NaPoWriMo - day three

good friday poem

only these words:

such beautiful scars.

*

that’s not enough, you say.

there must be more. tell me

about his suffering.

how his body was broken.

how everything beautiful

was marred. i refuse.

instead, let me tell you

a covenant was sealed

that day. that one day

i will kiss his nail-scarred hands,

those wounds forever

on display, both

reminder and promise.

his flesh transformed

and mantled with glory.

my inheritance.

If the Prophets Broke In by Nelly Sachs - NPM3

If the prophets broke in
through the doors of night,
the zodiac of demon gods
wound like a ghastly wreath of flowers
round the head -
rocking the secrets of the falling and rising
skies on their shoulders –

for those who long since fled in terror -

If the prophets broke in
through the doors of night,
the course of the stars scored in their palms
glowing golden –

for those long sunk in sleep –

If the prophets broke in
through the doors of night
tearing wounds with their words
into fields of habit,
a distant crop hauled home
for the laborer

who no longer waits at evening –

If the prophets broke in
through the doors of night
and sought an ear like a homeland –

Ear of mankind
overgrown with nettles,
would you hear?
If the voice of the prophets
blew
on flutes made of murdered children's bones
and exhaled airs burnt with
martyrs’ cries-
if they built a bridge of old men's dying
groans –

Ear of mankind,
occupied with small sounds,
would you hear?

If the prophets
rushed in with the storm-pinions of eternity
if they broke open your acoustic duct with the words:
Which of you wants to make war against a mystery
who wants to invent the star-death?

If the prophets stood up
in the night of mankind
like lovers who seek the heart of the beloved,
night of mankind
would you have a heart to offer?

Sachs, Nelly "If the Prophets Broke In" Burning Bright: An Anthology of Sacred Poetry. Hampl, Patricia, ed. New York: Ballantine Books, 1995. 105-6.

NaPoWriMo - day two

maundy thursday

so many feet need washing.

so many strangers walking the edges

of what is reasonable,

waiting. hands extended,

offering their emptiness.

here comes the King.

i have been standing here

with an open purse,

begging for answers

that i might purchase

a new life. i travel from home

to home, house to house.

i recite the prayers. once,

seven times, fourteen.

let me bow here. and here.

and again.

                    once more

you invite me to the table.

there is bread here. and wine.

we may become friends –

close enough for wounding,

our sides touching,

a measured silence, weighty

gestures, considerations.

come. join me at this table.

but first, this sacrament.

if it is. scrubbing our conscience

clean. let us sing together this song.

this is my commandment:

that you love one another.

Psalm of the Modern Psalm by Nicholas Samaras - NPM2

Lord, I want no cursing from the ancient psalms.
I don’t pray for any child to have to pay
a bad price for bad parents.

I don’t wish for any sins of the fathers
to be visited upon their generations. Let the innocent
bear only the reward of their innocence.

Instead, I petition only that all offenders
be reminded of their sins every hour.
Let the selfish be haunted by their ways.

Let their eye-sockets grow dark and hollow.
The absence of the Lord’s presence is a far worse
punishment than anything accomplished by smiting.

I don’t focus on a God of vengeance.
I don’t want revenge on my enemies—
no broken teeth, no gnashing of physical pain.

I wish the death of no one. I wish the harm of no one,
but that the Lord lead the wicked
only to repentance and a changed heart.

The gutter of their own lives is punishment alright.
But only let them realize this.
Let them inherit a living death called insight.

Samaras, Nicholas "Psalm of the Modern Psalm" American Psalm, World Psalm. Ashland: The Ashland Poetry Press, 2014. 51.

NaPoWriMo - day one

making strange

perhaps we might learn

to use some of the old words.

propitiation. ransom. redemption.

maybe we could rediscover

what they meant when they said

Lord of Hosts. The Lion & the Lamb.

Bread of Heaven.

we could make things strange.

repopulate our language with new figures.

pelican. peacock. unicorn.

let’s make all the old things new.

it is not too late.