Alee
Safe ashore in Galilee
Then down to Bethlehem we come
No lambs or frankincense have we
We give our rates of watered rum
Safe ashore in Galilee
Alee, Alee

Avast, avast
Leave the sea at last
Never catch a fish no more
There are new nets that we will cast
To draw men to the Heav'nly shore
Leave the sea at last
Avast, avast

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Day 30: Ancestors



My only Hibernian is the oh apostrophe
With all the French and German in the makeup of me
The Greatest Generation was pretty much our first
It's my forebears rather than kids who are dispersed
My mother's mother's parents fled the Second World War
Her father used some Yiddish whenever he swore
But where he learned it from is anybody's guess
Since the family line drawings are a total mess
My father's mother was Irish too to some degree
Plus French-Canadian Indian that joined the tree
And that's where the genealogist stopped short
Where other races go she wasn't a good sport
My father's father was Irish-Canadian too
Born in the seaway islands named Long Sault
He fought for the US as a soldier in the war
And became a citizen once back on our shore
From my father's side there's not so much I learned
Maybe a work ethic as far as that's concerned
It's my mother's side that looked to God above
And both are so important when push comes to shove

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Day 29: Island



What if there were no incidents, but only
Coincidence?
No event is an island, and islands are always in
Archipelagos.
Would we still give them names, make them
Memorable
But not talk about them, like a birth and death
Collision,
Like waves forced to attack time-beaten rocks and
Retreat
Leaving something you want between your toes, not
In your navel.

What if there were no individuals, but only
Indivisibles?
Every man is an island of a singular duality of
Singularity,
A plot cartographed in an archipelago of
Patronymics,
Proclaiming its own presence on pin-point
Obelisk,
Forced through a hard place into a rock of
Powderizing
Leaving something in your navel that requires
Your complete focus.

What if there was no incomprehensible God, but only
Immanuel?
Every man an island caught within the Bermuda Love
Triangle,
Bodies of land untied in one common cup of an
Archipelago,
A litany of names that make up a single name
Overarching,
Etched on the rock that falls and breaks apart
Everyone,
And builds them into a dwelling for God on a
Firm foundation.

Friday, December 12, 2014

Day 28: Kitchen Table



It was white with red lines and silver loops
My Great-Grandmother's kitchen table
I played under it when I was little
And it was still her table in her kitchen
And she was white with red and silver
We'd play Crazy 8's and Pachisi on top
Until only the table was left to us

It went with us from house to house
My Great-Grandmother's kitchen table
As our kitchen table where we ate
And we learned and worked and baked
Christmas cookies white red and silver
We'd play Crazy 8's and Pachisi on top
And the table was family to us

It fell off the back of a truck and broke
My Great-Grandmother's kitchen table
When my parents broke and split
And I was able to repair the table
That was still white and red and silver
We'd play Crazy 8's and Pachisi on top
Since it joined our family for a while

It's now back with my mother, her grand-daughter
My Great-Grandmother's kitchen table
And my mother is the age her Grandma was
When I used to play underneath it
We're all white with red lines and silver loops
We play Crazy 8's and Pachisi on top
Until only the table is left of us

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Day 27: Wool



Wool makes me feel so cozy and warm
That's why I pull it over my eyes
I always wear my wool in public
I can't go out without my disguise

My free time I spend wool-gathering
And finding new ways to shear the sheep
The world's my mammoth woolly farm
And I count my sheep as I fall asleep

I felt the knots on my woolly prayer rope
Like a wandering lamb my prayers I bleat
The shepherd carries me upon his back
And keeps me safely between his feet

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Day 26: Rhythm



There is a something missing
We can no longer hear the tick of our watches
The clocks in the hall, the heart in our chests
The beat that makes us not late

We still tend to have a tic
It's a nervous one that reminds us regularly
That everyone else is living their own lives
To the beat of their own drum

But the sky wheels keep turning
Through ordinary and extraordinary time
In with a shout and out with the tolling bell
The pulse of eternity between

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Day 25: Swimming



Just keep swimming
That is what the little fish said to do
And she should know since she's been to school
But all I want to do is to drown in you

Just keep swimming
Don't ever quit while you think you're ahead
A moment of quitting and you might be dead
But I'd go belly up in your daisy bed

Just keep swimming
Swim against the current if you want to live
Two shakes of your tail's all you have to give
But if I cannot float I hope you'll forgive

Just keep swimming
Even if your ocean is a goldfish bowl
And your boundaries are out of your control
But I'll wait right here and you'll save my soul

Just keep swimming
Until you're caught up in that great sky net
And the Angler in the Sky wipes away the wet
But canned all up with you I would like to get

Monday, December 8, 2014

Day 24: Light



A year has passed, twelve verses in quatroseptimanae,
None with an equal syllable count or meter or rhyme,
Yet pure poetry nevertheless, and by THE Poet Laureate.
All things are words derived from one root Word.

Like everything else, my poetry is derivative:
Only reformation, not creation, or even recreation.
Utilizing God-made materials I make a moon;
It has no light or life until the Sun shines off it.
Some moons bring love or guidance or mystery;
Every lunar cycle makes men lunatics.

Dashing down the lunar light lines digitally,
Agonizing over the right word, the write word, the rite word
Vainly trying to make my own blazing ball of gas
Into something other than a flatulent blue-flame.
Sometimes you just have to moon the world.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Day 23: Blogger's Choice



Fall colors bloom in wizening trees
Crackling carpets the ground
There is no more beautiful death
Than Autumn to be found

Children jump in the sloughed-off skin
Skeletons standing bare
Wave their limbs in the winter wind
And watch them playing there

The only one living, the evergreen
Catches no-one's eye
Until it's time to cut him down
Christmas is drawing nigh

Life grows best in a well-died death
That feeds the life to come
Innocently play out in the Fall
And bring a good death home

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Day 22: St Nicholas and the Sea



St Nicholas sailed upon the land
Travelling where the Lord had trod
Becoming holy upon his walk
St Nicholas gives us the Son of God

St Nicholas sailed upon the sea
Where the Lord had walked to calm the waves
Rebuking the storm as Jesus did
St Nicholas shows us a Lord who saves

St Nicolas sails through the skies
Where Jesus returned to Heaven's height
Celebrating with us the Savior's birth
St Nicholas brings us a silent night

Friday, December 5, 2014

Day 21: Soil



The bell tolls
The earth's epidermis is picked loose
Like a mite removes outlived skin cells
Scaly around the newly opened pore
And plants new life down inside
To arise at the appointed hour

The silence haunts
Soundless ears are full of busy earwigs
Earthworms are returning dust to the earth
A handful of that original lump of clay
And plants push from freshly turned soil
In the daisy-chain of life

The trumpet sounds
The earth springs up toward Heaven
One reassembled shovelful at a time
Flung to the sky with a cry of an army
And the good soil bears fruit an hundredfold
To lie fallow forevermore