For Contest

At the edges of the universe
life’s boundaries are found.

We look farther into the unknown days and nights,
challenge our own standards
then go farther, to find the atmosphere.
We please His heart and eyes
for joy is our fuel source.
How many stars will blind us?
Never will our minds travel at the speed of light,
yet mankind evolves
with each meter of dark matter we explore.
We have no gravity or foot hold at all
except the craft that He,
the King of the universe,
has provided to carry us.
We are shielded from full glory
of strength and complexity
but will forever be discovering victory.

I’m have some ideas about the title, but wanted other opinions. My ideas: ‘Mission’, ‘Find Farther’, or simply ‘At The Edges of the Universe’. Do you like these, or do you have others?

Schedule

Schedule in time to show appreciation.
Take a class on the rules of society
‘Embrace salvation’ is on my to-do list
and to become less forgetful is a short term goal.
Plan for mood swings, crying and giggling.
Make time for deep, emotional conversations
and for learning that life is random,
surprising, and demanding-
more passion than I can imagine.

Ode to the Desert

Here are two different descriptions of the desert. Which one do you connect with more?

1) It is extreme:
the juniper trees show cunning
greater than our power.
The neon flowers are an unstable confidence.
Dehydrating warmth to
numbing cold in an hours throw,
all to restrain us!
It strips us of our common sense and pride
Take our jewels as your prize.

2) Oh! let me be as graceful as the clouds;
be a light of beauty like the neon flowers;
wise as the juniper tree.
These things that God has given
the citizens of the desert
I wish to be blessed to the chosen people
and used for His glory.

Untitled

I need title suggestions! What comes to mind?

Pressures fight purity
when all I wish to do is keep it simple.
You I care about, You it’s all about
and while I am here with You I have
comfort and sympathy, which creates joy.
Your kisses, Your songs
make my joy and comfort,
console from a day of expectations
and resolve it in a perfect way-
like a glorious sunlight display
of the colors of mangoes and peaches
before the coolness of dark.

The Curtains Are Closed

The gray possesses my room like a demon.
As Sunsets march begins
I watch glory radiate from around the drapes,
fighting – it will not be forced away.
From the slit in the middle,
a golden ray.

I grab the edges of the ray,
asunder the curtains-
leaning forward-
becoming blind-
blinking once-
seeing the guard surrender
as if God had whispered,
“Light will win. It is good.”

From here on out, I will try to add new posts once a week.

Talk

I read this article on what poetry is to our society by Jeremy Schmall. Very interesting and liberal. He said, “Poetry, as it exists today, is a spontaneous, self-organizing and utterly unprofitable source of culture…” and that poets are not a market, but a tribe. Since poets and their work don’t fit into globalization markets (since it doesn’t sell), they define themselves.
If you care to read, go here.

For Fathers Day

I hope everyone can learn to appreciate their fathers. This is my tribute to my own. What will you be doing to celebrate your dad this weekend?

As Father – Daughter Should Be

Tonight, an evening to bond, a weekly routine.
I treasure these evenings more than others:
their simplicity, necessity.

His face is defined against the pale mango light.
Above: the silhouette of the Monument.
My dad and his Toyota Tundra, 90’s hit songs playing,
and a recount of past week events
and coming weekend plans.

He whom I trust with encouragement and approval.
Our relationship flourishes on these nights.

Slow But Steady

This is a poem I wrote with form – three six lined stanzas. This poem was not written by me – they are God’s words. It’s like we co-wrote it.

Like a fawn with new footsteps
I gallop by with too much confidence
until I trip, falling to my knees,
into gravel and a stream.
Again I try to have pride in my ability
yet stumble each time.

Instead I will channel an elephant,
slow but steady and wise.
Grant me wide ears
and weathered feet, Lord.
If You give me words to speak,
I will announce them with dignity.

I don’t want the diseases, Lord
and You are my healer.
Let me honor You every minute
and hold Your grace in my every move;
simply to garden my love
and the years with You.

Dear Mother,

This is a poem I wrote for my mother on Mothers Day. It is best to celebrate mothers randomly. This is not in form – that one is coming soon.

Dear Mother,

On such a sentimental night
only I give myself such a fright-
to see myself change with age,
less than yearbooks can contain.

It scares me
that I might leave what I’ve known behind,
but excites me
to analyze my new skin as I find it.

As I learn more about you
I discover the person you always were,
the one God assigned.
You sing, you garden, you read peacefully.
More than a womb, more than a wallet—
a companion and a teacher,
as a mother should be.
Oh, how lucky am I.

Coming Soon

I would love to write a poem in form, but it is hard! This is coming soon, but may take a while to master. Until then, free verse.