One Hundred Apple Pies

So, I made up a song in the last couple weeks... I've kind of had pie on the brain since Pi Day.  Add in the fact that I've been rereading Lord of the Rings (well, bits of it, at least) and thinking of hobbits (who always sound like Brits in my mind) and their proclivity for eating, and it's really not that strange that I managed to come up with something like this.  This song has some things in common with 100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall", but is not  to that tune.  And now, without further ado, "One Hundred Apple Pies".

Verse one:
One hundred apple pies, one hundred apple pies
Settin' on the coolin' board right afore me eyes
At least until I et one, t'ain't no surprise
Now there's only ninety-nine scrumptious apple pies.

Verse two:
Ninety-nine apple pies, ninety-nine apple pies
Settin' on the coolin' board right afore me eyes
At least until I et one, t'ain't no surprise
Now there's only ninety-eight scrumptious apple pies.

... And so on, you get the drift.  Anytime that you're short one syllable in the number, add "Just" or "O" in front of it; when you get down to single syllable numbers (ten, twelve, two, etc) add "Only"...

Verse one hundred:
Only one apple pie, only one apple pie
Settin' on the coolin' board right afore me eyes
At least until I et it, t'ain't no surprise
Now we need to bake some more scrumptious apple pies.

If one assumes more pies are baked, then the song could continue indefinitely...

This Time of Year

This time of year
Used to be about baskets and bunnies
Malted-milk balls and creme eggs
And green tinsel strewn on the floor
 
This time of year
Used to be about cantata practice
Studying for exams and speeches
And finishing projects last-minute
 
This time of year
Used to be about giving up chocolate
Or TV or meat, giving up whatever's a treat
Depriving myself because it's Lent
 
But now
 
This time of year
Isn't really much different
I'm trying to live in a world
Where it's Easter everyday
Where I'm secure enough
In the love of the Father
That I can remember the cross
And still celebrate
 
The victory.
 
I don't mean there's never shame.
I don't mean every day is great
But when you know that even death
Can be conquered,
The little things don't matter as much.
 
And more of the things I used to do
Suddenly seem
Like little things.

Hope Wears Golden Feathers

Hope wears golden feathers                                                                

And you had better hold him tight
For soon he shall go soaring off
Away into the night
 
You can ride upon the eagle's back
Laugh at the rush of wind
Go sailing off to meet the stars
And never stoop down again
 
But if your grip is weak or loose
Through your fingers hope will slip
And you'll be forced to trudge barefoot
All your long life's trip
 
So grasp that lofty eagle as
He ignores the winds that blow;
He'll carry you 'cross valleys
That confound the folks below

I Heard Death Above Me

inspired by a line of dialogue from The Incredible Hulk episode "Nine Hours"

 

 

I heard death above me

The sound of raven's wings

Fluttering and flapping

Then brushing on the floor

 

I heard death behind me

As I lay upon the ground

The empty, wooden sound

Of a scythe against my door

 

Death knelt by my shoulder

His chill hand like polar snows

The presence, and the future

My heart, my innards froze

 

Then a clattering of bones

Death banished from that place

Molten gold assuaged me

A radiant Presence warmed my face

 

"You are mine,"  He whispered.

"You have no need for fear.

I am here beside you,

And always will be near.

Call my name, and I shall save:

I have victory o'er the grave."

 

Spring Is Here

To close out my year of poetry, I have a palindrome poem for you.
 

Here is spring:

Budding trees and
Breezes blowing;
Flying kites and
Branches waving;
Growing flowers and
Birds chirping;
Laughing children
Sailing boats;
Gurgling fountains
Reflecting
Fountains gurgling,
Boats sailing,
Children laughing,
Chirping birds and
Flowers growing,
Waving branches and
Kites flying,
Blowing breezes and
Trees budding.
Spring is here! 


Congratulations to me!  I made it!  (Even coasted out on old poems :)  )

Spring

I figured I'd use up a couple more of the poems that I've already done in order to finish out my year of publishing a poem a day.  So the last 2 days' poems are about spring, despite the fact that it's at least a month away.

 

flower bulbs

in their dark graves
sing joyfully
at fluid light's first kiss
as the frigid pearlescence
of winter elements
is rent asunder
by the pink persimmon sun
rising through the golden mist

Somewhere Beautiful

On my grandpa's birthday, I think it's only fitting to share with you this poem I wrote after he died.  This is to "On the Coast of Somewhere Beautiful".

Broke my heart to hear that song
But I couldn’t help singing along
Played it on my MP3 repeatedly
Tears streaming from my eyes
Memories like pesky flies
Everywhere I turned, they stung me
 
Lonesome dogs and weenies to roast
Zucchini jelly for my toast
He was everywhere I looked for weeks
Though dead, grandpa isn’t gone
That’s why it hurts to hear the song
And why tears are coursin’ down my cheeks
 
He’s on the coast of somewhere beautiful
Heaven’s scent floatin’ in the air
Maybe even dancin’ on the water
I wish I was there
Don’t know how I’m gonna get there
All I know so far
He’s on the coast of somewhere beautiful
With a piece of my heart
 
I picture azure seas all around
Golden sand shinin’ on the ground
And I can even see him there
Half in, half out of the water
Watching over sons and daughters
Relaxing in his beach chair
 
(Chorus)
 
Someday I’ll join him there
Someday I’ll jump in his arms
Someday I’ll get to talk to him again
 
(Chorus)

Concealer

She spreads luminous layers
Of bronze and beige
On her eye shadows
 
Rehearses her excuses
Of trips and falls
In her mirror
 
Mirror, mirror, on the wall
You see what she won’t show at all
 
Reflecting broken hopes
Caged in bars of twisted love
A tear in one eye
 
Grab a Kleenex
Blot it quick
Makeup unblemished

Altamira

So, here's another poem I did a long time ago...  I'm pretty sure that it was back during college-- maybe for Art for El. Ed.?  And it's a bilingual steptolet... just because.

 

Altamira

Beautiful bulls
Little girl rediscovered
While playing
“¡Papá!
¡Venga aquí!
¡Mire al techo!” 

Stuck In A Job I Never Really Wanted

What am I doing here?
Why am I stuck in this cubicle,
Typing and telemarketing
Living day to day
Working on a contingent basis
With a four-year degree?
 
What happened to teaching?
To shaping young minds
Teaching respect and courtesy
And reading and math and science
And art and music and
A love of learning?
 
Whatever happened to doing things
That I’m passionate about?

Radio Love Song

So, for those of you who didn't catch it on the radio yesterday, a marine had called in to the show asking them to dedicate a song to his wife for Valentine's day.  They're newlyweds, but he now stationed 4,000 miles away.  The DJ was taking it a step further and basically writing a song on the air for them-- with help from a few members of the audience who called in with possible verses.  This was my submission:

"Semper fi" is my motto
Not just as a marine at sea
To you, my lovely Carrie
Always faithful, I will be

PS.  For those of you who may not know, "Semper Fidelis" or "semper fi" is the Latin motto of the Marin Corps.  It means "Always Faithful".

Standing There Reprise

This addition to "Standing There" came about during my college years... but I don't like it as well as the original.  And despite suggestions from many people to combine the two of them, I've never cared for the mash-ups, either.  So here's the reprise.

 

Standing there
Baking in a desert hell
Knowing each road-bump they hit
Might explode, their death-knell
 
Still they keep fighting, still they keep dying
Trying to set people free
While we keep whining, politicizing,
Continuing to bellyache
 
What right do we have to put them on trial
To give their sacrifices only denial
To say it’s a pity, a waste, and a shame
That they keep on fighting, they must be insane
 
But have we forgotten how we all felt
Not to have the same rights as everyone else
Was it so long ago we fought for Civil Rights
That we no longer care to be equal in the law’s sight
 
The end of the war should only come
When the rights of a stranger are as dear as our own
So instead of whining about all the costs
We should be helping the to right the wrongs

With those in Iraq
With those in Darfur
With those in Sudan
And Afghanistan
 
Our soldiers are still standing there
Thank them and thank God.

Standing There

This poem was inspired by a visit to a WW2 cemetery in England with my family... It's probably my oldest poem that I have on record, since I started it about 6th grade (I think?  Maybe 4th or 5th, it's hard to remember.).  It's undergone several revisions since then, but  the heart of the poem has remained the same.  I wish that I could post the pictures I took that day here, but alas, they predate the digital camera.

Dedicated to the soldiers who never came home & the kids who've never been told

Standing there,
Looking out across fields of white crosses:
Soldiers buried
In soil so far from home.

What were we doing? What were we thinking?
Sending these boys to die...
Some still just children, others from college
Yet they all gave their lives.

Standing there,
Guns in their hands, grim looks on their faces
Standing and Fighting,
Dying and Crying all so that we may be free.

So what are we doing? What are we thinking?
Not honoring their sacrifice...
Children not knowing, teachers not showing
How they all gave their lives
Standing there.

To You

This one underwent substantial revamps when I rediscovered it in the computer banks... in fact, I dare say it's no longer even recognizable as the same poem.

a hymn of self-dedication

November 21, 2010 / 1-29-2012

 

To You, Almighty Creator
To You, the First and the Last
To You, who alone is worthy
To You I give future and past
 
To You, restoring Redeemer
To You, the Lamb who was slain
To You, who alone can save me
To You I relinquish my pain
 
To You, infinite Spirit
To You, my Counselor and Friend
To You, who is always with me
To You I will listen again
 
To You, Father of Lights
To You, my suffering King
To You, O Guide and Protector
To You I give everything
 
To You, my precious Jesus,
To You, and only to You

To Lose Oneself

Two ways there are
to lose oneself
Leaving naught behind
 
to throw oneself into one's work
til one has no time for aught else
 
or to give oneself, wholly, lovingly
devoted to the pleasure and benefit of another
 
or yet perhaps they are the same
and to lose one self one must find
Obsession
 
yet one seems empty, dim, and frail
the other's pale reflection.

Flood

June 19, 2008

Rain falling
Never ending
Puddles coalescing
 
Rivers rising
Sandbags piling
Levies bursting
 
Flash flooding
Police knocking
No time to grab things
 
Fridges floating
Phone poles drifting
Bridges collapsing
 
Cars tangling
Red tags* dangling
Boats rescuing
 
Destruction
Is too mild a word
For a FLOOD
 
Called FEMA
Got a shelter cot
I’m surviving
 
Bottled water drinking
Unwashed people stinking
But grateful to be alive

---

* Tags of different colors were hung on the doors of flooded houses by inspection teams.  Red tags signified that the house was unsafe to enter.  Hundreds of houses were marked with these red tags following the Iowa floods in 2008.

Thirsting for Love

Like a rose, dried and crumbling
You feel your thirst and your hung’ring
What you want, you aren’t sure of
You’re waiting to find your heart’s true love
Perhaps you don’t know Him, haven’t heard His name
Perhaps you walked out on Him, to your shame
Yet you needn’t worry, He loves you just the same
And He’ll take care of you if you’ll just call His name
Call on Him and all your needs He’ll supply
Call on Him and He will surely reply
Come to Him now and your thirst will be quenched
And with His love your heart will be drenched
But don’t put it off, or leave it too late
For once you have found Him, your life will be great
But sorrow is yours if you should die first
Never knowing He’d have satisfied your thirst
So hurry, HURRY! Find him today
He’ll be with you all along your life’s way
And then when you’re weary, and have to depart,
He’ll be there to carry you close to His heart.
Who wouldn’t want a love so incredible?
If you do, the truth is indelible
Come to the cross, leave your sins at its base,
Be forgiven as you meet your TRUE LOVE face to face

Calling In Sick

Because I know someone will want to ask... NO, I did not write this on a day I had a migraine.  I wrote this out of frustration with a coworker who seemed to think that calling in sick with a migraine was just an excuse to sit at home eating chocolates all day and watching TV... because obviously if I was completely better the next day, I wasn't really sick.

Awakened by the pain
Clap my hand to my mouth
Roll out of bed onto the floor
Crawl—or stumble if I can
To the bathroom
Hurl my guts into the toilet
 
Forgot to turn off my alarm
Now every quiet beep
Is like a dagger in my skull
My hand reaching is guided by instinct
It smashes blindly again and again
Until the beeping stops
 
Because when a migraine hits
I can’t string two thoughts together
Even “the clock is THERE, turn it off”
Gets garbled by the pain
Calling in sick is managed only
By training my body to act on its own
 
Training it to roll over
And puke into the bucket
Even though movement
Makes me want to
Puke up all my organs
Just to be done with it
 
I've trained my body
To act without thought:
Trained my hand
To reach, open up my cell phone
The light slams into me
Like some kind of
Judo kick in the head
Why do they make these screens
So freaking bright?
Hit the speed dial
Why do the numbers beep so loud
Even in silent mode?
And why does my boss
Answer the phone shouting?
My mind moans in agony
As she tells me to speak up.
Why can’t she hear me?
I’m screaming and it makes it worse!
Hand on the side of my head
Trying to hold it together
As grenades explode within
 
I've trained my body
To act without thought:
Even though it’s hot
With a pillow over my head
It can stop some of the noises
That smash and tear and
Scramble my brain to mush
 
I've trained my body
To act without thought:
To never, NEVER turn on a light
I won’t notice a stubbed toe
Until I see it bruised tomorrow
Doesn’t even register right now
Every nerve in my body is tuned in to my head
 
Took me an eternity
To remember what the doctor said
So I feel my way, lurching to the bathroom
In search of the codeine-laced cough syrup
That might help calm my stomach
If I can keep it down
 
Stagger the seven and a half steps
To fall back into my womb
Where dark, silent immobility
May not bring relief
But at least
Helps me deal with the pain
 
Lying there
Each second seems like a day
Each rustle of the covers is
A new drummer beating on my brain
And when the sun sends light through the drapes
I close eyes filled with pain-caused tears
 
Thirteen lifetimes later
I might begin to feel better
No longer wanting to kill myself
Just to end the pain
But I don’t want to do anything either
Just surviving has left me totally drained
 
Some of my coworkers understand
Some of them have suffered too
And felt the nails being driven into their skulls
Hammered again and again by a sadist
Named migraine
 
But others seem to think
That I just want the day off
That I can do what I want (as if!)
I think next time
I’ll invite them over
So that they can help me clean up
All the vomit
So they can see the intense misery—
Misery that even outranks
Car wrecks in my memory
 
Then again,
Maybe not.
I’d never stand the noise

You Are The One

Conquering King, You have conquered my heart
Prince of Peace, Your peace You impart
Master, a servant I make of myself to You
Teacher, I humble myself to Your truth
 
You are the One
The only Way to the Father
The only way to Life
You are the One

Worth

a rock ballad-- 8-17-2011

I may not be making the choices
That you want me to make
I may not be doing what you would do
But that doesn't make it a mistake
 
And I may not be rolling in money
Or living in Beverly Hills
But that doesn't mean that I'm worthless
I am important still
 
Because I find my worth
In who I am
And not in what I do
I find my worth
By being useful,
Loving and true
 
My clothes may not be
The highest fashion
But I don't care
I wouldn't want a mansion
 
I'd rather be happy with what I have
Than worry about what I don't
And I'd rather have a life I like to live
Than do things I hate-- I won't
 
Because I find my worth
In who I am
And not in what I do
I find my worth
By being faithful,
Loving and true
 
Faith and honor and
Love and purity
This is the person
That I really wanna be
 
Teaching and helping and
Reading and praying
Make my life great,
That's what I'm saying
 
Because I find my worth
In who I am
And not in what I do
I find my worth
By being faithful,
Loving and true
 
So use me, Lord
Use me, Lord
Use me, Lord!
 
'Cause I don't want
What the world wants
All I want is You
And I don't care what they say,
I'll do what You want me to do
 
Because I find my worth
In being your daughter
Through the grace of Your Son
I find my worth
By living only
For the True and Faithful One
 
Because I find my worth
In who I am
And not in what I do
I find my worth
By being faithful,
Loving and true
To You
To You
To You!

 

 

Wish I’d Have Read the Fine Print

I just wanted some free stuff
A computer, an Ipod
It seemed so easy
Answer questions, buy into some “special offers”
Now credit card charges are piling up
 
I just wanted to keep my freedom
To finish high school
I was raped
I didn’t realize my decision to have an abortion then
Would stop me from ever having kids
 
I just wanted money for college
To gain discipline
We were at peace
Two weeks a year didn’t seem like that much
Now I’m fighting a war
 
Wish I’dve read the fine print
Before I signed up for all of this

Working for the Lord Today

Another oldie... acording to my laptop, I wrote this at 2:11 am on 7-5-09.  The chorus and melody are from “Blitzkrieg Bop” by the Ramones
 
 
Chorus: Ay! O! Let’s go! (and so on)
 
We’re working for the Lord today
Trying to do it all His way
Whatever anyone may say
We’re working for the Lord today
 
Chorus: Ay! O! Let’s go! (and so on)
 
He is our strength, our song, our light,
He makes everything turn out alright
We’ll always trust Him, day or night
He is our strength, our song, our light
 
Chorus: Ay! O! Let’s go! (and so on)
 
Tag: Ay! O! Let’s go with God!

Why?

Your majesty, infinite
Your power, unfathomable
Your beauty, indescribable
You are wonderful, God.
 
Your ability to stand back and let us ruin our lives, repugnant
Your wrath, terrible
Your justice, both awesome and horrific
You are awful, God.
 
From the same mouth come
Blessings
And curses
Paul despised this in us
But we get it from You?
 
You curse the wicked
And doom the earth to destruction
But choose a few
To save
And bless beyond their wildest dreams
 
WHY?

Why Do My Plants Die?

Why do my plants die?
My carrots have sunshine
My tomatoes don’t lack water
And my peppers had six inch leaves.
 
But my carrots are shriveling
My tomato plants are crisping
Into yellow and black husks
And my peppers’ leaves are falling off.

Target of Opportunity

He wanted to find someone to learn sex on--
Don't think it really mattered who, could've been anyone.
I was just a target of opportunity;
Easy prey; sucks to be me.
 
Nine years old; shouldn't've had breasts
And I shouldn't've believed every word that he said
Like how he'd strangle me if I said a word
And I was so scared, I never even whispered
 
'Cause I knew those hands' strength
They pinned me easily, held me at length
While cold fingers and cold lips did as they pleased
And then warmer parts violated me
 
Now I'm older; for myself I can forgive;
But this will haunt me for as long as I live:
What if someday he does it to another
'Cause I lacked the guts to tell on my brother?

When You...

I think I was supposed to remember this today...

4-10-11

beat of "24 Hours" by Jill Hagen

 
When you haven't got the strength,
I will give you power
When you haven't got the will
I will give you Mine
When you cannot carry on
I will carry you
So don't you worry now,
You're my true love
 
When your creativity runs dry
I will inspire you
When you cannot seem to type
I will give you words
When you're shaking in the fear of speaking up
I will open your mouth
And speak to you,
For you, through you, my love
 
When you've lost your reason to live
I will love you still
When you're living just for me
I will make your dreams come true
When you cannot carry on
I will carry you
So don't you worry now,
You're my true love

You Weren’t Right for Me

Shoulda known from the start
Took my cue from my foot on the gas pedal of my car
First time I ever went to your house,
I left doin’ hundred-twenty miles an hour
 
Shoulda known then
How could I miss it
Shoulda known then
That though you cooked really well
You weren’t right for me
 
Shoulda known from the start
Took my cue from your hands on my hips
First date face to face, suggestive already
You couldn’t wait to make it with me
 
Shoulda known then
How could I miss it
Shoulda known then
That though you were a good kisser
You weren’t right for me
 
Shoulda known from the start
Took my cue from the way you called me,
Night and day, possessive already
Had to know everything I did
 
Shoulda known then
How could I miss it
Shoulda known then
That though you seemed caring
You weren’t right for me

Treasure Box

I wrote this poem to go with an actual, physical box that I gave my sister (I think as a wedding gift?)...  Anyways, I thought it would be a cool idea to start her happy memory box with a poem.

I’m your little treasure box;
I only hold good things-
Like wishes of love, peace, and joy
And happy thoughts of Springs.
Fill me up with memories,
And thoughts and hopes and dreams,
Keepsakes and tiny wonders
‘Til I’m just bursting at the seams.
 
The one who gives this box to you
Wishes you only the best.
Follow Jesus, to your heart be true
And God will take care of the rest.
May your life be full of laughter,
May you never be burdened with cares,
And for each day here ever after,
Know that you’re in somebody’s prayers. 

 

 

 

 

Under the Desk

in a college dorm room
she hides
under the desk
crying her eyes out
while biting her hand
 
nobody sees her
nobody hears her sobs
nobody comforts her
nobody guesses the girl laughing in the hall is bawling now
 
two hours later
she sits in class
body there, perfectly poised
makeup covers all traces of tears
nobody knows her pain
 
now nobody yells at her to stop crying
nobody tells her to grow up
nobody says, “Act like a young lady!”
nobody calls her crybaby
 
but bottling it up
 
is killing her

Wedding Rose Card Poem

I wrote this for someone's wedding years ago.  If you're reading this and I wrote it for you... please remind me who you are. 

Flowers and wishes
I give in this bouquet
For all happiness
On your special day
 
White rose is for purity
Peach rose for desire
A pink rose for perfection
And happiness to inspire
Yellow stands for friendship
Red, respect and passion’s fire.
 
But the wedding rose
Is both white and red
To symbolize the oneness
Of hearts in love united.

What Is It About A Fire?

What is it about a fire
That’s so intrinsically romantic?
Curling up on the couch in front of one
Is downright cliché.
 
What is it about a fire
That makes men into boys?
Give ‘em something to burn and a lighter
And they can’t wait to ignite the flames.

They don’t just watch either—
They have to poke them, too!
And find more wood to incite the blaze
To burn hotter, higher, longer.
 
What is it about a fire
That just cries out for food?
With no hot dogs and marshmallows to roast,
What would there be to do?
 
What is it about a fire
That makes people want to watch?
Even when someone’s house burns
Strangers come and gawk.
 
What is it about a fire
That connects in my brain to John Lee?
Was it his passion for God, his contagious joy,
Or his twenty-foot bonfire smile?

Weary

I'm weary.
Tired.
I just want to lay down in bed
And sleep
For a very long time.
Maybe forever.
 
I want to lay my worries down
And not have to consider
Picking them up again.
I'm tired of responsibility.
 
I wish there was a reset button on my life.
 
Maybe I'd do it better a second time around.
 
But then again,
Who cares?
 
Not me.
I'm too weary to care.
At first I thought it was the mono
Rearing its ugly head again.
But maybe it's not.
 
Maybe, it's just that
I'm sick and tired
Of a never-ending job hunt
Of not getting credit from people
Of being a doormat.
 
I'm weary,
And I'm ready to just
Lay my burdens down,
Leave everything behind,
And let Jesus have me.
 
And maybe if it wasn't so selfish,
I'd do it.
 
But I can't hurt my family like that.

Austin

“I’m gonna kill you!”
He screamed down the stairs.
Not thank you
Not wow
Not OhMyGosh!!
 
No,
In the manner of teens everywhere,
“I’m gonna kill you!”
 
After all, his dad had just told him
He wasn’t getting a guitar for Christmas
Five minutes before they sent him up
To get the
“Forgotten” present
 
And the whole next hour as he sat and played
It was:
“My fingers hurt!
“So E will be G to me, I can remember this . . .
“I need to look at my fingers or I won’t get them in the right spot!”
 
And he might have seemed ungrateful
 
But then again,
He did give me a hug
Just for tuning it
And showing him how to

Watching

Some people watch birds

Not me
 
I'll sit on the front stoop
And watch the people go by
Or I'll sit in a cafe booth
And watch the people talk
 
The boy popping wheelies on his bike
The old woman carrying her dog 'for a walk'
The girl flipping her hair
As the oblivious boy walks past
The man shaking it in line
With the toddler on his hip
 
And as I watch them as they walk
And as I watch them as they talk
I pick up all those quirks
That make them special:
A lopsided grin with a single dimple;
A tongue stuck out of the corner of a mouth in concentration;
A leg crossed with the foot cocked up almost against a shin;
Leaning against a car with a hand possessively on the top,
Fingers caressing in circles as he speaks;
Or a pair of pencils going full speed on a textbook at the bus stop,
Clicking and tapping to Ipod music I can't hear;
Little girl sitting with one leg tucked under her;
A two-year-old calling Mommy's shades her headband.
 
Oh yes,
I pick up all these quirks
And write them down
To give my characters.

What Is It About Summer?

What is it about summer
That makes you long for sweet corn and softball
A cheery breeze and a bit of rain
A thunderstorm to break the humidity again
 
What is it about summer
That makes you stop and smell the roses
Dig in the dirt of your garden
And wash the mud off in the swimming hole
 
What is it about summer
That cries out for a barbeque
Make time for friends and neighbors,
Reconnect with family, too
 
Are we all just high on sunscreen and bug spray
Or is it something in the air
What is it about summer
That makes it wonderful, Anywhere?

Untitled from Journal

I see

Stars far above
And yet so deep within me
What are they really?
Tiny, shiny
Reflections of God’s great love
 
Only love
That is all can see
When I look around me
At the good being done

Untitled 10-5-04

College

Stuck in my room

Looking out at the stars shining

Responsibility driving me back to my studies

 

I turn

Run out to the starry, starry night

Sail out through the star-shine

Once round the moon

Dancing, flying

Magically alive without breath

Filled with wonder

Free

 

End up back at my desk

Guiltily happy,

Refreshed

But gotta go back to work

 

Vacuum

 2-27-2011

I haven't vacuumed for three years.

I can't.
I CAN'T.

Every time I turn the vacuum on
I fall to pieces
Trembling, shaking
Collapsing in a puddle of tears
 
My little dog runs to his kennel
Seeking the safety of walls and bars
To protect him from the machine
That makes such noise
 
The cage that surrounds me
Is not a cage of safety
The walls and bars hem me in
Squeezing like a trash compactor
 
As the vacuum noise
Sucks me dry
Leaving only guilt behind
Zombie-ish nightmares
Of brains being sucked out
As my son died
 
O God, can You ever forgive me?
Never mind.
I don't think that there's any way
I could ever
Forgive myself.
 
How ironic that it's the sound of the
Vacuum.
Because that's what I'm left with:
Nothing.
Empty arms.
Empty heart.
Vacuum.

You Opened Up Your Heart

song to the tune of "Come Away With Me"

by the Jesus Culture

11-6-11

 

You said:

"Come away with me.
Come away with me.
It's never too late,
It's not too late--
It's not too late for you.
 
I have a plan for you.
I have a plan for you:
It's gonna be wild,
It's gonna be great!
It's gonna be
Full of me."
 
And I chose to go to You
I chose to go with You
All Your plans are good
Your plans are joy
Your plans are life
To me.
 
You opened up Your heart
And let me in.
You opened up Your heart
And let me in.
You opened up Your heart
And let me in.
 
You opened up Your heart
Adopted me, made me Yours.
Joint heirs with Jesus
So now I approach
Your throne with confidence
With confidence
Because
Because
Because
You opened up Your heart
And let me in.
 
You have a plan for me
You have a plan for me
All Your plans are good
Your plans are joy
Your plans are life
To me.
 
I want to do Your will
I want to see your face
Full of joy
Full of pride
In how I've served You
 
You have a plan for me
You have a plan for me
Your plans are good
They bring me closer
Closer (closer) to You.
 
I will follow You
I will follow You
Wherever You go
Whatever You choose
I will do it
 
I will follow You
I will follow You
Wherever You go
Whatever You choose
I will do it
 
You have a plan for me
You have a plan for me
Your plans are good
They bring me closer
Closer (closer) to You.
 
I want to do Your will
I want to see your face
Full of joy
Full of pride
In how I've served You

Untitled 6-10-12

fills instrumental break in Take Me In (Holy of Holies)

 

You tore the veil

You made a way
There is none like you
Awesome in grace

The Boy Genius

for Kyle... in memory of the time before you earned the nickname 'Captain Oblivious'

I’ve bothered my sister enough now
She closed her closet door
And barricaded it with toys
Now I can go in from my side
And set up my Secret Lab
 
Four lights flashing red and green
Ring my small white table
Magnets surround my project:
A spaceship straight out of Star Wars!
Almost ready for launch
 
Oh, no! It’s my aunt!
She’s come to get the laundry!
Must cover it!  What can I use?
AHA! My robe, looking carelessly flung.
Now, to look innocent.
 
“Well, well, what have we here?”
She asks as she lifts my robe.
A wink, a grin
And she leaves again
My secret’s safe; she’ll never tell.

Autistic Student

To anyone else
It would be nothing
Status quo
Expected
 
But for him
It was a triumph
Exceeding expectations
Success!
 
Hands in lap,
Sitting quietly in class
Paying attention
Listening
 
Writing his name
Reading a book
Answering questions
Concentrating hard

 

Taken Guys

As soon as I find out

A guy I have a crush on

Is in a serious relationship

My mind starts filling up

With excuses and arguments.

 

It’s like I stamp

Their mental images

With a big old rubber stamp

Saying “TAKEN”

And then I try to convince myself

That really,

He’s not the one for me.

 

So what if he’s got a sense of humor

That makes me laugh and giggle and snigger

Whenever I read his emails?

Another guy could buy a joke book

If he wasn’t similarly endowed.

 

So what if he’s got a smile

That dang near breaks my heart

When he cracks that crooked grin at me?

Most people have nice smiles.

 

So what if he’s got

Blue eyes that make me want to

Just stare at them all day?

Green eyes and gray eyes

And even brown eyes

Can be nice, too.

 

So what if he’s got

Attractively mussed hair

And intellectual-sexy specs?

Other guys have those too.

 

So what if he’s got a body

That’s graceful, lean, muscular

And completely drool-worthy?

So do Brad Pitt and Matthew McConaghey.

Wait, they’re taken too.

Well, surely there are other guys

(Less well-known)

Who share this characteristic.

 

And so what if he’s got a voice

That makes my chest thrum,

Or my heart beat in rhythm,

Or a shiver go up my spine,

Or my knees feel just a bit weak?

Surely, he’s not the only guy on the planet

Who can sing well.

 

And who really cares

If he loves kids

And shares a fondness for cards

And movies and books?

Who cares?  I mean,

There must be another guy out there

Somewhere

That shares my sensibilities.

 

And if he happens to love the Lord

With all his heart

And have a great way of sharing insights,

So what?

There are plenty of Christian guys.

There are plenty of smart guys.

There are plenty of caring guys.

 

They’re just all

TAKEN

Already.

 

No,

They’re not.

 

Just keep telling yourself that,

Bethany.

 

© Bethany Peat 2011

 

Sunset

Another descriptive oldie.  Not my best work...

Clouds
Fluffy like cotton candy
Pink on the bottom
Purple on top
A green-gold ribbon of sky
Floats between them
And the coral necklace
Of the horizon
Holes in the clouds reveal
Bits of sky in baby blue
It’s so beautiful!
When God painted this sunset,
He must have used every color,
Every hue 

Sunday Afternoons

Work in the caf,
Go to church,
But the best part of the day
Hasn't started yet.
 
'Cause there's fried chicken
And boiled potatoes with gravy
And sweet corn on the cob
Ice cream and fruit pie, too
Waiting at Gramma's house.
 
And the conversation
Is sure to make me laugh
Like when Grandpa tells me to
"Show a little leg"
If I want to get attention.
 
And then there'll be crosswords,
Scrabble and card games,
And bang-bang-shoot-'em-ups
Before I go back to the dorm.
 
I wish Sunday afternoons could last all week.

Stallion

First attempt at a steptolet... also a college leftover.

Stallion

herd’s lord
strong and proud
he Rears
Defiant!
always taunting:
Can’t Catch Me!

Stains

Shout can't get it out
Resolve can't remove it with a spray
Tide pens just rub it in
Oxi-clean leaves it to stay
Clorox would only yellow it
Or leave it dingy gray
Nothing on earth has the power
To wash my stains away
 
Yes, it's crazy, it's crazy I know
The only way to cleanse my soul
Is to cover me with the blood
Of the One who makes me whole 

Somewhere

Somewhere there’s a woman
Gowned in a beautiful white dress
She thinks that today
There’s no end to her happiness
 
Across town, another woman
Wears a torn and tear-stained blouse
She weeps through bruises
And runs out of the house
 
It might seem God is in the church
But not the run-down yard
With the bride in her finery
And not with the woman scarred
 
Yet through it all there is a plan
I know that this is true
For I know even a woman used
Can become the bride, too
 
A battered woman learned
To appreciate tenderness
Now she’s found a man who will
Carry her through the wilderness
 
And God united the two of them
Brought them through their trials
Now the woman once abused
Overflows with smiles
 
Though the years were hard for her
She wouldn’t trade them away
They taught her how to find
The silver lining in clouds of gray.

Thank You, Lord, for my Preschool Class

Thank You, Lord
For marshmallow creme faces,
For feathery tickles,
For smiles and giggles,
And kids who can’t do shoelaces.
 
Thank You, Lord
For every knock-me-down group hug,
For “chase-me!” games,
For silly nicknames,
And kids who sing “tractors chug-chug”.
 
Thank you, Lord
For my screaming ambulance chasers,
My holders of hands,
My noisy drum bands,
And for my wall-crashing scooter racers.

Someday

Someday,
I’d like to hear tinkling piano melodies
Or the strum and pick of a guitar
And find somebody waiting for me
As I open the front door
 
Someday,
I’d like to feel a pair of arms
Wrap around my knees
With an “I love you, Mommy!”
To welcome me
 
Someday,
I’d like to smell roast in the crockpot
And a warm loaf in the breadmaker
Ready to share with my family
When I get home from work
 
Someday,
I’d like to see content faces
Look up and smile back at me
When I walk into my house
And yell, ”I’m home!”
 
Someday,
I’d like to taste the sweetness
Of a welcome-home kiss
From my lover’s lips,
My husband hugging me every night
 
Someday,
I’d like all of that
Now,
Is that really SO MUCH to ask for?

Singing in the Shower

This is something I wrote quite a few years ago... I think during my freshman year of college.

Singing in the shower
Alone and confident
No one else can hear me now
I won't come out ‘til my energy's spent
. . .
La, la, la; lah, lah, lah; luh, luh, luh; lah, la!
La, la, la; lah, lah, lah; luh, luh, luh; lah, luh!
La, la, la; lah, lah, lah; luh, luh, luh; lah, la, la, lah!
. . .
Wholesome water, I feel steaming rain start
Renewal floods into my ev'ry pore
As I unload my heart
Singing in the shower

the search

there are brilliant blue skies outside
but it’s midnight black inside my soul
feel the emptiness and I can’t hide
all I want is to be made whole
 
searching, searching for fulfillment
lost and wandering on life’s road
how do I make my heart content
how can I stand up under this load
 
knew I just couldn’t be good enough
no matter how hard I would try
dealing with my worthlessness was tough
so sometimes I’d just break down and cry
 
and then one day, a new light came
broke through the chains around my heart
I knew that I would never be the same
I’d been renewed and got a new start
 
who could have made this possible?
who alone could take away my sin?
who could fill me up, make me whole,
and who could give me life again?
 
His name is Jesus!  His name is Savior!
and to save my worthless life He died
now I don’t feel quite so lost anymore
because He’ll always be my guide

Lonesome Shepherd

This song was an attempt to get into the head of one of the shepherds in the fields when Jesus was born.  Before He was born, they might have thought He was going to come as a conquering king; come to save them from the Romans rather than to save them from their sins.

(to the tune of "Lonesome Hound Dog" from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers)

 

I'm a lonesome shepherd

Watching over my sheep
And I lie here dreaming-- it don't matter
If awake or asleep
 
And now I'll sing
My dream of a king
 
Now take old King David
He was a shepherd, too
I wish it was the Romans-- that King David
With his armies slew
 
Then we'd be free
Free to live in peace
 
I'm longing for Messiah
Come to set His people free
We need a mighty, conquering hero
That's who I want to see
 
His mighty arm
Would keep us safe from harm

The Writing Life

background sound
coaxes my poetry forth:
it jumps from my ticking mind
at the speed of life
and moon rockets
 
lack of silence
is as a muse to me
noiselessness blares at me
like a prison for words
my writer’s cell block

The Office Monster

Whether she comes click-clacking down the hall
Or the carpeted floor keeps you from hearing her at all,
Beware of the Office Monster.
For the office monster is a ferocious beast:
Stiletto daggers on her feet;
Her glazed eyes intensely stare;
Pencils stick points-out from her hair;
Tiny fangs dangle from her ears;
Her meeting-room tirades are everyone's worst fears;
You've never caught her peering into your cubicle-cell
But when her eyes bore into you, you can always tell;
Even after eating her lunch out of a yogurt cup,
She still looks ready to gobble you up.
But I must admit her arms are the scariest:
She holds enough boring files to bury your desk.
 

 

 

The Charmer

The crystalline blue
Of a summer’s sky
Captured forever
In your beautiful eyes
 
I’d let you get away
With anything you want.
You climb all over me and
I'm still your smiling sycophant.
 
I'd love to hug you and kiss you
Every night and every day
And just because it's you,
Candyland is what I'll play
 
You’re a charmer,
You little devil, you
Lucky for me,
You’re only two. 

Find the Time

read a little
love a lot
share a skill
and be taught

take a picture
frame it quick
never forget
the reason for the click

write and sing
dance and play
make-believe
you're queen for the day

hug and kiss
and whisper love
then give thanks for these blessings
to God above

Another Year

So, obviously from this poem, I was extremely impressed with the neighbors' New Year's party in 2008.  NOT.  I was grumpy... I think maybe I had to work that New Year's Day, and i was really just wishing that they would be quieter so that I could go to sleep.

I’ve never really understood
What the big deal is
I mean, what ARE we celebrating?
Another year passing?
I thought that’s what
Birthdays are for.                                           
All I see are
People getting drunk
And everyone
Staring obsessively
At a BALL.
Wowwwwwwwwwwww.
Talk about being
Underwhelmed.
So it’s New Year’s.
Big Whoopdeedo.
Blow your noisemakers,
Wave your sparklers,
Kiss somebody—
Somebody you’re not even sure you like,
Drink your stinking champagne,
And sing “Auld Lang Syne”—
And get done with it already.