Imitation of Yellow

Imitation of Scott Cairn's "Yellow"

She walks as window shopper up and down

the well-paved sidewalk worn by well-paid

shoes. Bright eyes sparkling behind the painted faces that

pass her by creased by worry, wrinkled with joy

no uniform reaction. Unique souls in

conforming bodies. She walks on brushing

shoulder with well-worked shoulder muscle flexed

strained by shopping bag’s heavy weight – a golden calf.

She walks, simply walks, enjoying the act

of being alive. Observing, looking,

breathing in and looking high above this  life,

this place of corruptible joys and goals and

battles. Lazy beams of sun and gentle breeze

contrast with the frantic hurried pace of

shoppers. She smiles. It is going to be

okay. And on she walks between furrowed brows.

Personally,

Personally,

Probably the most irritating thing

Is the inability to laugh.

The weights on either end of lips

Disabling smiles

When all the world gives cause for joy

And peace for awhile.

In those moments of crisp air sipped

Through nose as eyes take in 

Untainted beauty

Mind and bones are racked and shook

For appropriate response

Not found.

When soul admits not what the mind declares

Smothered in thickest fog

But oblivious bird

Chirps cheer ‘cross the sky

And the sunflower screams in brilliant yellow

“Have joy, damn it!” 

Humility

 This is a poem of hope. I wrote it one night as I sat before a nativity scene and was struck by my insane amount of pride. I begged to be simple, I begged to have my pride ripped apart so I could be free. And this is what I wrote:

Castle of straw so proudly built,

Work of rotting hand.

Fort of mortals, sheath of bones,

Built upon the sand.

Bar by bar, each hopefully snatched,

Blindly seen as gold,

Now revealed as cruelest steel

By choice was each one mold.

Numb I sit in self-made cage

Lost in easy pain.

Still I write my hope and life,

Blood scrawled across the page:

Rip me to shreds, I beg, I plead

Scourge this frozen corpse

Tear my heart and make me bleed

Shake me by Your force.

Make me small, a sliver of me

So I may freely slip

‘Twixt these bars that cage me here

Into Your loving grip.

Lapse

I was looking through my drafts on this blog and I found an old poem I had began and never finished.

The darkest of my days, still light me reaches,

The coldest of my nights, warmth 'round me wraps.

The longest, endless road still I do travel 

And into mindless trudge again do lapse.

But broken! Piercing, penetrating light
Snaps me from my slumbering gait.

This way -- not waste nor worthless --

Is precious: My soul will better make.

Writing this poem I tried to get across my own spiritual journey. Often times I numb out and zone out. When I'm broken and upset, His comfort still reaches me but often eventually I slip down into a spiritual dryness. Christ always snaps me back. His love is fierce, piercing and relentless. This life, no matter how awful it may seem, is such a wonderful journey of purgation, training and sanctification. 

Beauty

Whispering winds, passing breeze

Delights, enthralls, captures, frees

Work-worn souls dulled by day.

Crashing waves and humming bird

Bring to life the cry unheard

Crushed beneath fallen dreams.

Loving look and gentle touch,

Passion 'hind the artists' brush,

Poor writers' ink-stained page

Witness to his pressing need

Seeping out in word and deed

Cracks deep his man-made shell.

Unique creature not content

Looking back on life near spent:

Life throbbing through his veins.

Broken Ice

Winter to spring, ice to flow,

Shatter, shake, renew and make

My heart alive and new...

Strip away all fear and pride,

Chop away the branches died,

Bear my heart unto the Light

That shines and pierce it through.

Lord, this cage of iron bar

Restricts, kills, smothers but still

I yearn for You alone...

Coldness creeps and slows me numb,

Frozen here yet still my tongue

(Urged by heart not conquered yet)

Sings love, in trial, to You.

Rest Dear Child.

A child, a babe, was born for me

By lowly virgin's "yes"

To conquer death and calm the seas

But now, sweet babe, do rest.

True God, I know, but yet still man

I beg Thee, child, rest!

Do not dwell on mighty plans.

Be welcomed here as guest.

My Lord, my God, with awe so great

I look on Thee so low.

Lying there You saw Thy fate

Thy future pains did know.

Before He starts His earthly test

St. Joseph, I ask of thee:

Press Him to thy kindly breast

And kiss Him once for me.

I offer all my sufferings,

And all my earthly best

Up for Thee, most blessed Child,

To give Thee moments rest.

Confession

I wrote the first stanza before confession and the second one after. I was going to add more but I think I'll leave it short and simple.

 Your mighty hand, so gentle,

Reaching out to me,

Beckons me for healing,

For You to set me free.

It is not for judgment 

Nor punishment, O Lord,

But cleansing, loving dearly,

You are ever giving more.

My Shelter

My best friend turned these old lyrics of mine:


The fire of Your great love
Has warmed my cold and frightened soul,
Scarred from battles
And lost without a home.

I have fallen too ashamed to seek You out.
Yet part of me still hopeful cries,

Father, my shelter, my all.
I know that I'm not worthy
But in Your love answer my call

Capture me in Your embrace,
Surround me with Your arms.
Only then am I at peace,
Completely safe from harm.

(Repeat chorus)

Your burning love has warmed my guarded heart x3

(Repeat Chorus)

into this song :

http://soundcloud.com/matthew-doh/my-shelter-lyrics-by-elizabeth


It just makes me so happy when these things come together for His glory :)

The Boy and The Palace

Gazing at the palace,

The little child crept

Out of the dirty street.

Where he once had slept.

Looking gave him comfort,

His needs demanded more.

A spark of hope ignited,

He dared approach the door.

Waiting for the answer,

He almost turned and fled,

Ashamed by dirty garments;

The dirt upon his head.

Now the door wide opened,

The child felt a peace.

For the one who answered

Brought him to his knees.

With her eyes so gentle,

The Lady looked on him

Past the dirt and bruises,

She knew where he had been.

She bent then raised the child

And pressed him to her breast

Not fearing that his filth

Might stain her queenly dress.

She washed and bathed the child,

And freshly dressed his wounds

Even then, more promised,

He should the King see soon!

His wounds, though cleanly dressed,

Recalled to him his past,

"How would the King of all

See me who should be last?"

The gentle Queen, she smiled

And led him to the court,

Past those who did rejoice

For him, now free from hurts.

Now, once into the court,

The boy fell down in awe,

Such splendor and such glory, 

The poor boy never saw.

The King began to speak

(voice warming to the bones)

Bade the child come to

Him and sit upon His throne.

The boy then kissed His feet

And cried of praise and thanks.

He wept with sheer relief

And joy, knowing darkness past.

O Soul...

Be not sad, nor weep, o soul,

For thou art wonderf'lly made.

Thy Lord alone shall make thee whole,

"Draw near Me", He hast bade.

If, o soul, thou knew His Love,

Thy heart would burst with Joy!

The heavenly King, reigning above,

His Son, for us, employ'd.

Don't you see, o poor, sweet soul

How precious thou art to Him!

He descended to us, from seat of gold,

And fought; your heart to win.

Have Hope, no fear; rejoice o soul!

For He hast won thee life.

Such mercy forgives thy sins of ol',

Redeems all worldly strife. 

I don't claim that my poetry is very good, but it is something I enjoy doing. It's my own little way of trying to praise and give glory to my God. I hope you enjoyed reading this :)

Great Humility

The King of Glory gives Himself

Every single day.

'Though He in heaven, we below

Not alone remain.

He comes by Love in hidden form

(Most great humility!)

So we, by Faith, must choose to come

Unseen though He may be.

Such Joy is found in Christ our Lord

He who is our end.

We the beloved, foolish flock

He'll ne'r cease to tend.

Mercy

I wrote this poem after being really dumb last night. It has less form than my other ones...



O Jesus, Thy poor, wounded heart

It is I who's pierced it so!

All the pain I've caused Thee

Lord, I shall never fully know.

With my acts so selfish

My human heart so weak.

Not satisfied with Perfection

Wanting something more "concrete".

What a fool am I, wretched self!

Who so often reject Thy gifts

But only they are capable

To free me, from the deep to lift

And bring me to Thy glorious Light

The true desire of my hardened heart.

O Love, Thy mercy ever saves me.

It alone redeems my unworthy soul.

I was stressing out during physics because I had no idea what was going on but I ended up writing this little poem on the side of the page and it helped :

Holy Mother Mary,

I pray you, help me be

All that God desires

From sin my soul set free. 

 

I'm starting to turn it into a longer poem but I just wanted to share this for now :)