Isaiah 53

He has borne our griefs
Borne our griefs and carried our sorrows
We esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God
Smitten by God and afflicted

All we like sheep have gone astray
We have turned, every one to his own way

He was wounded for our sins
He was crushed, He was beaten
He made payment for our peace
And by His stripes we are all healed

For His Father was pleased, He has put Him to grief
When You sacrifice His soul, He will see His seed

kindness

be kind, be kind to the wayfarers, the wanderers
be kind, be kind to the strangers, the sojurners
be kind, be kind to the travelers on their way
they may be homeless, they may be hungry
they may be lost, they may be lonely
they may be world-weary just as you.

Introvert

She looked for closed-in places
She wanted small and empty spaces
To shut out interference of voices, noises, lies
To isolate reality
Or to isolate herself? She didn't know
Which she sought, or if it even mattered
She didn't like relief, colloquialisms, baby food
They confused her and put her in pain
They hurt her and made her afraid
She needed definition, acuteness
She thought maybe she could find it
If only she could get really alone
So she went around and around, smaller and smaller
Folding in further to greater and greater emptiness
Maybe people would call her an introvert
But she was past caring what they called things now.

a question

were i fresh and healthful
fair and beautiful -
would you love me then?
or just use me a little longer
before throwing me away?

Translation: Sergey Chudakov: Untitled

When they shout,
"Man overboard!"
The ocean ship, huge as a house
Suddenly stops,
And the man
is fished out with ropes.
But when
the soul of a man is overboard,
When he is suffocating
from horror
and despair,
Then even his own house
Doesn't stop
but sails on.

Translation: Anna Ahmatova: All Is Taken

All is taken, both strength and love.
In the disgraced city, the discarded body
Is unglad of the sun. I feel my blood
Within me already altogether chilled.

I do not recognize the merry Muses;
They stare and utter not a word,
Only bow their darkly wreathed heads
Exhausted upon my breast.

And only conscience, daily more terribly
Rages, demanding vast tribute.
I used to hide my face and answer her . . .
But I have now no more tears, no more excuses.

How Brave Thou Art

The brave may not live forever, but the cautious never live at all.
That's what they told me.
I think I would like to live for a little while,
But I"m not brave when You're not here.
I would like to throw open my heart and love for as long as I could,
Never mind that it wouldn't be too long,
Never mind when it hurt me,
Never mind when it killed me,
But I'm too afraid when You're not with me.

So instead I lie on my side with one eye pressed into the dirt
And sleep sleep sleep like the regretful dead,
And when I get up it's to grab the nearest stick
And start smashing everything around me.

I am a killer.
I am a destroyer.
What I see, I hate.
What I touch, I break.
I broke my life, so stay away.
Run, run, run, dear child.
I'll break yours too if you let me near enough.

I don't really look for sticks when I get up; I use anything handy:
Catch up the nearest object and start swinging with my eyes shut,
Only hearing the splintering and shattering around my ears.

Some nights when I'm lying like this with my cheek to the ground
Quiet like a weaned child, so quietly screaming my brains out,
Knowing I can't live and knowing I won't die,
I like to imagine that You'll show up,
One unexpected night,
Break me,
Remake me,
Take me far away from all I've ever been.

It's a lot to imagine,
But I think You're braver than I am now.
I remember one night You were alone,
Hanging on a hill with Your wrists bleeding open
So I wouldn't have to be.
You were brave enough to be alone then.
So I like to think You're brave enough to face me now.

The Sushi Song

Sushi
What a colorful food
I could eat it all day
When I eat sushi
I smell the cherries on blossoming trees
When I eat sushi
I hear the old songs of musical reeds
When I eat sushi
I hear the call of mountainous lands
When I eat sushi
I feel the hot steam of black crystal sands
When I eat sushi
I feel the surf of deep turquoise seas
When I eat sushi
I see golden skies setting over my dreams
When I eat sushi
I can smell the snowy peaks
Where the cherries whisper pink
To the shadows of the wings
Of the swans that come to sing
Over the rainbow on the shore
That I've seen somewhere before
Think it's turning into four
Could I have a little more
Sushi
Cause when I eat sushi
What a colorful food
I can almost taste Japan

postscript:
i've never tried sushi.
i've never even wanted to go to japan . . .

Elegy (Not)

You categorize your supper
I pass you rolls, orange marmalade
You tell us the related jokes
I pass you canned fruit, gravy
(You remark we act as if you were old and feeble)

I never saw what a big man you are
I never saw how sweet your smile, how gray your hair
I never wondered with such sadness how many times more I have
When you leave, part of me will always be lonely
(And how can I come to this house without you here?)

I don't want to go play outside
I don't want to watch a movie
Let me sit and watch the lines of your face
Let me listen to your dry comments, your chuckle
(They come a little more slowly than before)

I was never so afraid to see anyone sleeping
I was never so glad to hear anyone coughing phlegm from lungs
I was never so relieved to see anyone hobble into the study
Take the old rocker and listen to the day's stock prices
(Wrapped in a bathrobe, blue and red plaid)

Dylan Thomas said it best but
I do not want to speak his elegy for you

Sorry

Kitchen table, hot chili
Goes down willingly enough
But in the stomach
Churns, something revolts
Remembering red-rimmed eyes
Kind kitchen, warm chili
Untasted by sick old men
In a minute maybe
Revulsion will overcome
Habit and hunger both
And I'll vomit it all back up
Hearing in my retching
Old men coughing to breathe

You coughed small like a baby
Nodding forward in the opposite seat
Face wrinkling painfully
I think you meant it as a smile back
The bus rumbling on
The people taking and leaving
Looking at me for my smile
I think they didn't look at you

What could I have said to you
On bus #26, crowded by tired eyes?
Are you feeling all right?
Not a nurse.
Do you want some water?
Don't have any.
I watched you go your way
Relieved it was not mine
And sorry too

Black bench, bus stop
Suddenly you were approaching
Face wrinkling painfully as you came
- So, we meet again (you said shyly)
I know, I know, a second chance for me
- Lovely day, no rain (I said friendly)
Glad relief flooding us both
What does it profit?
You offered me your last cigarette
I wished for once I smoked so
I could have taken your charity
Felt your happiness again

You lit up and sat smoking
Glancing uneasily aside
First I tried not to breathe
Then I breathed deeply
Inhaling the scent of your sickness
Between short drags you sat
Upright, very still
One hand to your chest
Breathing shallow
Forehead frightened and concentrated

What could I have said to you
Waiting for bus #36, just you and me?
Are you feeling all right?
Not a nurse.
Do you want some water?
Don't have any.
(I should have walked over to the fast food stop
Brought you back a cup of cold water in His Name)
Can I give you my four dollars?
Owe them to Fig.
How long you been smoking?
Insinuating.
Do you know God?
Awkward.
#37 goes right past CC La Habra. You go to church much?
Random.
Where you headed?
Oh . . .
What if he returns the question?
What if he stalks me?
What if he doesn't?
(Which is worse)
And I am forced to forfeit one more fear
Robbed of one more excuse not to talk to strangers
Obliged to face my own status as a stranger here
What then?

We watched cars come and go
We watched a cop writing a ticket
You flicked your cigarette unhappily into the street
We waited for traffic to run it over
It didn't
The second you stood to leave
Maybe the second before
My heart screamed sorry
Begged you silently to
Stay, please stay
Please go away; let me forget about you
Don't leave me alone; let me talk to you
(But who gives third chances here?)

Did you leave behind on purpose
The empty carton, lighter?
- You might want it later (I said eagerly)
Your face wrinkling again, this time laughing
But fooling neither of us
As you turned away, I seemed to see
As always, an angel face . . .
I watched your gray coat recede
Down the sidewalk, across the street, to the next bench
Carrying a trash bag full of folded jeans
Past fast food stops, out of memory, under the bridge
Where you go my mind wanders with you

Of the four bus stops at this intersection, why mine?
Aren't they all the same to someone going nowhere?
Of the thirty people on this bus, why me?
What have I done to deserve this grace?
Did you know the little girl in black
Would not be able to get you out of her mind?

Does it help to say I'm sorry?
If so, then I'm sorry you're old and sick
And yet poor and homeless
Does it help to say I'm sorry?
If so, then I'm sorry I smiled at you
And yet didn't speak
Does it help to say I'm sorry?
If so, then I'm sorry I went above the call of duty
And yet fell short of the call of God
Is that better?

Don't wash your hair tonight
Don't wash your hair tomorrow morning
Let the cigarette smoke linger there
Remember, remember
Don't change your clothes when you get home
Don't change your clothes for tonight
Let the cigarette smoke stale in your sweatshirt
Remember, remember

bewilderment

i am perplexed by the slick images of disaster -

earthquake - tsunami - nuclear meltdown -

i am estranged from the mountain of freight containers,

hundreds piled up like colorful building blocks and

i cannot sympathize with the elderly couple

stumbling over the sticks of their house,

wading through the ruins of their street,

sterilized by captions, font size 12

times new roman, just what the editor ordered

the news flash from japan

remote, catastrophic, transmitted

is troublesome to my soul 

i do not understand the colorful overhead menu

the rows of soda pop dispensers -

coke - diet coke - fanta - dr pepper - sprite - raspberry ice tea -

i am unfamiliar with the sweating cardboard cup,

carton of floppy french fries and

i cannot identify with the half-eaten cheeseburger,

partially chewed layers of processed animal products,

sticky bread, limp vegetable, rancid slime of condiments,

discarded on greasy paper gradually uncrumpling

the three-dollar meal deal

cheese or no cheese, plus or minus thirty cents

is troublesome to my soul

Date Night

Death came for me yesterday
Maybe on Tuesday, maybe the day before
I said, "Excuse me, but I am very busy
I have some prior engagements
From which I cannot possibly extricate myself."

All the people I ever read about
Tried to put off Death rudely
Waving sharp objects and screaming apologies
No one ever tried speaking politely to Death
I spoke politely, with believable reluctance
And he went away.

But he'll come for me again
Maybe next Tuesday, maybe the day after
"Excuse me, but I am very busy
I have some prior engagements
From which I cannot possibly extricate myself."

That's what I'll say, politely
And he'll incline his head, courteously, ever a gentleman
With the deference of those whose friends
Are suddenly swept up into the social world
They come calling at the door, hoping for old times
And are turned away

But he'll be back
Maybe in a year, maybe the next day
Whenever his desire overcomes his tact
I'll know what to say; I've said it before
Perfected the preoccupied tones
"Excuse me - "

"No more excuses," he'll cut me off
His voice rather different from what I expect
A little girl's voice, or maybe just a snake's
"Yours have run out. Anyway
Were you ever engaged
Which I highly doubt (Check your calendar)
No engagement could possibly be as pressing
As our little affair (Life never is)
We have a date tonight
I'll have you NOW."

In my last defense will I grasp for sharp objects
And find myself brandishing the old umbrella?
Will I scream and scream and scream and scream
(Scream in the countryside: the helplessness of being
unheard and innocent
Scream in the city: the betrayal of being
heard and ignored)?
Anyway, Death will have come for me
And innocent or merely insignificant
helpless or betrayed
I'll have to go. 

Way Out

Were there a way of dying more beautiful
Than the way I've written my history with living
I swear I would have died that way a long time ago
And taken you with me, my love
Which I attempted in the nightmare I once dreamed

Sometimes there's no beautiful way for the taking
Though He has made everything beautiful in its time
In case its time ever becomes mine
And I find the beautiful way to go
I swear I'll let you know so you can come too
No matter how far out we are by then
No matter how many vacant oceans have spread between our brains
And the elusive beautiful we call by faith reality

We have always walked by faith here, never by sight
So music has always been a sacrament
That has always taken bloodshed and breaking
To express our faith in what we've never seen
But were born knowing was true
Eternity tattooed into our hearts
There under all the uniforms we have to wear
There behind all the masks we try to fool ourselves with in the mirror

In case I discover what these things are for called hands and feet
And why my heart has useless wings inside
In case I open a door some day and step into free
Be here, be near me, don't be far
Because I don't want to hang around here too long, waiting, strangulating

I can't imagine what it would feel like to breathe
In case we ever get some oxygen in here
I don't want to be the only one left to smell it
In case beautiful ever falls down on us like snow
Or reality smashes into this shadowland like fireworks
I want you to see it too

not here

if you think you see me, think again.
if you see me here, look somewhere else.
you'll see me there, too.
only something heavy could hold me in one place at a time.
i don't know of anything so huge.
i wouldn't like it anyway.

waiting

now i work faster
write more neatly
finish things with a flourish
pay closer attention
see people better
see a lot of things better
but care a lot less
hardly at all
all i'm thinking about anymore is You

i waited for You
maybe last night
maybe the night before
maybe this morning
(the importance of remembering when is
zero because every time i think
i'm waiting for You)

wind love

the wind carries snow like a mother

she lays it down to sleep softly in streets

its innocence slumbering over cities

covering tracks, trash, filth, histories: like love

it melts, it soils, she covers it again.

 

the problem of subcreation following the fall

i should be speaking silver
(i should be breathing gold)
but every time i reach into my mouth
the fist i bring out clenches only
:vomit

they make a mockery of subcreation
(and my digestive tract)
by feeding me and feeding me
but blocking off my arteries, intestines
:vomit

so every time i reach down my throat
(into the soul inside)
there's nothing better to come up with
than what i'm throwing up now
:vomit

the stars sing together
(it is written)
my blood hears music ringing in my brains
but when i open my own mouth
i just keep throwing up and throwing up

they teach me how to lock the door
(for when i have to hide)
they teach me how to inhale, exhale slowly
regulate the retching but i know it's still just
:vomit

heal me, cleanse me
only You can be
treasure in this broken vessel
for Christ's sake amen
:shine