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Anybody Remember Aunt Bee?

Roadrunner3

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Ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny
I learned years ago,
And so, embryology ate my theology
Severed my cosmology
Threw me back to primordial stew
Phew!!

Over the years,
Well simmered,
But with vision dimmer
Now catching a glimmer
A hint
An evanescent shimmer
Of a moment sublime,
A dimple in time,
When God crossed the line
And dined.

I love the simpler things now
A cat in the lap
Opie and Aunt Bee
A hymn sing.

And those arguments so fine
Just seem to resign
'Neath the bread and the wine.
 

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Speaking of the Devil

I saw my ole friend Devil
Dawdling t'other day,
Gift of gab unblemished,
Master of persuade,

And I must say he's aged just fine
Despite the women song and wine,
I guess the souls on which he's dined
Combine to keep his youthful shine.

His stories weaved and wooed...
I wept,
He promised paths of peace...
I slept,

And in my dreams I saw a light
That drew me like a moth, the fright
Bestirred a sense of wrong and right,
I woke and dodged the Devil's bite.

I said, "Goodbye, my friend",
He left,
Sulking, droopy-tailed,
Bereft,

But soon he'll find another mark
On which to ply his skills so dark,
I shiver, thinking, how in past
His presence on me prison cast.
 
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Three Times

Time
Terrestrial
With ticks and tocks
And millions of clocks
Dividing our day
Like curds and whey
All nicely displayed
With minutes and hours
Wielding the power
To rush us to work
Or hurry to bed
We are wed
To Father Time.

Time
Celestial
Another matter
With momentous clatter
Of galactic collisions
And atomic divisions
With nuclear scatter
Taking millions of years
But looked on as brief
For stellar careers.

Time
Vaticinal
Spoken of old
And transcending itself
Where all things are new
And thus a wealth
Of wisdom's bestowed
On those laboring beneath
A terrestrial burden
And fleeing time's heat
As this ageless kingdom
Predating the stars
Sends Word to The Earth
And now bears the scars
A terrestrial reminder
Of celestial import
Though Time slips away
It still waits in this Court.
 
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A Moment's Peace

While sitting out back on a spring afternoon
So fine with the shine of the sun and the tunes
Of birds oh so happy since spring it had sprung
And buzzing and crawling and chirping begun
It started me thinking, my gray cells were clinking
And clanking and carefully laying the planking
For thoughts that could finally stand on their feet,
Frosty from months 'neath the snow and the sleet,
But now quite well thawed and ready for flexing
Though truthfully now the subject is vexing
And prone to collapse in a mass of entangled
Neurons not sure just what side of the new fangled
Way of expressing they want to be found
And therefore so prone to go round and round.

But anyway back to my mind I am musing
How much of my life is just not my choosing
The news on at six and the inclement weather
Don't seem to consider how much I would rather
Hear words of encouraging merging of factions
And surging of efforts to end the distractions
Of political parties and suicide bombers
That light up the night with their increasing numbers
That only now serve to increase division
And stoke up already red hot derision.

Amidst this emoting the scenery's smoting
My mind with spring colors that give a nice coating
And pastel impression on incoming signals
That cancel the 'forementioned angst and now kindles
A query inquiring how senses assaulted
With beauty can then be summarily vaulted
Assuming a seemingly higher domain
That spiraling higher attempts to attain
The highest affection and then higher still
Beyond what can actually be grasped by the will.

Into this new orbit, around a new center,
Attachments to all the old self seem to splinter
Leaving a Presence presiding divinely
As separateness slithers away so entirely,
A prescience informs me that two are now one
And just for a moment the world is begun
Anew imbued with guiltless enjoyment
And soaking in Life is the major employment...

But then the deck creaks, bubble is burst,
A crick in the neck brings me back where I first
Had sauntered, awash in such sweet reverie,
But now I'm aware of a nearby TV
With rain as the forecast and details at ten
Of a bomb that's struck fear in the people again.
 
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Ah RR, thanks man, that is just so good, so real.
For thoughts that could finally stand on their feet,
Frosty from months 'neath the snow and the sleet,
But now quite well thawed and ready for flexing
Keep flexing
><>
 
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A Bruised Reed

a bruised reed waits
parched land languishes
lonely soul's fate
gaffed by empty promises

cloak of darkness weighs
din of world oppresses
immersive, vulgar stench
putrid death's caresses

Life, Love, Liberty
have passed by

and yet...
a sigh ascends like clarion call
blasts Almighty ears
angels shaken out of bed
asudden Spirit's near

Hope, it seems, is never dead
where Faith still harbors quick,
a world of life can grow and bloom
from frail, inauspicious, stick.
 
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Quiver Dither

If Peace is a river and Hope just a sliver
Of light in the dark,
If Love is a quiver of arrows that thither
Will shoot for their mark,
When Life makes me shiver
I pray that Hope's sliver of light 'tis enough,
So straight from Love's quiver
A point may the River of Peace open up.
 
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Unannounced Joy

sometimes
unannounced
dailiness seems to fade
repetitiousness fizzles
menial and mundane mechanical movements
evanesce

in their place
pastoral calm
circadian siesta
temporary injunction
puncturing mentation's madness

enjoy still water
green pastures
soothing sun
protective mountains

life in Life
refreshed.
 
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Had I Been Born Near Jordan's Flow

Had I been born near Jordan's flow,
Grown next a plow, oxen bow,
Trod thistled fields behind His tread,
Would I have noticed Satan's dread?

Skipping stones with Joseph's sons,
Scribing lessons, Temple-tongued,
Wrestling high on sawdust pile
Should I have caught Creation's smile?

And when we bar of manhood reached,
Ceiling of our childhood breached,
Funneled down a well worn path
Could I have sensed a feral wrath?


Had He and I in history crossed,
His chiseled hands on wood embossed
As master of his craft and trade,
Would we have laughed, friendship made?

Might we have shared a drink or two,
Talked of rain, conjectured who
Would reap the greatest yield this year,
Shared tricks to stubborn donkey steer?

Discussed the news from out of Rome,
Temple tax, state of throne,
How best to treat embedded thorns,
Prediction of a temple torn?


Had I been fishing when He called,
Seen Simon Peter, John enthralled,
Watched crowds engulf my childhood friend,
Would I have followed fevered trend?

And when the faithful left him dry,
Their King abandoned, mocked, despised,
When bloodied figure stood alone
Would have I joined Peter, all disowned?

I sometimes dream these heady days,
Me and Christ, village-raised,
Then wake in time with sense to know
I have been born near Jordan's flow.
 
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(a recent poem by afish - And There Was and There will Be - had me scrambling to dust off this one from a few years ago)

Skinny Dipping

I remember skinny-dipping in a farm pond
Surface water incredibly warm
Cattail sentinels on the perimeter
Plop! Plop! of startled frogs
Gooey sucking sound of mud-trucking
Blazing hot sun.

Total immersion in summer's sensations, sounds,
Verdant...veritas?

Unruly, maybe,
But after years of raising hands
Sharing toys
Lowering seats
It is meet to reconnect to vital moments
Days in the sun.

Not to shun civilization's quest for legal tender,
Nor to shame steeples that stand like sentinels themselves,
Lighthouses for those lost in the pond,
And the plethora of laws sucking at our feet may be needed.

But, sometimes,
A man seeks the Son unimpeded,
A dip in liberating waters
Exposed to the crown
A touch from the Truth
Facades drown.
 
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Thanks RR, sounds like we've got water on the brain.
Really enjoyed this one. Measured but great variation in rhythm and tone. A plethora of images, sensations and thoughts with just the right weight of the right words.
"Verdant...veritas" indeed.
><>
 
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She Oft Brought Blooms - a poem honoring those grieving this Memorial Day

She oft brought blooms to 'dorn the stone,
Love still lives though stilled the bones,
Kneeling, gnarled, soft prayers she sheds,
Whispered pleas to raise the dead.

A fleshly hand proffered now,
Visage of a handsome brow,
Breath soft blown across her cheek,
Any, all, she'd gladly greet.

Black silence blankets those engraved,
Shrouds so thick a cavalcade
Of angels ought not penetrate,
Blooms released, in tears are vased.

Years ago, not far from here,
Shared these two a life of cheer,
Fancy feelings filled their days,
Not far from here, yet far away.

She lifts a finger to the stone,
Traces there the love she'd known,
Feels how hard that time can make
A gentle kiss or soft embrace.

The gardener happens by, and stops,
Lifts her up, her brow he mops,
His hands seem pierced, she lets grief go,
Head 'gainst his chest, she hears...and knows.
 
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Brought to You by the Letter "P"

man...
a quasi-cosmic pluripotential
propagated by limitless recombinations of progenitor peptides
fraught with hazards biologic, environmental, political, financial, social, spiritual
tossed into cycles of growth and decay
molded by millions of minions of current culture

the miracle is...
this precious piece of protoplasm seems providentially propelled
to seek its roots
drill for truth
slipping noose of prosaic repetition
embracing hints of symphony
from its DNA musician
 
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Lol - great stuff,
slipping noose of prosaic repetition
embracing hints of symphony
from its DNA musician
Yea breakout!!! Protoplasms of the world unite! You've nothing to lose but your cellular membranes!!!
><>
 
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A Prayer

Heavenly Father,
If we are Your feet, Your hands, Your eyes,
If we are to be Your love in disguise,
If fleeting our days, receding our skies,
Then cast out our sleepiness, faith energize.

If billowing waves of truth do surround,
If pillowing rays of hopefulness hound,
If You are the poor, the downcast, the meek,
Then take and refine the fortunes we seek.

If we are the ones that need You the most,
No matter the tongue, no matter the coast,
If You are the One in whom we should boast,
May dawn find us drawn to Your heavenly host.
 
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Friendship

What a delight to have a friend
Someone to pull me out of the dumps one day
And back to reality the next.

A mirror
A soul-sifter with soft hands, sword sheathed.

One who understands there is chaff with the wheat
And wheat with the chaff
That to destroy one destroys all.

In a fertile friendship
The focus is on the good
The rest withers.
 
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The Breeze

I fathom not my mindset, Lord,
Nor forces deep, entwined,
That day I trimmed a sprightly ship,
Abandoned peaceful climes.

My heart was strong, with steady gaze
And grasp of sturdy hands,
Guided by a youthful dream
I tracked exotic lands.

Decades out, mind engorged
With deeds of derring-do,
Yet survived a hunger
Unasuaged, unremoved.

In time, becalmed at deepest point,
Supplies turned paltry dregs,
No hope of spying land anon,
On weak, disheartened legs,

I climbed the mast of broken Man,
Let loose imperiled plea,
Clinging where wide arms did cross,
At last! Empyreal Breeze!
 
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