Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Driving Miss Lonely

















I picked her up at the Charlottesville train station,
mid-seventies, small, frail,
long sleeve jacket and floppy brim hat,
even though it was close to ninety;
I knew she was going to make me
earn my money;
I could feel her disdainful stare from behind the over-sized sun glasses
as I pulled up to the loading area,
I got the impression she wanted to pummel me with her cane
for being two minutes past the scheduled pick-up time,
she stood and waited until I finally got out of the car,
I tried to be cordial as I put her bag in the trunk,
she didn’t say a word as she waited for me to open the door for her,
I assumed she would want to sit in the back,
but when I started to open the rear door she made a
disappointing “oh” sound, indicating she would prefer to sit up front,
so I opened the front door and she got in;
somehow I had become her private chauffer;
once she was satisfied my driving skills were competent
she began talking, I listened,
it was going to be a long ride from Charlottesville to Lexington;
“do you know what my pet peeve is ?” she asked,
before I could reply she answered,
“grammar, people don’t know how to properly write
or speak today, it is a lost art;”
seems she had once been an editor, with a masters degree
in writing, and she was appalled by today’s lack of
education when it came to writing,
she was returning from a trip to Washington D.C.,
where she had visited the holocaust museum,
she told me that she had once visited the home of Anne Frank
in Amsterdam with her ex-husband,
who had been college professor at Washington & Lee,
seems he was a liar, who had cheated on her throughout their marriage,
when the kids were out of the house she told him they were through,
she just couldn’t take it any more,
she told me about her PhD children and her brilliant grandchildren,
I asked if she ever wrote or edited poetry,
a little she replied, but it was ‘personal’ and she would never have it
published;
‘isn’t all poetry personal’ I thought to myself but remained quiet;
she told me she was working on a play,
how writing plays had become her new passion,
that one of her plays had been performed off-Broadway,
when I asked her if she worked with the drama department
at Washington & Lee she scoffed;
“I’ve seen some of their recent works and they weren’t very good,
they used to have an excellent drama department, but its gone
downhill;”
she then proceeded to tell me more details from her entire life,
the messy divorce,
the children she rarely saw,
the grandchildren she barely knew,
listening, I realized she was a tired, bitter, lonely old woman,
with no one in her life but equally tired cab drivers,
and others she managed to turn into her private servants;
when we got to Lexington,
I carried her bag up to her third floor apartment,
she thanked me and gave me a twenty dollar tip;
I think it was much cheaper than therapy.
.

.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Where Now America?
















where now
America?
your playgrounds and sandlots
lie empty,
your youth grow tired and disillusioned,
hanging out at the mall,
gathering in clumps and clusters,
wearing hundred dollar rags,
wrapped up in coolness,
struggling to be ghetto,
jaded with knowledge,
dripping with sarcasm;
nobody’s fool;
ice flowing through their veins,
filth dripping from their lips,
incapable of genuine laughter,
void of dreams,
growing old before their time;
farm boys from south jersey,
full of TV bravado and
James Dean machismo,
daddy’s good little girls,
playing MTV hoes,
busy being
trash talking lil bitch wannabes,
joking about
giving blowjobs for a dollar;
generation X,
childhood gone,
innocence lost
forever;
where now
America?
where now?
.

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Holy Words




















caught up in the moment,
lost in the confusion and chaos,
surrounded by a ruthless enemy,
I take shelter in Your protective arms,
within the silence and solitude
of the long black night,
I seek Your righteous counsel;
guide my path O Lord,
direct my wavering hand,
let all who see my life
know the beauty and wonder
of Your marvelous mercy and grace;
do this for Your glory my Lord,
do this for Your mighty name;
who am I,
that You should pour out Your blessings?
who am I,
that You should see my life?
There is a way that seems right to a man,
but in the end it leads to death.   Proverbs 16:25
all my thoughts,
all my knowledge,
all my righteousness,
are but filthy rags
before Your mighty presence;
“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways My ways,”
declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are My ways higher than your ways
and My thoughts than your thoughts.”   Isaiah 55:8-9
praise You my precious Lord,
for Your marvelous, glorious light,
for Your holy words of wisdom and truth,
which shine like rare and wondrous pearls.
.

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Dark Days



















Thus saith the LORD, thy redeemer, and he that formed thee from the womb, I am the LORD that maketh all things; that stretcheth forth the heavens alone; that spreadeth abroad the earth by myself; That frustrateth the tokens of the liars, and maketh diviners mad; that turneth wise men backward, and maketh their knowledge foolish;   Isaiah 44:24-25
today was a dark day;
rainy and cloudy,
windy and cold;
gloomy and sinister;
it felt like there was
something I needed to do,
but I didn’t know what,
sometimes it feels
as though this is the
story of my life;
dark days and
not knowing what
to do;
I saw a specialist yesterday
about my herniated disk,
he suggested trying a nerve block
to relieve the pain,
he doesn’t know if it will work,
but it beats the alternatives,
more surgery,
so I’m going to go with it;
I watched a show about Hitler
on the military channel,
it was about his rise to power
and the extraordinary events
that made it happen,
it almost seemed supernatural,
which is exactly what it was;
monsters like him
only exist because God allows it;
while watching the thought occurred
that perhaps his whole purpose (Hitler),
was to put the Jewish people
through a great refining trial,
a test,
before being allowed
to return to their ancient homeland,
it made me wonder if perhaps
the whole purpose of America
becoming a nation
almost 200 years earlier,
was to make it possible
for Hitler’s eventual defeat,
and pave the way
for God’s chosen people
to return to their promised land,
just like perhaps,
the purpose of the Roman Empire
was to create the necessary circumstances,
through which a 700 year old prophecy
that the Messiah would die on a tree
could be fulfilled,
and that the news of His resurrection
could be spread through the known world of the time,
by the technology of Roman roads
and transportation systems;
perhaps?
of course, I’m sure
scholars and experts
much wiser than I,
would laugh at such a notion,
but then it wouldn’t be
the first time God has used seemingly
unrelated and unimaginable plans,
to confound the wise and knowledgeable;
would it?
who would have believed
that a rag-tag band of uneducated,
fishermen and peasants,
would confound and confuse
the wise men of their day,
witnessing and testifying
to the greatest event
in the history of mankind?
who could have imagined it?
.

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Not Even a Sparrow



















Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God? But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.   Luke 12:6-7
Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.   John 1:12-13
in the morning
Your voice softly speaks,
telling me not to fear,
bringing peace
to my troubled mind,
removing the chaos and confusion,
lighting up the darkness,
proving that You are real,
reminding me that You see
everything I do,
that not even a sparrow falls
without Your knowledge,
and that I am worth more
than many sparrows;
praise you Lord;
help me overcome
the spiritual darkness,
help me remember
that the arrogance and hypocrisy
of others will pass,
help me turn the other cheek
when I am attacked,
silence my lips before they utter
foolish words of vanity and evil,
teach me to control this flesh,
seeking only self-fulfillment
and self-preservation,
remove anything
that is not of You
let others see You through me;
let me be a son
of the living God.
.

.

A Long Road


















I think I am ready,
it has been a long road,
full of humiliation and degradation,
holding back at the hypocrisy,
turning the other cheek to the self-righteous,
babbling of fools,
remaining silent in the face of man-made
knowledge and wisdom;
it has been a long road;
I hear Your voice,
softly calling
in the middle of the night,
asking if I am ready
to let go,
asking if I am ready
to follow;
and yes,
this time I think
I am finally ready;
Lord, stay with me now,
stay with me forever,
reach out and touch me
with Your blessed hand,
heal my wounds,
forgive my transgressions,
open my eyes,
fill me with Your light,
guide my paths,
overflow my cup,
restore my soul;
bring me home to You.
.

.

Power


















For the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power. I Corinthians 4:20
Your power is beyond all
this world can comprehend,
like a philosophy or psychology
they try to minimize who You really are,
sweeping You under man-made rugs,
placing You inside man-made boxes,
trying to restrain You with man-made
laws and traditions,
never understanding,
never knowing,
never able to fully acknowledge,
that everything they are,
everything they know,
exists only by Your
unfathomable mercy and grace,
through the unlimited power
of Your Word alone,
that every breath taken is a gift,
which can never be repaid;
through Your power
I am given a taste of a world
free from sin,
a world of love and hope,
stripped of all its suffering and fear;
without hate,
without lust,
without greed;
through Your power
I begin to understand,
through the Holy Spirit
I start to see,
a world which my mind
cannot fully grasp,
an indescribable place
prepared from the beginning
for those who love You,
a world that leaves me humbled,
perfect and pure,
beyond words,
without compare,
a world where I can only
fall down before You
and whisper;
my Lord,
my Master,
my King;
my Everything.
.

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