Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

Palm Sunday

April 5, 2020

I always liked this one best,

where Jesus rode into a village,

Riding on a donkey

to Jerusalem,

His entrance made in humbleness,

not as a King before His God,

people paved His way,

made a path with palms of trees,

calling “LORD!”, in their excitement

as He rode up to their Temple.

— And once He did arrive,

— He stormed into their palace,

overturned the many tables

of robbers and thieves.

— I loved going to church on this day,

holding a palm in my own hands,

remembering His courage,

in the face of death.

— I loved this one more than Easter,

which never made sense to me,

why suddenly His physical body

would return,

and after showing Himself again,

He rose into the sky?

as if heaven were a place among the clouds?

Without the resurrection,

He is still the Son of God,

His proof is in His words

and how He changes peoples’ lives,

Love thy neighbor as thyself,

Forgive all those who harm you,

Have purity in your dealings,

Be humble before your God.

cfblack, 04-05-2020

Matthew 21 As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, say that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away.”

This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:

“Say to Daughter Zion,
    ‘See, your king comes to you,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
    and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’”[a]

The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,

“Hosanna[b] to the Son of David!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”[c]

“Hosanna[d] in the highest heaven!”

10 When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?”

11 The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”

12 Jesus entered the temple courts and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. 13 “It is written,” he said to them, “‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’[e] but you are making it ‘a den of robbers.’[f]

April 3, 2020

This virus

causes untold damage

to our psyches,

as our fears

become reality

and this feels like it could last forever.

It won’t,

we will survive,

but for untold years after,

we will be afraid.

It will reappear

in our dreams

as a nightmare.

cfblack 04-03-2020

 

March 29, 2020

For the first time I realize,

I could die.

Many my age have already gone,

People with money and those without,

People with issues and some with health,

This one is vicious,

It’s not the flu,

it leaves you gasping for breath.

You die alone

no visitors,

or they will be exposed.

This is no joke

it’s very real

and could hit anyone,

so tonight, I see it could be me,

my daughter, or my son,

All we can do is wash our hands,

Stay away from everyone.

cfblack, 3-26-2020

 

 

Shelter-in-place

March 26, 2020
At night, is when I think of you,
is when I think of the world,
wonder who is sick,
who is recovering,
which of my loved ones is not feeling well?
Terrified, I can hardly sleep,
still feeling i’m in a nightmare.
Young people come to play basketball
daring the virus to find them too,
Terrified, I wonder what they will do
if their nephew, niece, or child contracts,
What if the sickness turns to children,
what will they do then,
Dear God, help the doctors
who can’t stay home,
help nurses with their lives at risk,
Help us to learn
We must shelter in place,
If only a month or two,
6 months or a year!
until this passes!
until the trajectory levels flat!
Please God, hold us by Thy hand,
help us to better understand,
We must take care of one another
as if we are family,
I’ll do it for you,
You do it for me,
For children yet unborn,
I’ll do it for you,
You do it for me,
until this thing is GONE.
      cfblack, 3-26-20

new reality

March 18, 2020

We have entered

a new reality,

walked into some sci-fi movie

or an old episode of

the Twilight zone,

Is this for real?

Am I dreaming?

Can I wake up now?

Rewind, rewind.

Children can’t play with their friends,

they sit at home and cry,

schools closed,

libraries shut their doors,

no gatherings of more than 10.

We’re in a reality TV show

it’s called, “Who can do this— and not go crazy??”

“YOU WIN the million dollars!”

Because most of us

are about to go nuts.

No NFL, no NBA, no family weddings, parties,

arts events, play dates, restaurants, trips to the ZOO……

ALL cancelled. Until further notice.

We don’t know when the hell this will end.

We pray that children stay unaffected,

we worry over loved ones and friends,

we beg for a vaccine

to get out of quarantine.

But it’s not like we couldn’t see this coming,

it’s not like we weren’t warned,

by documentaries on PBS!

We just didn’t take it seriously.

God help us to find our humanity,

to live as one people on this Earth,

We wonder when this will ever end

so we can begin our lives again,

Yet, this is only the beginning.

Things have to change.

cfblack    03-18-2020

Quarantine

March 13, 2020

Sore throat burning fire

headaches, cough and runny nose,

quarantined to home.

 

At my daughter’s house,

grandkids, green tea, games of Yahtzee,

quarantine delight.

 

morning haiku

March 9, 2020

Even if they’re tired,
Birds rise to their alarm clock
singing to the Sun.

an overnight at grandma’s

January 15, 2020

I have many memories of staying overnight in my Dutch grandparents’ house & going to the Dutch Reformed church w/ them Sunday morning. Occasionally they would take either my sister or me, one at a time, for an “overnight”. This will be revised, but it captures it:

Sleeping in bed with my Dutch Grandma,

I lay awake, hearing her breathe,

Grandpa in his bed, one room away,

did they dream of each other at night?

Feeling special, the only one,

got up to the morning sun,

Grandpa’s coffee on the stove,

it perked in a silver pot,

a clear glass piece was on the top,

so we could watch it perk,

A saucer was his coffee cup,

he lifted it to his lips.

I went to church with the two of them,

sat in the middle and didn’t move,

We spoke in whispers in this church,

while the organ played,

I reached for the fan with Jesus’ face

smiling back at me,

it was hot and sticky

in this place,

There was no central air.

I sat in my slip, and pretty dress,

white gloves upon my hands,

Grandma’s immigrant face looked down at me,

a smile and a wink were on her face,

and afterwards, proudly showed me off

to all her women friends.

         cfblack, 01-15-2020

 

 

 

He walked the banks of rivers

January 7, 2020

This poem is about the Founder of the Baha’i Faith, titled “Baha’u’llah” which means “Glory of God”, as He was banished for a time, to Baghdad. He wrote words for the world to come together as one, recognizing ourselves as one humanity, under one God, Who has spoken to us through various Messengers over our time on earth. Today is the time we need to learn to live as one people on this planet. He said we can do it easily and peacefully, or it will come after much suffering and devastation. Looks like we have chosen the latter. But our eventual unity is inevitable. It’s the only way we will survive. 

He walked the banks of rivers

writing words for the world,

walked along the Euphrates

and Tigris,

a prisoner of the Ottomans,

banished from His home,

His Words were flowers

to bring peace to all mankind,

For a time, He consorted

with the Sufis and the mystics,

He wrote the Seven Valleys

in Baghdad,

He summoned Kings and Rulers

to reduce their armaments,

to compose their differences,

bring justice to all,

— but the leaders turned away,

we now see the result

of fresh wars being waged

where He stood,

and I cannot help but wonder

if fresh blood is being spilled

on the banks of the rivers

where He strolled,

Oh Baghdad, are you not tired

of the killing on your soil?

Can you not rise up and stop them,

bring peace to the world?

For there is no turning back,

There is no other way

but to love all the world

as one,

We are “fruits of one tree,”

“flowers of one garden,”

We must learn to live

as one family.

cfblack  01-07-2020

what is happening

January 5, 2020

I see young faces

in Army gear

wearing cameflouge, helmets, backpacks, guns,

standing in lines to get on planes,

confused, and wondering why,

and when will we come home again?

and why are we going there?

because of leaders we cannot escape,

whose mouths now drip with blood.

Forgive them, Father, for they know not how

to make a peaceful world,

Instead, they send out younger men

to self-made danger zones.

The world is weary of their ways,

and mothers tired of giving sons

to wars brought on by power-hungry,

anger-laden fools.

Come home, my dears,

refuse to walk this path to living hell,

Come home and build a better world

of mutual respect and goodwill.

cfblack  01-04-2020

 

 

(This needs work.)