Poetry Blogs (religion)
Wolfgar Miere on (1 hour ago)
As friends solemnly told him to call
On them if ever he needed anything,
Only his pastor was candid enough
To tell him Jesus alone would stay.
And so it was as it had always been,
Walking alone on the beach, in town,
Along the highway, and in the upstairs
Hallway with no memory of being carried.
He supposed Jesus was a faithful companion,
But a bit quiet, and not much help when
Tuesday 9th July 2019 7:18 am
You ask if I believe in God...
How can I not?
To deny my Father
means I leave my existence
to some 30 year old predator
who impregnated a girl half his age
and left her to raise their child
in the wilderness, among wolves
that feed on loneliness and despair.
Without my Father, I would never know
that after suffering comes deliverance,
pain leads to compassion,
forgiveness breaks b...
Sunday 19th May 2019 7:16 pm
Know how in the 1970s the televangelists
All had perfectly sculpted and blow-dried hair?
Well, my Daddy was at least partly responsible
For all that glitz and fancy get-up.
He didn’t do hair for anyone as famous
As Pat Robertson or Jim Bakker, but
Styled hair for some big traveling evangelists
Like Gene Williams. These guys would take the
Word of God around the world, but come back
Saturday 13th April 2019 6:50 am
Oh, Good Lord, y’all, I thank we better git in the house. That sky is darker than Brother Jimmy’s sermon last Sunday, and it’s flashing like a God-damned disco. It’s gonna be a gully washer, all right, but Ronnie’s got the big truck if we git in any trouble, and we can surely trust Jesus will be with us. The last time we had a toad strangler like this, a big ol’ twister turned Alma’s roof inta too...
Thursday 11th April 2019 12:43 pm
In a previous century my grandfather died
Only weeks after my great uncle.
A few weeks later, my grandmother
Made a quick trip to the grocery store
And returned to find her house in flames.
Having lost her brother, husband, and home
In a matter of weeks, my uncle Skeet
(so known because as a child he was
No bigger than a mosquito or “skeeter")
Tried to comfort his s...
Thursday 11th April 2019 8:14 am
This isn't the last train. But the late train
has no quiet cars. If a baby squalls no conductor
shushes her. You must shush her yourself.
The late train has no dining car. So board
this train now, or pack a picnic, your own
tablecloth, napkins, napkin-rings, silver,
porcelain. The late train has no schedule.
Depends on how many girlfriends the brakeman
wants to vi...
Wednesday 13th March 2019 2:00 am
Translation of my Arabic Poem (“The Choice”)
Who, in the World, chooses his birth?
Who chooses his family and children?
Who chooses his fate and country?
Who chooses the time to go to heaven?
But it is possible to choose our day
To sincerely care about family and work
This will be the first right step to our future
To achieve our goals while we're alive
Your name and countr...
Monday 25th February 2019 8:11 pm
Ashes in a jar
It has been said, that the road to hell is paved with good intentions
Not always lies and deceit, or other people’s pretentious
How can we even know where the path will be
The sign often obscured, impossible to see
Is it the left hand path, or maybe the right
Or, perhaps the middle ground leads to the light
Left wing and right wing mean little to me...
Saturday 19th January 2019 7:55 am