| Saturday, February 17, 2007 |
| Entering the Church |
These caverns deep and dark
filled with a twinkling light
spit me wide as with a fellers' axe.
A clean swoop and I lay upon
a wound of deep red blood bathed
in caressing waves of undulating candle light.
The heart removed and beating wildly
despite cool granite laid upon
soothing contrast to the warm glow
of shadows dancing a dark veiled joy.
Contented passion rings off earthen walls,
men in robes vibrate the savior
deep into ventricular pores, filling
the chasm as candle light and sound
slowly fills these caverns with warm
and languid fluid, easing bones and blood.
The sigh is strung on organ chords
as my head falls back of its own will,
eyes closed, and lay with him
beneath the throne as rich walls echo
wild fragrant peace with abandon
beating like puffs of incense on the alter. |
posted by ~KL~ @ 2:02 PM  |
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| Alter Offering (Romans 6) |
The summer night
I let it go; so slowly fade
as the mist that just missed
a heat relieving rain
and I long after it as
I long for those cool showers
Letting that part rot and wither
and die on the pedestal I placed it
like watching a wilting rose
slowly consumed by it's own thorns
until it resembles rusted barbed wire
a stripped bare truth
and when darkness overcomes
the shadows cast are regal
like the rest. The proud night
blending lack of color and color
until you long for those petals
forgetting the pain of the stalk.
Upon the morning there is sunshine
I wait for it here;
Holding my breath and damning the sky
for its lack of rain.
On the morrow I will be cleansed
but for now I cower just trying
to believe in the son;
In the hope. By my side
he waits comforting me not,
Letting me kill the killer,
letting me feel the pain,
the pain of damning the lack of rain.
He sits so silently staring
at my withered, rotting rose
clutched so dearly in fingers light.
Ripping off the last joyous petals
exposing harsh hardness underneath,
slowly turning he wreaths it
in peaceful anger, pressing on his head.
Turning to my dying form his
face streaked with blood filled tears:
"Watch and pray so that you will
not fall into temptation."
I look to the fading mist
and long for what is lost.
He looks to a nearby hill
and there three regal trees;
strong and bound and crossed
and thinks of there what might be gained.
Though his be large and mine be small
sit we here in Gethsemane
thinking about the cost. |
| posted by ~KL~ @ 1:37 PM |
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| A Death Well Met |
I am not afraid to speak of death
and more do I revel in a death well met.
Too I find for the masses
it is not similarly so
There is a fear in the eyes of those faced
When night turns dark
and brooding. Glassy sleepless orbs turn
distant as if searching afar
people that might understand
savage language of their soul.
The hour where shadows fade to dark
smiles and laughter wiped;
hammers, chisels and plows
exchanged for philosophy
The moment shared when a distant future
became suddenly clear, like the click
of an optometrist's prescriptor.
And I saw myself bound and naked
against a cedar in the wild
Being lashed for speaking a name
Them crying selfishness my glory
like a kaleidoscope changes
with a quick flick of wrist:
Blood and gore and desolation
My death raped by movies
in their reluctance to let go
what I have already given.
A peaceful Joy now dragged through
muddy streets lined by specialty shops
designer clothes and emerald jewels
clutched in cramped hands, eyes coveting more.
I feel stares and horror washing over
and dragging through the undertow
the Hope that I'd sought to share.
Here in desolate place death
Is destruction
our generation that passes living
to cling desperately to life;
grips tightly with talons
that rip through truth and beauty;
flashing florescent "VACANCY" over honor.
We, a people who know not valor;
clambering for the front of the line,
the best seat in the house,
finest food, biggest thrill.
Like temper tantrum children
closing ears to grandma's whisper
Integrity!
Death is life and I live freely
Grandma I will not forget
I will stand, I will revel
I will OBEY!
I will not exchange myself for life.
My beauty may be your fear
but keep your claws out of my living,
for I vow to meet death well.
Never to prostitute myself
for a few more breaths
of tepid
lifeless
air... |
| posted by ~KL~ @ 1:17 PM |
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| About Me |
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Name: ~KL~
Home: Ipswich, MA, United States
About Me: 1 Corinthians 1:26 - 2:5 "Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things - and the things that are not - to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God - that is, our righteousness, holiness, and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: "Let him who boasts boast in the Lord." When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eleoquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive owrds, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's power, so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power."
See my complete profile
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| Shoutbox |
"To know and to serve God, of course, is why we're here, a clear truth, that, like the nose on your face, is near at hand and easily discernible but can make you dizzy if you try to focus on it hard. But a little faith will see you through. What else will do except faith in such a cynical, corrupt time? When the country goes temporarily to the dogs, cats must learn to be circumspect, walk on fences, sleep in trees, and have faith that all this woofing is not the last word. What is the last word, then? Gentleness is everywhere in daily life, a sign that faith rules through ordinary things: through cooking and small talk, through storytelling, making love, fishing, tending animals and sweet corn and flowers, through sports, music and books, raising kids - all the places where the gravy soaks in and grace shines through." -Garrison Keillor |
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