Friday, December 09, 2005

Book III


1. The Outside View
3. A Muse
4. (untitled)
5. My Grave
6. (untitled)
8. Title is : “Untitled”
10. Five Haikus

The Outside View

From left and right:

Taking sides today is sport, and winning is never out of view.
We take our leisure to do war, and doing thus do strew
about with words the whims and foolishness we conjure.
As we spin our words, alas half knowing what they mean,
And so, not knowing what we meant, or what we meant to say…
Still our word spun buzzing threads are gathered to the shuttle,
And to the loom : to weave........
in fifty years we'll call it “History” -
Into whole cloth, where with warp and weft
we convolute the threads to thoughts, threads once dyed
In vats of prejudice and bigotry,
Woven in haughtily and naughtily into lies.
The outcome was never in doubt... Come !
Let us make the emporer his new clothes.

From here:

And popular today it is to say : “think outside the box”.
Now as I am wont to, I must define and align my self
with words and thoughts I understand ;
So that I may not expect
any torrent of confusion
or unexpected rain
of misinterpertation,
or discomfort
by vague intuition,
or contradiction of other.

How now : the box.

I think most people who want to think outside the box must consider the box.
Is not the box : the known? The universe of your minds attainments?
If so how small the box !
How easy it should be to leave it's parallelepiped*.
My box seems very small, so much exists outside it!
And so I go- where no others have gone before, into that which lies outside Moi, -to think!!

Therefore, I am persuaded that the outside is worthy of a wary walk,
for, outside the box : the unknown.
The unknown I know not whereof, whatof, when, how, or who of.
But there is no if, there is only is. I have parsed is, and found it to be.
Will you join me outside the box?
* The parallelepiped, a six-faced solid figure, symbolizes rationality and security and, in my imagery, it is used as the most favoured shape to take man and his mind through the mysterious voyage into time and beyond time. from

Ebbing faith has visited my soul and its discomfort settles over me like a too warm blanket of guilt. There is an expectation of enduring it in a lazy sort of way, not fully awake enough to the light of the morning star, sleepily pulling the covers overhead to block the bright rays, the penetrating rays of His Holy Convincer.

Sin always seems to be at the root of these periods of lackadaisical, lackluster, lay-about sessions. It is in this instance, a prime besetter that has visited me again. I’ll not mention it by name. Just use your imagination and one of your personal loathsome pet peevish sins will suggest itself to you. Forgive me. I don’t mean to trouble your soul. In fact you may wish to pray (I wish, too) for me and for yourself.

These bouts of beleaguering, bothersome, bad behavior are not to be endured long, but to be thrown off and overboard like stuff worse than refuse. Only one thing can be positively said for the experience of this garden variety backsliding. Its slow motion negative direction qualifies it as an acceptable part of the good fight, slightly better than the motionlessness of a dreaded becalming.


A Muse

Ah, Abraham…. thou favored of the children of men in God’s green earth.
What was it about you that caught His eye?
Surely He knew you from before all time,
Surely he chose you out of all the flesh of earth,
A man who would follow You,
A man of steadiness toward You.

Isaac, it may seem your father preferred God to you.
Did you struggle against those ropes?
Did you trust God even as your dad?
43434344444 N

(untitled)It's not easy writing poems
in this post modern age.
The times they are a changin' some,
most don't know where it's comin' from...
that is : the wrath and rage.

Men were once a gentler sort
of beings on this earth,
now it's as if some alien thought
has come forth, (evil's all it's got),
and stripped the world of worth.

We cry "values!" every day
and wonder : "...what men do!"
Shall we again fear and not tread
where fools have gone and filled their heads
with idols thru and thru?

It's not so much the rhymes don't come
or meters march along.
It's just the topics do depress,
they make for worry and distress,
so much today's gone wrong.

Thanks be to God, our only Good,
who by His Holy Flame;
is burning out the sin and doubt,
the tin and dross come up and out,
that pure gold may remain.

The more the sin, the more the Grace
God gives to us, it's sure;
He might prefer to lavish less
if we'd bear up and do our best
for Him whom we adore.

We're saved by Grace through faith
which we place in Jesus Christ, it's true.
So run this race toward Heavens shore
and in His strength YOU CAN endure
and rise beyond the blue.


Lord, open every ear, that they may choose to
call upon Your Name, Baruch ha Shem ,
Amen .

My GraveI hope to go to my grave
one day
without issue or care or
And to rise up above,
enthralled and in love,
forgetting all matters

In a world full of war,
still One I adore
carries me daily
through strife.
I speak now of whom we
call our Bridegroom
and the Way ,the Truth, and
the Life.

Though sin does abound,
this One I have found has
by dying and rising again;
given proof beyond doubt,
(we should give a great
He has Power to forgive
all our sin.

More and more grace He
gives to His race
of man, who has fallen so
of the Glory they knew
when once the first two,
were by Satan made to be

So confidently I, a trembling lie and
await the great Day of
the Lord,
someday or anon, I'll arise
with a song,
to Christ: my eternal

(untitled)I want to tell my story,
from beginning to the end.
I want my last day on earth
to end as I ascend
from earth's decaying grip,
from body's bony cage,
as joyfully my soul does slip
into it's new image.
I'll rest before God's mercy seat,
rest, all work below complete,
as there this new creation
becomes in Him replete.

I want the days that now remain
to bless my Holy Lord,
and each and every one contain
the blessing of His Word.
Oh that I would promptly now repent,
and always now obey
the Word from Father, heaven sent.
And always also pray
for grace and strength and bravery,
to shun all wicked knavery,
and strive for good, not wavering
until that endless Day.


Title is : “Untitled”

i hear my name now and again.
every so often someone speaks
to me about something. i'm not a good
listener, but if you get my
ATTN : Hey you! that does it sometimes.
Soups on always gets it. Hey you is ...
human after all.
i have some friends too.
they call me Dave. and that's ok, it IS
my name, after all.
lots of excuse me’s on the bus,
some thank you's when i hold the door.
a letter came once addressed Dear Dr.
by mistake. that's sad though.
i'm not a Doctor, ...after all.
the best it's got is "Sir". that's for
my graying temples and the
wrinkles creepin’ ‘round
my eyes. that's for gettin' older.
o well, i guess that's ok too.


Fall draws near, that part of the year
he told me “the trees go to rest.”
As yellows and reds above my head
fall to the ground and are lying…

the dying I fear, is next in the year
when winter winds come sighing,
and clouds, often gray, and low all the day,
and few the birds be flying.

The cold and the freeze, Lord forbid us the sneeze,
can be bitter and trouble and woe.
My flesh is rare pleased as the nip in the breeze
tells of shoveling ……….shoveling snow.

Then spring makes its splash, with a shout and a dash
as glory and splendor do race,
bringing good cheer and a place in the year
to Thank our great Savior for grace.

The thaw has begun, sure.. thanks to the sun,
which was spoken by God and appeared;
and planting is made, and foundations are laid—
it’s my favorite time of the year.

Tis done all too soon, then in heat we do swoon
when summer does brightly affirm; that
for bread we must sweat, midst our sin and our debt,
and creation travails as we learn,

of God, who is love, and who guides from above
till we’re reaped like the crop in the field.
Our few days are spent, best in them repent
to our Rock, our strong tower and shield.

As fall again greets us, summer it meets
with the diurnal turn of the pole;
and crops taken in by the bushel and bin
bless the faithful, though hungry, dear souls.

All through the year God is so near
to the one who will fear Him as Lord.
As Father and Son, who with Spirit are One,
who is patient and kind and will not leave behind
the dear Soul who willingly comes,
and a trembling bows low,
to Him who doeAs know
each one... and He calls us by name.


not new enemies
should one be desiring
let foes become friends

dawn will mount it’s steed
upon his hind legs will rear
day awakes, dark flees.

dead men numberless
gone since God’s obit appeared
could it be a lie?
small black brown children
deeply truly they are loved
as all are: blessings
i was there alone
an unseen presence met and
contradicted this

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