Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

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Just a poem for my creative writing class

July 20, 2011

These next few blog posts are my attempt at creative writing. I am heading toward finals week and thought I might share some of my writing. This was to the question, “What literary tools does the poet use to turn words into emotions, sounds, and images?” See if you can name a few of them.

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Tools of a poet
When a poet writes a poem of writ,
The poet will use many tools to express such wit.
They may reach; and build; expectation,
Just by using punctuation.
The poet will also use metaphor,
As a cape on a matador.
The poet may take an abstract idea,
And mold it into a beautiful flower.
The creaking of a door will make you think that,
Is the same as sound from an old man’s back.
The poet’s job is the greatest of role,
Though that may be a bit of hyperbole.
Though some may be Wilde and a naughty heathen,
It has been decided all poets are angels fallen from heaven.
For the salvation or loss of men’s souls,
Are held in the hands of the poet’s prose.
May I be such to associate when?
The poets of old pass on their pen?
To sing on a page like the late Freddy Mercury,
To splash with the pen the ink of victory!
To rise to it all with gallant expression,
To give heart to my own inner confession.
One needs not a priest when sin does arise,
For the poet’s heart is far from disguised.
Being it frozen like Poe in Dante’s cold hell,
Or expanded three sizes like Grinche’s heart, as Suess does tell.
The poet can speak in ear splitting silence,
All the while be like the neighbor who screams “Hello!” over the fence.
These tools may be as faint as speck,
They may even be bolder than one might expect.
Yet with these tools of trade,
The poem of a poet is wonderfully made.
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TO SCATTER FLOWERS

November 16, 2009
To Scatter Flowers
O Jesus! O my Love! each eve I come to fling
My springtide roses sweet before Thy Cross divine;
By their plucked petals fair, my hands so gladly bring,
I long to dry Thine every tear!
To scatter flowers!—that means each sacrifice:
My lightest sighs and pains, my heaviest, saddest hours,
My hopes, my joys, my prayers—I will not count the price—
Behold my flowers!
With deep untold delight Thy beauty fills my soul,
Would I might light this love in hearts of all who live!
For this, my fairest flowers, all things in my control,
How fondly, gladly would I give!
To scatter flowers!—behold my chosen sword
For saving sinners’ souls and filling Heaven’s bowers:
The victory is mine—yea, I disarm Thee, Lord,
With these my flowers!
The petals in their flight caress Thy Holy Face;
They tell Thee that my heart is Thine, and Thine alone.
Thou knowest what these leaves are saying in my place:
On me Thou smilest from Thy Throne.
To scatter flowers!—that means, to speak of Thee—
My only pleasure here, where tears fill all the hours;
But soon, with Angel Hosts, my spirit shall be free
To scatter flowers.
June 28, 1896.

________________________________________

http://www.ccel.org/ccel/therese/autobio.xxxii.iv.html

From: ST. THÉRÈSE OF LISIEUX

THE STORY OF A SOUL (L’HISTOIRE D’UNE ÂME):
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ST. THÉRÈSE OF LISIEUX

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A poem: Entering Heaven

October 15, 2009

I was shocked, confused, bewildered

As I entered Heaven’s door,

Not by the beauty of it all,

Nor the lights or its decor.

But it was the folks in Heaven

Who made me sputter and gasp–

The thieves, the liars, the sinners,

The alcoholics and the trash.

There stood the kid from seventh grade

Who swiped my lunch money twice.

Next to him was my old neighbor

Who never said anything nice.

Herb, who I always thought

Was rotting away in hell,

Was sitting pretty on cloud nine,

Looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus, “What’s the deal?

I would love to hear Your take.

How’d all these sinners get up here?

God must’ve made a mistake.

“And why’s everyone so quiet,

So somber – give me a clue.”

“Hush, child,” He said, “they’re all in shock.

No one thought they’d be seeing you.”

Author Unknown

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A Cry in the wilderness….

April 21, 2009

A Cry in the wilderness….

A depression embraces you like a warm blanket keeping out the cold of the world you fear.

As we drink from the swill of life hoping it will keep you refreshed only to find our tongue is as dry as the desert air.

Despair curls up in your lap like a cat giving comfort, only to steal your life’s breath away as you sleep…

Left bleeding by the side of the rode as those who are called to love you walks by…

Redemption draws near, as your bones crumble to dust only to sneer and jeer at your pain.

Is it really redemption for you who suffer or those who should care and don’t?

Does forgiveness rise in the horizon only to become a mirage?

Do our cries go unheard because we refuse to hear or do we fear we are so close to being like the people we are called to love?

We take in our pets and love them as children, yet let children starve and die.

We buy our desires and love our own riches yet others only desire their basic needs met.

We are taught to fish and should teach others, yet draw out nets to feed only those who can pay.

We meet those who greet us as brothers and tell them to go away.

We chew on the bones of innocence and call it freedom.

We grab freedom for some and choke the life out of others so we can watch reality TV.

We choke on our own fear of losing our soul, yet reject redemption so near.

When is a song not a song and a poem not a poem?

What if our meter is lost and our rhymes do not rhyme?

When does communion with God become a sick joke to some?

When does the Truth become a lie to harm others?

How long do we sing this song, when there are no words but groans?

How long do we let suffering win and let hate be the victor?

I am not sure if those who claim to know… know…

I am not sure those who claim to love… love…

I am not sure that those who claim salvation have yet saved themselves…

I am sure of my faults, my sin, my unbelief… Lord, help me in my unbelief.

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A Cry in the wilderness….

April 21, 2009

A Cry in the wilderness….

A depression embraces you like a warm blanket keeping out the cold of the world you fear.

As we drink from the swill of life hoping it will keep you refreshed only to find our tongue is as dry as the desert air.

Despair curls up in your lap like a cat giving comfort, only to steal your life’s breath away as you sleep…

Left bleeding by the side of the rode as those who are called to love you walks by…

Redemption draws near, as your bones crumble to dust only to sneer and jeer at your pain.

Is it really redemption for you who suffer or those who should care and don’t?

Does forgiveness rise in the horizon only to become a mirage?

Do our cries go unheard because we refuse to hear or do we fear we are so close to being like the people we are called to love?

We take in our pets and love them as children, yet let children starve and die.

We buy our desires and love our own riches yet others only desire their basic needs met.

We are taught to fish and should teach others, yet draw out nets to feed only those who can pay.

We meet those who greet us as brothers and tell them to go away.

We chew on the bones of innocence and call it freedom.

We grab freedom for some and choke the life out of others so we can watch reality TV.

We choke on our own fear of losing our soul, yet reject redemption so near.

When is a song not a song and a poem not a poem?

What if our meter is lost and our rhymes do not rhyme?

When does communion with God become a sick joke to some?

When does the Truth become a lie to harm others?

How long do we sing this song, when there are no words but groans?

How long do we let suffering win and let hate be the victor?

I am not sure if those who claim to know… know…

I am not sure those who claim to love… love…

I am not sure that those who claim salvation have yet saved themselves…

I am sure of my faults, my sin, my unbelief… Lord, help me in my unbelief.

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A Psalm for Kevin…

April 21, 2009

A Psalm for Kevin…

Write Kevin, write; release the dark soul of the night,
The pain deep within that you hide with a grin,
The fear we all share, and wonder who cares.

Write Kevin, write; release the dark soul of the night,
When your children cry and no comfort is found,
When all who we love are no where around,

Write Kevin, write; release you inner light,
The Light we all fear in to far or too near,
The Light that guides us even though….

Tears, fears, and a weary heart,
When hugs from friends are not enough,
When we find trust has begun to rust…
When the knot we tied is not enough….

Write Kevin write; release the bonds that hold you,
Grease the rope you hold thinking it secures you…
Write so that we all know we are all the same in His eyes…

Many forsake us on our way home,
Many will not seek to follow where we roam
They gather the moss and we follow the Call
So write Kevin… write…

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A Psalm for Kevin…

April 21, 2009

A Psalm for Kevin…

Write Kevin, write; release the dark soul of the night,
The pain deep within that you hide with a grin,
The fear we all share, and wonder who cares.

Write Kevin, write; release the dark soul of the night,
When your children cry and no comfort is found,
When all who we love are no where around,

Write Kevin, write; release you inner light,
The Light we all fear in to far or too near,
The Light that guides us even though….

Tears, fears, and a weary heart,
When hugs from friends are not enough,
When we find trust has begun to rust…
When the knot we tied is not enough….

Write Kevin write; release the bonds that hold you,
Grease the rope you hold thinking it secures you…
Write so that we all know we are all the same in His eyes…

Many forsake us on our way home,
Many will not seek to follow where we roam
They gather the moss and we follow the Call
So write Kevin… write…