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Archive for October, 2008

Delusions of Grandeur

We struggle
Pushing hard
For results
Earnest work
Attempting to earn our way
We strive
We are diligent
We are urgent
We are determined
To become
Self-sufficient
Our success, they say
Is determined by our effort
Our failure, they judge
undermines our worth
And yet
Rain falls
On the just and the unjust
Storms destroy
Possessions of the wealthy and the poor
Ships sink at sea
Great ones and small ones alike
Our security
Our self-sufficiency
Our assured survival
Is but a (persistent, comforting) illusion
All of it – every moment
Of disaster
Of good fortune
Of peace
Of joy
Of sadness
Passes through Your Own Hand
We curse circumstances
You allow
We pretend we have some control
Our pride, masking our fear
Hiding our knowledge of our own inadequacy
Prevents us from looking
To the One Who set the Universe in motion
The One Who crafted every last detail
Who Knows All
Who Is All
Who invites our reverent reliance
Our relinquishment of our illusions
In the end, we recognize
You are working it all for our good
And the only real security
Or freedom
Or peace
Is trusting You

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Whining in Rhyme

I feel like I’ve got nothing to say
And lots of words pent up inside of me
I feel like I’ve got nothing to give
What talent I have flails aimlessly
I feel like I’m all emptied out
And yet, I feel something growing inside
I feel like I’m ready to give up
Still somehow I keep fighting, staying alive
I keep rushing forward then sliding again
I wish I could cut myself a little more slack
I feel ready for something to start anew
To release the old hangups that hold me back

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Light streams in
Through steel and glass
Illuminating humanity
Interspersed among
Voluminous wisdom
Silence broken by
Clicking technology
Soft laughter
Whispered conversation
Scattered about
Absorbing
Creating
Refining
Surrounded by
Works already refined

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A contest from Backpacking Dad
Caused poetry really quite bad
So much to consider
(and update on Twitter)
But maybe I’ve something to add

Remember the scene with the bike?
Long Duc Dong and the girl that he liked?
They are bouncing around
‘Fore he lands on the ground
A study in cross culture psych

The girl on the bike is Marlene
She’s famous for only that scene
And having big breasts
Not being suppressed
For fully clothed sex (fairly clean)

Marlene’s an improbable lover
But that Dong, he desired no other
I hope I’m like her
It will cause quite a stir
If a Chinaman makes me a mother

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October Morning

Sky like a pencil sketch
Empty of color
Puddles reflect lines of gray
Descending from clouds
Smothering sunlight
Rain keeping time against the window
Distorting
Obscuring
Muting colors
A mockery of Monet in
Army green and sandstone

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Louisville Haiku

Old houses creaking
Wind whispers under doorways
Wood yielding underfoot

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Before Waking

A knock on the door
Opens to a familiar face
Unsure, searching
For welcome
For forgiveness
From the hesitation
Behind the half-closed door
After an eternal moment
Two foreheads rest on
Opposite sides of a door post
Leaning in toward each other
Moving to touch
One step closer
Simultaneous deep breaths
Exhaling apprehension
Slowly inhaling possibility
Stepping around the door
A sandpaper cheek slides
Slowly against a smooth one
Dropping to a shoulder
Breathing in memory
Then pulls back
Eyes meet again
Unsure, still questioning
Answering, one pair of
Hands finds hips, the other shoulders
Lips succumb to gravitational pull
And one foot reaches to close the door

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