A friend of mine, a man of God
Was wandering on retreat.
He had to go, but found it odd
Enough to have to tweet
And facebook out his circumstance
For all the world to see
What made him take a second glance
When on his way to pee.
The sign read “women” on the door,
But this convenient compromise
Left him unphased before
He had his urinal surprise.
The friend mentioned in the poem was Chris Padget. Check out his site.
My son was eating cornflakes
And I took a flake or two.
This random act of playful theft,
Led contemplation through
A chain of thoughts that circumvent
My normal cornflake thinking
My thought pattern might represent
A drunkard ‘midst his drinking.
My tongue curled inside my mouth
Scraped the caverns of my bones
Starting North and heading south
To flick for food in pearly stones.
Then pressed against the molar
In the back most leftest corner
Sweeping Closest to the solar
Where Christ remains adorner
The food bits flick on out
With Creator from a crater
To the front of my closed mouth
Was my Lord I’d saved for later.
Undoubtedly, there’s something in the air.
The scent of which was sent to twitch your nose
Old factories there have olfactory flair
So that must be the stench, you suppose.
Now let me reveal the truth of the deal,
The stink and why we live near it.
Once you know, there’s much more appeal
Since the smell is the Holy Spirit.
Of all the scents that God perused
For His person without body
This strange new smell leaves us confused
‘till wisdom make us oddly
Okay with the stink in the morning.
With understanding, we realize
His morning breath’s adorning
Our Steubenville’s sun rise.
My mind’s wandering too much
I blink slowly and squinch my eyes
The air is wet upon the touch
The pew feels humid, I realize
My mind is wandering again,
Did you have something to say?
I had things on my mind when
I stopped to talk today.
I imagine bread falling from the sky.
Oh Manna, that would be awesome.
Reaching out to raining rye
As angels simply toss ‘em
Out of the giant bread boxes up there.
What if it drizzled soda bread or Naan?
Maybe sticky buns would fill the air
As humidity, until the grain was gone.
The light of the moon’s on a crescent roll
That falls down with bagels and yet
I’ll venture out for a midnight stroll,
Dodging croutons and sliced baguette.
Every time that it’s graining outside
We’d see bread putting on a show.
But what if we solely relied
On flakes of bread falling like snow.
Weathered hands held a white circle of bread,
A papery wafery piece of this world,
But there through transubstantiation was instead
The flashpoint of eternity unfurled.
This form He chose is humble and plain,
Bringing me a moment’s circumspection.
How can this qualitatively contain
The suffering, death and resurrection?
My face is pressing a tasteless façade
Smudging up the glass I look through
My breath fogs up the lens of God
While finding which toppings I want to
Have placed on my ice cream, already chosen,
So I can truly enjoy this treat.
My father behind me knows all of the frozen
Combos, his knowledge is sweet.
This decision could be life changing
What if I choose the wrong sprinkle?
I imagine my choice rearranging
A space-time-continuum wrinkle.
My dad knows everything and so I ask
“Should I get chocolate, or rainbow?”
He looks at me, puzzled by the task
Of answering a question I should know.
I turn and face my sprinkles one more time
Rainbow sprinkles, or chocolate ones to flow
Off of a spoon onto the Ice cream I’m
Going to have, but right now, I don’t know.
I’d hate to have the wrong thing sprinkling
So I wonder what would dad want me to do.
Is it rainbows, or chocolate that will bring
Us closer as a family from his view?
One flavor or the other wouldn’t bother
Him or me, it doesn’t really matter
Chocolate on my mouth would look to father
About the same as rainbow sprinkled splatter
I asked my dad again for his solution,
Since I didn’t know exactly how I felt.
He desired me to seek a resolution
So the Ice cream I was gifted wouldn’t melt.
Sometimes we get caught in indecision,
We pray about something, but never really know
the level of correction that God’s vision
Has for us, our lives, and where we go.
We all know he’s a really smart guy since
He invented what inventors use
It’s not dumb to seek his guidance
In all those choices that we choose
But I seem to get stuck in the waiting
For answers he’s placed in my heart,
Overlooking my free will creating
The answers desires impart.
My windshield wipers smear bird poop across the window.
As if the Holy Spirit’s in the form of a Dove,
I look at this white brown and green rainbow
And start thinking ‘bout God’s covenant Love.
We want a movie with music and clean rays of light
Even though Jesus healed eyes with dirt and spit.
Although we don’t all get the gift of sight,
Don’t tell me that God doesn’t give a poop.
You’ll establish your family’s spirit and generosity,
Welcome others to your home and show them love
Open up your hearts, include those people we
Pass by in grocery lines, but don’t think of.
Establish what it means to pray in married life
Creating habits that will form a life of prayer
A unifying constant for a husband and his wife,
That will welcome God and show his love is there.
It’s not unlikely you’ll find children on the way
And you’ll show them what it really means to live.
To love each other and those caught up in today
You’ll show them what it really means to give.
The way you live your lives will be recorded
By your children’s memories that they recall.
The way you live your life will be reported
In nonverbal actions on display for all.
You hold a choice inside the palm of your hand.
It can be stuck there, nailed straight through,
Or more like a post-it you don’t understand
You could drop it and not have a clue.
You are a living example of this life that we get
From God who lets two lives become combined.
For your children, who you haven’t even met,
Normal is still yet to be defined
BonjourPoetry 