"preparations" poems
In all my paralyzing confusion, only one thing is needed; in all my anxiety over my much less than ideal circumstances, only one thing is needed; in all my this-is-so-unfair discouragement, only one thing is needed; in my pressing-down-like-a-boulder-on-my-chest grief, only one thing is needed; in my feels-like-my-insides-are-being-scraped-out sorrow, only one thing is needed; in my falling-apart-at-every-seam life, only one thing is needed; in my can’t-seem-to-muster-the-will-to-get-out-of-bed depression, only one thing is needed; in my sure-I’m-finally-going-crazy state of mind, only one thing is needed; in my so-mad-I’ve-got-to-throw-and-break-something anger, only one thing is needed. In the scorning and tormenting face of rejection or betrayal or failure or devastating news or disfiguring disease or the worst fears of my heart coming to pass, only one thing is needed—to come and sit at Jesus’ feet and listen to what He is saying.
To entrust myself to Him, to acknowledge His presence with me, to submit myself to His perfect authority over me, to just look at Him and recognize His all-surpassing worth, to feast on Him, to wait for Him to speak and know that He longs to do so more than I long to hear it, to meditate on His Word and speak it back to Him both in praise and request and to ask Him exactly what it means for me right now, to be ready to respond to Him in obedience and follow him wherever or however He leads, to be willing to tune out every competing voice no matter how well-intentioned and to say “No!” to whatever He has not called me to, to believe that He cares deeply and passionately for me both in His emotion toward me and in His personal tending of me, to see that the details of my life matter even more to Him than they do to me and that He holds every one of them in His hands and is perfectly directing them for intimacy and glory, to refuse to be drawn away or worried or upset by the many preparations and distractions all around me by casting every burden down before Him and taking up His all-sufficient grace for every need, and above all to want Him more than anything and to let everything else fit into that all-pervasive desire—this is the ONE THING that is needed both now and throughout every season of my life, and if I will choose it, it will not be taken from me. It is the one thing worth fighting to the death for and will, no doubt, require just such a dying again and again and again...
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 7:27 PM UTC
She needs no comparison,
My mom is simply the best!
Her food preparations,
Ah! The best chef ever.
My satisfied smiling face,
Is her biggest prize, she says.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 11:08 PM UTC
We made all possible preparations,
Drew up a list of firms,
Constantly revised our calculations
And allotted the farms,
Issued all the orders expedient
In this kind of case:
Most, as was expected, were obedient,
Though there were murmurs, of course;
Chiefly against our exercising
Our old right to abuse:
Even some sort of attempt at rising,
But these were mere boys.
For never serious misgiving
Occurred to anyone,
Since there could be no question of living
If we did not win.
The generally accepted view teaches
That there was no excuse,
Though in the light of recent researches
Many would find the cause
In a not uncommon form of terror;
Others, still more astute,
Point to possibilities of error
At the very start.
As for ourselves there is left remaining
Our honour at least,
And a reasonable chance of retaining
Our faculties to the last.
7.8k
Depression, is a concession of unstable chemicals made from the memories of cruel intentions,
My life is still here plodding along..
But only I hear the sound of my own thoughts like an annoying repetitive song.
I hear that little voice, calm down it says! stop filling your stupid head,
with anxiety a lack of self motivation and such a thing as recreation, only self interrogation and constant ************
I think of ways of ending it.. A rope around my neck?... or a cocktail of prescribed drugs?
I try to find help but no one is willing or the nhs has started billing,
I blame society and the burning of the bras,
things were simpler with our evolutionary past.
Nothing is moving I am stuck,
I feel useless and out of so called ambitious luck.
My patience is wearing and poignant preparations, is it really that necessary?
I just can't be fckd!
Move on, try again and again.
Run away!...
But financially there is no escape!
The cruel beatings,
the childhood ruined by my selfish relatives and a man I fell pregnant with.
Take away the memories..
please take them away before I cry the tears from the river of blood and pain.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
Up to the trees I go,
Further north where fresh water flows.
Travel preparations with my heart aching,
Home is where I’m free,
Left alone just to be.
Not in this gloomy place,
Not within this heat wave.
Like a pioneer,
I pack my bags,
Leaving behind the places I know,
In search of the places,
Where I’ll grow.
Jul 26, 2025
Jul 26, 2025 at 12:57 PM UTC
It is funny to see banners wishing Happiness displayed with cinematic glamour,
the pictures and hordings of Banner heroes.
The one at Tannery Road junction was peculiar to mention.
Here it was common
The captions "Happy" used to summon names of sundry festivals-Local and national, even internstional.
What's uncommon was the bold prints
of a hero's name ARUMALAI outshining
The caption and his larger than life picture establishing the photographer's digital brushing skills.
A passer by wondered who'd be this Arumalai,
Is he so great as to be advertised in polivynil?
His glorious deeds may be what they want you to heed
Still never ever seen or heard of his manners
Anywhere than in these motley banners
Just as a function
at the Tannery road junction
Each one passed by this colossal glance attracted provoking protracted ruminance what do this expensive banners really mean?
In another occasion
the glaring glorifying picture
of ARUMALAI followed the tag
Corporator,
Below the man posing a DICTATOR.
That was a period to a period of mystery!
Banners changed with seasons
with greetings on religious occasions
Festivals of importance
Birthdays of men even
with crowded profiles of hailers
Whose unrully manners
Too clogging up the banners
Like a wanted list of jailors.
One day a strange banner
hooked by the Tannery cross over
Spooked and shocked every passer-by
There the usual banner cut out
the larger than life image blings-out
Arumalai the BBMB corporator
Posing as dictator!
There was no wish of any kind.
It was a notice startling any mind
The sad demise of ARUMALAI
The BBMB corporator
Still possed as dectator
By his living promoters.
"He was sick and the local dispensary advised a minor operation.
He was administered
the necessary treatment.
Was referred to a super-speciality
centre and was declared dead.
His sad demise was advertised, he was forty.
His chummies complained of medical negligence", was the only news summary
in major news papers...
What was the reason for the minor surgery
What're the preparations
for the corporator's operation
All are mystery for a causal itinerary
passer by crossing over the Tannery Road junction, wondering at the strange envountering with banners
that come and go
Keeping no annals
Floating on the mind for a while
Stopping at the red's knell,
Moving with the green signal
The rise and fall of heroes
As binary one and zero
The banners tell a story tertiary
Of the rise and fall of a luninary
Within a plane ofmomentary
Variation of red and green
On the Tannery road's screen.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
*Between the night and daylight,
As twilight begins to shower,
Comes a lull in the day's preparations,
Cherished as the Kittys' Hour.
I hear in the kitchen beside me,
The patter of tiny feet,
Rumbles of varying motors
With "meow's" gentle and sweet.
Leaping from counter with agile grace
On my shoulder with a purr;
Sail grave Thomas and sweet Lady Jane,
And Susan of golden fur.
A "meow," and then a long silence,
I know by mischievous eyes,
They are scheming and musing together,
To vanquish my weary sighs.
With sudden dash from the hallway,
Tortie bounds into my arms!
Felines of all colours sit starring,
Delighting me with their charms.
Frolicking with skillful ease,
Tossing and batting their catnip-mouse;
If I run to escape, they surround me,
They appear to overflow the house.
Suffocating me with their kisses,
Furry paws patting my face;
And though they have torn the kitchen blinds,
They dazzle me with their grace.
I hug you all close in loving arms,
And will n'er let you depart,
Nor ****** you dears out to coyotes,
For you each have won my heart.
And here shall you dwell forever,
Cherished more each golden day;
Till this glad house fall into ruin,
And I in dust shall decay.*
~Hilda~
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 3:07 AM UTC
The Annual POCU Fashion Show held by the campus organization “People of Color United,” was held in the Student Activities Center on Saturday, April 18. The fashion show is the final activity of the year held by POCU. Junior Martell Prayear and senior Miranda Jackson were the show’s hosts and announcers.
The fashion show is a competition where various designers, or teams of designers, are required to create outfits that adhere to a general theme, but also incorporate the designer’s unique, personal concepts. This year, the general theme for the fashion show was: Thrift Shop. Each designer, or group of designers, was required to utilize clothes purchased from the local Goodwill and maintain a $50 budget. Preparations for the event, Jackson said, were very short. “I was really surprised how well it turned out, because we started practicing for the show at four o’clock that day,” Jackson said. “They typically start practicing way a head of time.” Despite the delayed preparation, the fashion show was an overall success. The first designer to present at the fashion show was Victoria Webster.
Webster’s fashion line was inspired by professional work attire. “I think it can be hard transitioning college wear into professional wear, on a budget,” Webster said of her outfits. Webster was able to find three models to wear the clothes, which she said was a combination of the model’s personal items, as well as those purchased through Goodwill. The second fashion line presented at the fashion show was designed by Iyana Lynch. For her personal theme, Lynch designed outfits that were inspired by the different seasons. The third designer to present that evening was Alyssa Nieset. Inspired by 90’s menswear, Nieset designed a line of androgynous outfits. The final clothing line presented was a team effort from: Jeanita Blue and Angel Powell.
Their theme was considered “90’s Reloaded,” and featured various throwbacks to 1990’s pop culture such as TLC and The Spice Girls. Blue said that most of the outfits in their fashion line were inspired by “eco-friendly fashion,” and were intended to decrease hesitation toward shopping at thrift stores. While the judges finalized the scores for each designer or team, the Urban Dance Association entertained the crowd with a quick performance. The judge’s scores resulted in a tie between Jeanita Blue & Angel Powell, and Iyana Lynch. Despite the general tie, Blue and Powell were awarded first place, while Lynch was granted second place. There was an off-campus reception held in Cleveland after the event. Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/purple-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/green-formal-dresses
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
Peak temperature water levels fake diagnoses white psychopaths starving hunger jingoism violence [systems that deprive us] guns entitlement shots fired accidents grief/mourning choking hazard corporate mascots corporate favoritism corporate bailouts corporate people ideology without monitor nationalism patriotism conservatives patriarchy murder-rape-suicide victim silence lack of conviction religious ********** false history infant mortality job insecurity invisible hands trickle down economics union busters corporate police brutal police evil police secret police debt bankruptcy foreclosure homelessness lost confused prisoner criminal banker war preparations propaganda ballots commercials advertisements campaigns money power puppets figureheads armies genocides **** bomb gas fire no survival violence wealthy lawyers assassinations heart complications death sleep.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
Start something with no desire and without much intention embedded
Like knitting fabric without thread
Collect the strands after the silk from the worm that hangs on the sleeve of the tree
Self-exploit
Seek capital and foster determination as much as possible
A moment of consciousness
What I am doing this time is not something easy
Some time to come will feel heavy and not for a moment
Dictate education and learning that must be boring
It is not easy to deepen what I have decided
But in other words
Choosing is a path that must be taken by anyone
Regardless of what and how the choice is made
Of course the greatest consequence is to accept and run everything with the best treatment
Choosing does not mean losing one thing to another
But choosing is the form and attitude in determining the way to achieve something
Although there will be a lot of opposition and even rejection within
It is not the end
Make every difficult thing a whip
And what feels easy
Becomes the power to fulfill the difficult
For what will happen in the future
All attitudes and treatment must be embedded from this moment
Having chosen is courageous
Ready to live and wrestle all the races and obstacles ahead
So far
All new preparations have been collected
While walking slowly
Follow the directions and learn to read nature
What I have started
One day
I have to reap
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:44 PM UTC
I approached my *****
The tender charisma of something unholy haunted
Carved with my fingertips
the sacred verses
While my temple anointed fresh basins
Preparations waining
an exorcism
Chanted through pulsing
Pressure to release haunts
Hours of screams
Days of lusting
For the body that no longer begs
Wants
Where I birthed an age
Without your dark haze embedded in the sides of my rib cage
Allowed new lovers to taste
The fresh fruit
I no longer hollowed out
Begs of you
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC
Under his mighty authority, he sent forth a pair of spies
Hidden by a harlot they now became Joshua’s eyes.
Saving her and all that she has for what she hath done
Later when they come to burn down the city
Her and her family will be spared, there the only one.
Assembling a band of seven priest’s in those strange lands
He’s ordering them to encompass and circle the city
While carrying the Ark of Covenant in their holy hands.
Preparations now begin for a symphony of destruction
it is for all the other inhabitants, due to all the corruption.
Commanded until the appointed time to remain in silence
After that, scream and shout loud with ragging violence.
Marching with the trumpets at their side and on their hips
It’s the seventh day, and now, they must make seven trips.
The walls then came crumbling down,
After they blew through those ram horns with their lips.
Taking there treasures, the spoils of war...
They took it for the Lord's treasury,
That is who they took it for.
AMEN
(SirCARSr. 11-25-13)
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
when he died, his jackets all went
to the grandkids (world-war-two-chic was
en vogue), his medals to his sons, and his
meticulous preparations for any far-off
hurricane, blizzard, fabled connecticut sandstorm,
power outage, overheating engine,
skinned knee
to the big and elegant dumpster.
his wife in her heels-for-every-occasion, in her
quiet knowing
languages and recipes and birdseed
loved him even after she forgot his name
and hers.
they built this house bare-handed
and in the shade of the trees
and spiders and cell-phone towers
it will stand as ever
it always has.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 11:25 PM UTC
Preparations
For Love and Destruction
Volatile environments
Whose inhabitants
Distract inhibitions
By enacting emotional exhibitions
Fueled by liquid fire
.Injection.
Fluid spirits
Energize the soul
Chemically reacting to stress
Freeing the hostages
Housed inside the hostile hospice
Of hearts
.Ejection.
Nature’s neutrality
Doesn’t do much
For this current
Wave
Of Lust and Frustration
So,
Lo and Behold
The solo soul below
Who bellows
In the belly of beasts
Like growls
That grows into speech
As I transform from
Animal to Anomaly
Asking for the one thing
That will keep me
From the answer
.Rejection.
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
Going Off To War (a/k/a Washing The Dishes)
When its time to wash the dishes,
I make proper preparations for this serious business,
I strip down to my skivvies (shorts, in a prior generation)
Cause there will plenty blood and gore afore too long
Soap and water flying about, the ceilings and the walls,
Not to mention big, big puddles on the floor.
Multi-colored sponges of sizes varied,
Some Brillo-sided, like extra armor on a tank,
By Dawn's early light, turn the clear water
Into a heaving, breathing soapy concoction.
Woebegone and woe betide, dried and sticky maple syrup,
You are no match for super-strength orange dishwashing solution,
Of the Greeks did praise, a single dollop packs a mighty wallop!
Ain't afraid of any stain, decomposing, half chewed, culinary rejection.
Don't even bother with rubber gloves, cause that's for sissies.
The dirtier the better, cause I love the sounds of
All out war, the rushing water, the futile screams of
Grease departing this world, down the rabbit hole,
My gleaming, victorious sinking of the enemy shipping
You think I am the first to celebrate in verse
This storied fight of right over dirt?
Recall please this famed couplet, for now be known its true inspiration!
"Oh, say can you see by the Dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?"
Though Men Like to Load the Dishwasher (You Didn't Know?)
Is another poem of a similar ilk, when technology is unavailable,
It is fact verifiable and unassailable,
That if you give a man some room and some privacy,
Ignore the shouts and war cries from the kitchen emanating,
Male aggression can best be expiated,
When playing war games in the kitchen, a live action movie,
A video game that never grows tiresome,
And violence is necessary, for the enemy's complete annihilation.
Thank you my dear, no medal need be awarded,
Scored this poem as my just reward.
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
(on a Black Saturday)
Sun beams touch the lustrous shells of
the capiz chime, dazzling the eyes and mind,
the walls on both sides of the big window are
newly painted, immaculately white, so bright,
....the pink blooms of the bougainvillea,
humbly bowed for almost two weeks now,
have turned to a faded brown.......wilting...
the strange nest had fallen, and gone
the young of the yellow green-breasted birds
have grown, flown away...all have found
............other trees to perch on
the sweet sop tree quivers
from its heavy fruits and birds on branches
enjoying their meal of fruits...ripe and juicy,
leaving some for the bats at night
a striped yellow cat rests on a shaded part
of the roof...i patiently wait for daddy long legs
to come out from the gutter...but in vain...
...paint still wet?...scent too strong, maybe?
maybe, the gravel and pebbles on the ground
weigh too much...did i unknowingly bury them?
i am missing the spectacle of an earthworm,
..........emerging from under the soil
big ants are restless...driven out...roaming,
the bricked wall's natural tan-beige shade
has surfaced...concrete wall is too hot...
these bricks, must be repainted white, as well
the ants, the spiders, the earthworms,
the bats, make their own preparations,
why can't we human beings do the same?
we prefer to suffer the consequences, and
deal with the results of unpreparedness:
el nino, earthquakes, unwanted people,
la nina, unexpected decisions, unwanted
changes...and all sorts of crazy "uns,"
townhouses have risen on my street
strange faces of new neighbors
......pass me by...
......as i write...
the worst heat of summer is yet to come...
Sally
Copyright April 15, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 3:06 AM UTC
Preparations are gearing up for the iD Dunedin Fashion Show, which this year opens with a tribute to Australasian style on Anzac weekend.
The 120m-long platform of Dunedin's railway station is again the venue for shows on April 24 and 25, which are preceded by the iD International Emerging Designer Awards on Thursday night at the Town Hall.
Saturday night is sold out and about 100 tickets are still available to Friday's show, organisers say.
Labels Carlson, Mild-Red and NOM*d, brands synonymous with Dunedin fashion, were in the original show in a local bar in 2000 and they're still show stalwarts.
Company of Strangers, Charmaine Reveley, DADA Vintage, Storm, Perriam, Deval, GG (from Shanghai), Liann Bellis, BEATS clothing, Jason Lingard and Jane Sutherland are also strutting their stuff this year.
The shows open with a section titled Together Alone, Revisited, put together by Doris De Pont, featuring garments by four New Zealand and three Australian designers shown at an exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria in 2009.
International guest judge Doris Raymond, the star of documentary series LA Frockstars, is also bringing some garments with her for the show.
The owner of vintage emporium The Way We Wore has a fabulous collection of outfits and she will talk about them at an event in the city on Friday.
Six fashion graduate designers from the Otago Polytechnic School of Design will also show their collections in the shows on Friday and Saturday night.
Garments made by the winner of the emerging designer awards are also in the show.
The finalists were selected from nearly 100 entries from seven countries and 14 fashion schools.
There's a strong showing from Australian schools, especially from Sydney, says judge Tanya Carlson.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
By Arcassin and Elizabeth
ES - every year they adorn
our family Christmas tree,
bright baubles
inscribed with a special
persons name
mummy
daddy
sis
and bro
these wonderful members
of our loving home,
AB - simulating ornaments on
The tree,
And Santa's preparations to sneak
In homes,
Christmas eves hour,
May have been filled with so much joy,
For toys,
And things,
And laughs,
Next year,
along with happiness,
Just like this one,
Will be most grand at its finest.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
Sore’ us
Ooze
‘da poor ‘ust ones
Black scotch and de’wars
**** ‘um is fin’er
As I run from life
‘a from any at all.
‘dis ain’t ‘dey party
Fa’ de’ parted departing
It’s just ‘dey way
Of getting ‘duh deed done
It’s not mystery
Nor ‘duh chance.
See?
Pure despair
‘nings discernment
Evils low ruse
Vindictive benedictions
Pleasures ease
Smell’s clear
While here
Something’s sick
’nings’ fatale
‘ah a‘traction
Sum treacherous torture
Of sentenced de jour…
Jeer’us!
Infectious disease’us
Runnin’ rampant
Of spells complete
Consumption ‘us
Divergin’ opinions ring
Must be sick ’o
Is pathetic delusion ’o
Imagine
Is just imagining
Flashbacks of ole
Smackums’ hymn
Kind’a makes me laugh
But truth is too
Much to rash
That woman’s
Complete
Abusive…
Trash!
Got the world?
Or her wrath
Taken out the best…
Mother Natures Son
Everything he cares for
His family and chill
‘da heir
‘dey run
Only pain and death‘ eruption
Ultimate relentless destruction
Her kind of fun
Yeh ‘dey disorder of disorders
Kin‘da be a gun
Yud luve to be swift
For such ‘da gift
That takes you from ‘dat world
She’s so horrid
From hell they’d tried to bar ‘er
They’d hope to have starv’n out her
But souls she’s quick devour’n
Takes you out
To bear pain upon ya’
Despair, would you’ve joy
Preparations of
Desperations…
She’s suicide!
She’ll get ya on her dream sensations
Thee unforgivable debts
War crimes kinda’
You’ve got comin’
Lest her best compensations
U’d try n try to escape
Marked for pain
Marked not to make it
As prey unto desolations
Of the desperate
And ultimate violations
(She is Suicide
Kind’a be a gun)
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
Upon a mountain in some older days
there lived an aging dragon
He lived in a cave so near yet so far
that if could not be reached by wagon.
Now, the dragon guarded something so special
it was not yet known to you or me
So many before tried to find it
and none had succeeded, but that didn't
stop ol' Mack McGhee.
Ol' Mack was no thing of beauty
but he was strong in his middle age
He had a personality so greedy and cocky
that he really had no personal gauge.
He wanted what the dragon hid
though what it was, he did not know
So one fine day he set out on a journey
no preparations--he just wanted to go.
Well the first day was fine and so was the next
but on the third, he began to tire
So ol' Mack sat down in the dust and heat
and he made himself a fire.
He soon fell asleep under a sea of stars
seeing as the following day, he had to walk more
He'd get to the dragon, he knew he would
even though the walk was becoming a bore.
The next day he awoke to the blazing sun
burning his ugly face
So he arose and began to walk,
looking for a shaded place.
Ol' Mack pressed through the desert
and soon he came to the mountain
There was shade, it was an oasis
there was even water bubbling in a natural fountain.
He wondered if this was it,
"Is this what the dragon is hiding?
If this is it, it was far too easy.
My time I was certainly biding."
He decided it wasn't enough,
he'd have to climb to the top to find
the treasure that the dragon was hoarding
the very thing he couldn't keep from his mind.
So he climbed and he climbed for hours
and finally he reached the cave
"Oh, good," he thought, "I can finally rest.
I feel like I've been climbing for days."
"WHO GOES THERE?" boomed the dragon
"It is I," answered Mack, "I've come to get your treasure!"
"The thing that I guard is behind that rock," said the dragon,
"I'm not sure it's treasure by your measure."
"I'm sure it is," said Mack
and he ran behind the rock
What there he saw was so simple and plain
that it came as quite a shock.
Behind the rock on the wall of the cave
was the phrase "Be impeccable with your word."
"That's it?!" exclaimed Mack, "there has to be more.
I came all the way just for that? This is absurd."
"That it may be," said the dragon, old and wise
*"but it's a phrase to be held true by sinners.
And now, because you are one of them,
I must eat you for dinner."*
And he did.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 2:09 AM UTC
I have no doubt
that I have seen
what it means to love.
all my life it has surrounded me,
the aura and the action
both entwined as one
divinely-fueled
activity -
both the savor and the sacrifice
of love.
Mother, father,
hear a son rejoicing in the magic
of your love
for me, for all the children
(and their offspring, too)
but more - much more than that,
the love you celebrate today
as man and wife united
in the pattern of Christ's love.
Today is a day of memories,
memories that only two
can share,
memories that span for longer
than the days I've walked
this earth;
memories of love's first gentle stirring,
in the blush of tender youth,
when sweethearts stood with beating
hearts, and eyes spoke more than
words;
memories of longing to break down the miles
between,
to close the distance, holding close,
let come whatever will...
memories of certainty, of love's sweet, calm assurance
in the moment that you knew
without a shadow's doubt
that
"I will always love you"
memories of rings and things, of wedding
preparations,
of whirlwind moments bringing every
detail into orbit;
memories of love itself, the tender,
sweet communion
blessed by God above and fruitful
beyond what man can tell;
memories of love maturing, growing
as you grew,
memories of memories, of standing
strong and true...
these memories are yours alone,
the precious bond you share,
the sacrifice of willingness,
to live for more than you.
Mother, father,
hear a son rejoicing in the magic
of your love
in the strong and steady sacrifice
you've lived out day by day;
one for the other, the other for the one,
and both in heart united
as you seek and serve
the One.
Mother.
Father.
Today you remember the past,
rejoice in the present,
and hope for the future;
and I, from the outside looking in, on lives
so, so well-lived...
...I weep the joyous tears of one who
sees the Savior
in your love.
May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 9:15 PM UTC
When you die
People you will have never met
will give your family condolences
When you die
Spurned former lovers will
send delicate flowers
When you die
People will be summoned to
make you look beautiful
The way that you felt on nights
you enjoyed being yourself the most
When you die
Cautious children will cry
without ever learning
of your conflicting views on children
When you die
They might hang the church wall
with pictures of weddings
and graduations
When you die
You may not be alone
When you die
You might be the first and
the others will all follow
Having made no preparations of their own.
When you die
They might play your favorite song
or they might play a more "appropriate" song
as they lead you away
and some people will be scolding themselves
about forgetting where they parked
When you die
They may have forgotten that you didn't
believe in the afterlife
Quotations from Leviticus notwithstanding
When you die
You could be the the one who made
the most important impact on your daughter or son's life
You might have their life worth living
When you die
It may be to no applause
When you die
It may inspire your mother's gynecologist
to visit a church for the first time in almost half a decade
and feel genuine empathy for the rituals of human dignity
regardless of the tribe
When you die
none of your siblings may attend
the rain might pore on your last parade
and people might go home early
When you die
Everybody may just have a great time
heads beaming, shoulders high
When you die
It might be the longest day of Summer
with waterfights in the park near you were born.
When you die
You will have lived to see
all your ambitions come alive
Even if that penpusher "Reality"
explicitly states otherwise.
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
for those whose mothers are no more
the annual business hype of what to give
and where to take your mother
is but a sad remembrance of loss
stirring up memories of happier times
when she was still a pillar in your universe
loved and revered, and sometimes feared,
who taught you, patiently or not,
the basics of survival in your expanding world.
She knew, while you were as yet unaware
that all her loving preparations
would over time mean separation.
When you struck out to shape your life
all by yourself and left her with her fears for you,
her wishes, and the hopes that what she tried
to give you was enough and right,
your heart and mind were elsewhere, far away,
focused upon the future of your independent life.
Your years run fast and busy, and suddenly one day
you stand before her coffin
and discover that it is too late
for all the questions never asked.
What you have left are memories
and a vague sense of having missed the chance
to see - and maybe even understand a little -
the woman she has also been
throughout her life, behind her loving face
of a dear mother’s care and grace.
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 7:25 PM UTC
for those whose mothers are no more
the annual business hype of what to give
and where to take your mother
is but a sad remembrance of loss
stirring up memories of happier times
when she was still a pillar in your universe
loved and revered, and sometimes feared,
who taught you, patiently or not,
the basics of survival in your expanding world.
She knew, while you were as yet unaware
that all her loving preparations
would over time mean separation.
When you struck out to shape your life
all by yourself and left her with her fears for you,
her wishes, and the hopes that what she tried
to give you was enough and right,
your heart and mind were elsewhere, far away,
focused upon the future of your independent life.
Your years run fast and busy, and suddenly one day
you stand before her coffin
and discover that it is too late
for all the questions never asked.
What you have left are memories
and a vague sense of having missed the chance
to see - and maybe even understand a little -
the woman she has also been
throughout her life, behind her loving face
of a dear mother’s care and grace.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 4:06 PM UTC