I bend to be formed, not torn or broken but tempered by heat, a fire so hot the white is all You see of me. I said change and grow and I’m bent so low this shape of me is melting brass forged by tools so strong I fear the breaking. But I’m bound to bend, be shaped, sheared sound, let this shine of me … Continue reading Hand Made {a #poem}
#whyisitcalled a hashtag? and not a number sign as in “#3”? (or n-o period 3?) For that matter, why is it a “pound sign”? (as in “Please enter your password, followed by the pound sign?” (my son did not weigh 7#’s 3 oz. it was lbs., thank you.) You’re calling it a hashtag for tweeters who twitter (or tweet? yes, tweet…….. but that’s a bird) … Continue reading #whyisitcalledahashtag {a #poem}
Pears thunk and plop on barren, yellow grass alone, uncarried. The tree bore fruit but there is no one to eat thereof. (is it still a tree?) Upraised branches, so much verdant waterspray towards the sky, still and soft against the blue– but no one to see. (is it still a tree?) Oaken limbs, worn with carrying children to and fro, pumping, playing jumping, but … Continue reading True Wood {a #poem}
Solomon Episcopal Retreat Center Louisiana December 2009. Used with permission. “The best kind of poem is an inventory.” G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 1908 Starvation Expectation Reception without reservation Fascination Captivation Revelation Saturation Restoration Habitation Continue reading Worship-an Inventory
W CROSS R D S Lamb. Perfect. Hung. Alone. Naked. For me. Abandoned. Blamed. Spit on. Mocked. Forsaken. For me. Loving. Spotless. Alone. For love. Blood poured out. For me. Broken. Crying. Praying. Dying. A garden beginning, A garden His ending. On a hill he hung for me. ~~~~~~~~~ J.L. Collins 2012 Continue reading Cross Words
If words were pictures, I’d see them there, A string of suspended steps sunk into the sky. Mine, a stairway— I said goodbye and went on… Climbing upward, upward. Yours—a thousand steps, but ground-level, flat; stretching forward in a solitary line. You said, “I almost died,” then put one foot in front of the other and continued to live, one painful step at a time. … Continue reading If Words Were Pictures {a poem}
Blue Plate Special–Good Today ONLY Get your own bread, Stop grabbing off your sister’s plate And eyeing your brothers’. I gave them just what they need— I’ll do the same for you. “What is it?” “Manna.” “What is it?” “Yes.” “but what IS it?” “You’ll just have to taste and see.” “So what’s good today?” you ask. We have items that are seasonal, depending on what’s ripe … Continue reading Manna Menu {a #poem}