Poetry is a state which catches me off guard,
in some corner of time,
between the shadows of a slow Sunday
and the nameless light of an empty street.
It doesn't come from a book or from a dream;
it rather comes with the subtle echo of days
and the quiet touch of hours—
a way the universe might reveal somehow
in its nakedness, within its fissures.
a whisper of itself: of the invisible.
I don't know how I can express what I feel,
or how to name it.
In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
life watches from the shadow
And the stars go squawking
but Life remains a blessing
No winter without a spring
beyond the dark horizon a brighter day
For those who leave us for a while
Out of a restless, care worn world
Our hearts will once more sing
a sun will always sing
and a sky will carry our heart into stars.
Love, a little church that standing all alone,
waits with open doors,
but nobody goes there to pray,
the prayers will go unsaid,
now, where to go? which way?
love, be my beacon,
teach me to look at an empty sky
without fear.
Love, a little church that standing all alone,
waits with open doors,
but nobody goes there to pray,
the prayers will go unsaid, now, where to go?
which way? love, be my beacon,
teach me to look at an empty sky without fear.
There is a land by faith I’ve seen
Where skies no clouded regions know;
Where they know not the sorrows of time
and no shadows fall to blight the view
That land no want has ever known,
Nor pain nor sickness nor distress;
there, Death, the last enemy, is slain;
There those who meet shall part no more,
And those long parted meet again.
There’s a land far away..
Beyond these wild winds and gloomy skies,
Beyond Death’s cloudy portal,
There is a land where beauty never dies
And love becomes immortal;
These are poems about God, Jesus Christ, the Bible, the Christian religion, and religion in general.
Enough!
by Michael R. Burch
It’s not that I don’t want to die;
I shall be glad to go.
Enough of diabetes pie,
and eating sickly crow!
Enough of win and place and show.
Enough of endless woe!
Enough of suffering and vice!
I’ve said it once;
I’ll say it twice:
I shall be glad to go.
i’m looking for the face i had before the world was made
I was the primordial flaring forth, the gravitational waves,
the whirling galaxies, and the exploding supernovas that would become stars and planets.
I was the steaming planet Earth, the bacteria awash in the sea, and the early eukaryotes and multicellular animals.
I exploded in the Cambrian explosion, stumbled onto land, walked with dinosaurs,
saw trees and flowers appear, walked upright in Africa, and walked on the moon.
Listen, if stars are still lit it means there is someone who needs them.
It means someone wants to love,
Why then do we feel so much pain and heaviness of heart?
are we waiting for something, regretting anything?
To whom I can strech out my hand in the somber desert ?
Who will accompany me on the empty night?
Who will give me a fiery day?
Who will bring back the sea that left?
No hope here. Torment is certain.
Without sacredness in the emptiness of this world of ours,
the heart of man fades like a flower.
Consider all the lust for life
that makes you want to sing,
and all the loss and compromise
that being human brings;
not to mention all your injuries,
the piercings and the stings.
And while we’re in reflective mood
let’s think of what might be …
I want to apologize for all the times I shamed you or played a role in your hurt
