He said no more.
“Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry.” ― William Butler Yeats
Friday, March 30, 2018
When we started the war
He said no more.
Tuesday, March 27, 2018
Into the Danger Zone
It was a Kenny Loggins night,
There by the banks of the old canal,
behind the elementary school,
theme from "Top Gun",
on the WalkMan.
This place, full of memories, bad ...
and good, on the highway,
to the danger zone
She was his first, and still his only ...
Tomorrow, at the Temple,
they will covenant to be one.
Together, they will share,
This ride, into the wind.
But for now, He thinks
Of the dance, to come.
This life, together, and apart.
Thursday, March 1, 2018
They Danced
Why continue, the dance.
Nearly 50 years, separated only by death.
She really wanted the 50, years.
Come together, separate, then together ...
Again.
Their had been other lovers but only one
Real, luv.
Why continue the dance?
She really luved him but life,
With him, was hard.
She never let anyone close, really close
But the dance they shared,
The life they shared.
It ment so much, to them, and the children.
Is love then truly an act and not a feeling.
To endure the heartache and pain.
This then the dance, together and apart.
Thursday, February 8, 2018
The scars we carry
We both carry the scars,
the ones from our darkest day.
I for the life I lived,
He from the life I lived.
Dark with dispair, was I.
To carry my dispair, did he.
How I long to speak, to him,
of our scars.
He must have luved me,
as I long to luv them now.
This is a dream we share,
the scars that bind us ...
Eternally.
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
On learning new things
Difficult things, I seek to know.
Yet thus explain, I cannot.
And little understand, do I yet.
I ponder them now,
These many years
Long do to I desire,
to share these thoughts.
Then why do you not,
understand me thus?
To win an argument,
I do not, then seek.
I want to share, a truth.
Maybe the day, will come,
when better prepared to receive, you are
Or more able, to explain, I am.
Till then, shall we dance,
and be friends.
Sunday, February 4, 2018
On her paintings
She painted,
In water colors and oil.
Whence she started, I do not know.
Late in life, I do suppose.
In life, I did not appreciate them.
Long gone, she is now.
Charlene her daughter in law
She was living with, when grandma died.
She sent them to my sister.
We have them now.
I long for her presence,
the paintings will do..
for Now.
Maybe my children will have my poetry,
when gone, I am, too.
Will they long for me, as I do, for her ...
Now
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
The Castle
In the middle of our town
To house a God.
But no keep and bailey
from my bedroom window,
this lifetime.
so God can be with us, in our midts.
why we built them,
I wondered,
The first ones.
Come to build Gods Kingdom
to gain religious Freedom.
battled Johnston's Army,
to a stalemate.
Thursday, January 11, 2018
The choice
Why choose,
to end a life.
Mistakes he had made,
and been forgiven.
Then came, new life,
a wife, and 2 children.
Still the demons haunted him.
The seizures, waking,
have returned again.
He tried, so hard,
To begin life, anew.
I have had dark hours too.
I know the despair felt, that day.
Luckily no access to guns, did I have,
on my day.
Others live with our choices, too.
Now two babies have no father.
The world has one more widow.
And I am a loss,
to explain, the choice.
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
On creating midrash
She had told him,
The young life, had been wasted?
Or did she.
He ask momma,
Why his daughter died.
His daughter being less then 6 months.
Crib death they called, it.
No explanation, no answer.
He ask Momma,
Why.
To help you be a man.
He said I am not a man, I have not changed.
He heard, "Your daughters life's was wasted"
He then became a man, and changed.
This is the story, I heard,
as I studied,
at his table.
Two lives improved, by her short life.
Now I tell you the story.
This is the power of myth, as it becomes midrash.
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
The poems
To this then the poems.
Come forth unannounced
Unaware.
I call them forth, naught.
From whence do the come?
Come forth thence do, they.
To bless, and to share.
Thus,
therapy, could be they?
Share them, do I,
Then.
In hopes to bring forth,
The light.
For all to share.
Monday, December 25, 2017
This, Then, be Sacred
It was oil, olive,
Then was it, naught.
Together, they nelt,
Together, they prayed.
How does one seek forgiveness,
of the self.
To then hallow, the vulgar, choice.
To remove,
this, then, the pain.
Thus, to bless the oil,
and then the act.
To make this, then, sacred, the choice.
To the moment they shared.
That peace may come,
and the pain,
be no more.
For to remove, is to restore,
and safeguard life.
This then, the choice, he made.
Friday, December 22, 2017
When to plant, the pot.
Nephi had done it.
Many prophets did it
Defied the culture
To save a life.
Now we plant the pot.
It is a risk.
The risk we bare.
He who plants, 24 years.
We who grow, our home, and freedom.
We risk it all.
For the one we luv
Now to bare fruit.
The cure it came.
To share another day.
With the one we luv.
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Acts 10:9-16
The blanket,
it was spread forth,
on the roof top.
All the unclean food.
"Take eat this is my body"
Three times the command was repeated.
Then the meal was removed.
Three times he had denied Christ, before.
He had been ever faithfull,
Ever since.
But this seamed a bridge, too far.
He pondered thus.
Can anything be impure,
What God has made pure.
When the men came,
from Cornelius,
he journied, thus.
Have I denied,
the pure,
unpure.
The pot was planted,
the pure,
unpure.
The prisoner, in his jail cell.
The unloved.
The unwashed.
To have not left,
The cave.
To leave behind the burden,
the expectation of his culture.
To be with, and strengthen,
the impure.
Those with heavy burdens.
This was his task,
and desire.
Saturday, December 16, 2017
The scares, He bore.
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
On Plato's Cave
Success and family was what, then he saught, always.
Long lived they in the cave.
The images that surrounded, them.
Were they real, or naught.
The others, outside, had such expectations.
He wanted to be with them too.
To be with them, this he could naught.
So he lived two lives, between the real and the cave.
Someday he would be naught.
Maybe his God would judge him naught.
But leave them, in the cave, he could naught.
Until they freed themselves.
Was it not the cave, Plato's cave.
Escape it once he did, almost.
But return then he must.
They could not see the real for the image.
For to leave them he could bare, naught.
So this then, was his task.
To be with them, and strengthen them, until they freed their own chains.
Then together they would leave the cave...
Tobe their naught.
Saturday, November 11, 2017
On Mr Frodo and Gethsemane.
Here in the garden.
Or only to mourn, this one.
All will be lost.
Thus now they confired.
For man
For God.
Sunday, October 29, 2017
On Celtic Bishops.
What of the Celtic Bishop's.
Born so long ago.
How long did they preserve, the church?
... after the fall of the empire.
This long time, they served humanity, and transmitted culture, and learning.
St. Patrick's grandfather was one.
How they loved and cherished their wives.
To nourish the church in the wilderness,
was it not, their lives vocation.
Till in her beauty, she came forth, in all her strength, and magistry.
Friday, October 20, 2017
From whence doth it come?
A Volcano ,
A perrenial flower, that fails to bloom ,
The poetry, and I.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
On Being Vulgar ...
I am a Vulgar man.
Less common with the coming years.
I learned to swear, like Brother Brigham.
Life does that to you.
This life happens, as you are making other plans.
Promised a large righteous posterity, by one who knew I was sterile.
Never to create new life in this world.
How does one become less common, more vulgar.
Feeling less mormon, and more christlike each day.
I planted the pot.
I adopted two children from one who could create new life, special gift, from one who loves our family.
A gift, I hope to repay someway.
I helped to prosecute a young man who misused his reproductive powers.
Then purchased a van to visit him for several years.
To let him know he was not his crime.
This commoness
This Vulgarness
Trade, with the coming years.
Till I become less like me,
and more like him.
Saturday, September 30, 2017
On the light of Christ
Who never learned his name,
thus we're told.
so was the Buddha.
Saturday, September 23, 2017
On the importance of tolerance ..
of the Other .
of the Protestants.
of the Blacks.
of the Mormon's.
will be enough.
on the back row.
Porn,
Booze,
Food,
Sex,
The unwashed.
The Bishop unwilling to accept,
the one child, who no longer believes.
to hold to a belief,
I have luved from youth.
the Other.
to a greater,
understanding,
Saturday, September 16, 2017
Does the song remember when?
Does the song?
Know when, to remember,
Or when, to forget.
Memories of Momma, on my mind.
When will come the children.
To long for them we do.
Do I remember the future, or is it the past.
This time too, shall pass.
This road to come, long it is,
Here I am in Momma's van.
Trisha Yearwood, playing on the tape deck.
"The Song Remembers When".
When to love, when to cry, and when to try again.
Sunday, September 10, 2017
To still the anger, then be one/won
He was angry with one of them.
With which one, he was not certain.
He had kissed them both.
In his life, their had only been two.
One gave him life, the other shared his bed.
Why spread the anger at the first, to the second?
The second had urged him, to settled the anger , with the first.
He was unwilling, to do the same.
So it spoiled his time, with the second.
Before the death of the first, their was reconciliation, and real forgiveness.
Now how to return to the second, to diminish the void, he created.
... this then is his quest.
Monday, August 28, 2017
On the cemetery, at Grants Ward.
in Grants Ward, to see if Momma, was there.
Nada, Ken, Grandpa, Fred, and a grandson too, Willard's boy.
to clean the graves.
http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~idbancem/downey_area_cemeteries/grant_ward/grant_ward_cemetery.htm
Sunday, August 27, 2017
On the other, moms
She did.
Wanted to be his mom.
Or so he thought.
And very angry, still.
life would be better, so much better.
Friday, August 18, 2017
On the importance, of the poetry.
It was long his dream,
To write the history.
He tried once,
So long ago.
The journals in high school.
The letters to his children.
They were too complete,
in his brokeness.
How to help you to luv them,
He saught.
Then comes the poetry.
Poetry is broken, and incomplete.
This is the blessing, and a way, to show,
The luv.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
A man and his murse ...
Why does a man need purse?
I knew a man, who had a jewelry box.
I have been accused, of being that man,
Little Eddie Jr.
In my purse, I have 5 Android devices,
And their chargers.
O' and my wallet too.
It was purchased for a small netbook,
But now it is a murse, a man's purse.
We go many places, together.
I always have it nearby.
Once in the hospital, I had no charger.
Now like a good Eagle Scout, I am always prepared.
It has a spare battery powered charger, two bluetooth headphones.,
And lots of good USB cables .
I hope you are prepared with a murse, or a jewelry box.
Tuesday, August 15, 2017
On Mommas, twin sister
Momma had a twin sister,
they were born 18 months apart.
Where one would go, the other would follow
for years they shared a bedroom,
and a bed too.
Momma had the babies
her sister helped to raise them.
having three children,
in a short time,
momma needed help, with the babies.
momma, took her sister, on their vacations
they shared a bed then too.
momma was in the middle,
just so daddy's eyes did not roam too far.
they luved the babies together,
momma and her sister.
in the summer's, after her marriage
momma sister would take a child, for a week or two.
her sister ached for her unborn child
momma's children helped fill the void.
I luved momma and I luved her sister,
They really completed each other.
Saturday, August 12, 2017
On making a baby ...
Let's make a baby,
She said.
It was not the first night,
But the second.
The first had been a pajama night.
Still he had not sleeped with a woman,
Except momma, her momma, or an aunt.
The first day was a busy day,
The wedding breakfast,
Temple ceremony, when he nearly fainted, and the wedding reception.
So the first night was a pajama night.
She was the first to kiss him,
Except momma.
That second night, they did try, to make a baby.
Little did they know, He could never create new life.
Still they luved to try.
The babies did come, send from another who luved them all.
He so luved his Eve.
So times seam tough and life is a struggle ,
Still he knows she was the first and will remain the only,
To ask him, to help her, to make a baby.
Friday, July 28, 2017
On the first, broken, family.
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
J. Golden on thinking for ourselves.
... "but all the men in the United States cannot prevent a man from thinking. There are not Apostles enough in the Church to prevent us from thinking, and they are not disposed to do so; but some people fancy because we have the Presidency and Apostles of the Church they will do the thinking for us. There are men and women so mentally lazy that they hardly think for themselves. To think calls for effort, which makes some men tired and wearies their souls. Now, brethren and sisters, we are surrounded with, such conditions that it requires not only thought, but the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Latter-day Saints, you must think for yourselves. No man or woman can remain in this Church on borrowed light." (J. Golden Kimball. April 1904 General Conference)
To be grateful, and the anger, be still ...
She, was dying.
Dying She, was ?
Or, was He ?
To grateful, for the small things,
Where, they?
A full hair of head .
A Hair Stylist, with real talent.
Two children, and a husband, she luved.
Angry he was, VERY VERY VERY ANGRY !
She was the center of his universe.
Talk about it, he could not .
Why?
Then came the one who brought the cure.
... AND ANGRY, VERY ANGRY, was he, still.
So, very still.
Talk, he could not, and why, they knew not.
Yet, came the cure, the full head of hair.
A full remission.
... and now to the rebuilding, of a life.
To let the anger, be still.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
On their brokenness
broken, and luved.
It was a walker.
A real marvel of its' age.
Damaged, it was ...
I remember it from my youth.
It, with its' sister,
hung on mommas wall.
Luved them, she did,
Luved us too.
Momma cared for the dolls,
as she cared for us.
When I see the dolls,
I remember to care,
the forgotten,
the unluved,
and the broken.
For Momma and I were broken too.
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
The church, universal, nourished, in the wilderness
"Behold, I do not bring it to destroy that
If this generation harden not their hearts,
I will establish my church among them.
Now I do not say this to destroy my church,
but I say this to build up my church;
Therefore, whosoever belongeth to my church need not fear, for such shall inherit the kingdom of heaven."
"And the woman fled to the wilderness,
where she had a place prepared by God
where she would be sustained... "
how long did she linger there,
their in the wilderness
nestled by the fire,
of his writers and poets.
concealed was she, there, nourished.
when to come forth,
and replenish the earth?
Milton unearthed her,
concealed among the poets.
"Say Heav'nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein [ 15 ]
Afford a present to the Infant God?
Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein,
To welcom him to this his new abode,"
"And dig'd out ribs of Gold. Let none admire [ 690 ]
That riches grow in Hell; "
"That underneath had veins of liquid fire [ 701 ] ...
Severing each kind, and scum'd the Bullion dross:"
Let no man question, then,
in the wilderness, she remained,
to be brought forth .
in all her restoration, and glory.
Friday, June 9, 2017
Elousia, In her womb ..
In her womb.
I rest ...
On RACHAM : Hebrew, mercy, bosom, womb
Papa: The Shack, William Paul. Young
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
On the Bastardization of English by the vulgar folk ...
"Zeal to promote the common good, whether it be by devising anything ourselves, or revising that which hath been laboured by others, deserveth certainly much respect and esteem, but yet findeth but cold entertainment in the world. It is welcomed with suspicion instead of love, and with emulation instead of thanks: and if there be any hole left for cavil to enter, (and cavil, if it do not find a hole, will make one) it is sure to be misconstrued, and in danger to be condemned. This will easily be granted by as many as know story, or have any experience. For, was there ever any thing projected, that savoured any way of newness or renewing, but the same endured many a storm of gainsaying, or opposition? A man would think that Civility, wholesome Laws, learning and eloquence, Synods, and Church-maintenance, (that we speak of no more things of this kind) should be as safe as a Sanctuary, and out of shot, as they say, that no man would lift up the heel, no, nor dog move his tongue against the motioners of them. For by the first, we are distinguished from brute beasts lead with sensuality; By the second, we are bridled and restrained from outrageous behaviour, and from doing of injuries, whether by fraud or by violence; By the third, we are enabled to inform and reform others, by the light and feeling that we have attained unto ourselves; Briefly, by the fourth being brought together to a parley face to face, we sooner compose our differences than by writings which are endless; And lastly, that the Church be sufficiently provided for, is so agreeable to good reason and conscience, that those mothers are holden to be less cruel, that kill their children as soon as they are born, than those nursing fathers and mothers (wheresoever they be) that withdraw from them who hang upon their breasts (and upon whose breasts again themselves do hang to receive the Spiritual and sincere milk of the word) livelihood and support fit for their estates. Thus it is apparent, that these things which we speak of, are of most necessary use, and therefore, that none, either without absurdity can speak against them, or without note of wickedness can spurn against them.
Yet for all that, the learned know that certain worthy men have been brought to untimely death for none other fault, but for seeking to reduce their countrymen to good order and discipline; and that in some Commonwealths it was made a capital crime, once to motion the making of a new Law for the abrogating of an old, though the same were most pernicious; And that certain, which would be counted pillars of the State, and patterns of Virtue and Prudence, could not be brought for a long time to give way to good Letters and refined speech, but bare themselves as averse from them, as from rocks or boxes of poison; And fourthly, that he was no babe, but a great clerk, that gave forth (and in writing to remain to posterity) in passion peradventure, but yet he gave forth, that he had not seen any profit to come by any Synod, or meeting of the Clergy, but rather the contrary; And lastly, against Church-maintenance and allowance, in such sort, as the Ambassadors and messengers of the great King of Kings should be furnished, it is not unknown what a fiction or fable (so it is esteemed, and for no better by the reporter himself, though superstitious) was devised; Namely, that at such a time as the professors and teachers of Christianity in the Church of Rome, then a true Church, were liberally endowed, a voice forsooth was heard from heaven, saying: Now is poison poured down into the Church, etc. Thus not only as oft as we speak, as one saith, but also as oft as we do anything of note or consequence, we subject ourselves to everyone's censure, and happy is he that is least tossed upon tongues; for utterly to escape the snatch of them it is impossible. If any man conceit, that this is the lot and portion of the meaner sort only, and that Princes are privileged by their high estate, he is deceived. As the sword devoureth as well one as the other, as it is in Samuel [2 Sam 11:25], nay as the great Commander charged his soldiers in a certain battle, to strike at no part of the enemy, but at the face; And as the King of Syria commanded his chief Captains to fight neither with small nor great, save only against the King of Israel: [1 Kings 22:31] so it is too true, that Envy striketh most spitefully at the fairest, and at the chiefest. David was a worthy Prince, and no man to be compared to him for his first deeds, and yet for as worthy as act as ever he did (even for bringing back the Ark of God in solemnity) he was scorned and scoffed at by his own wife [2 Sam 6:16]. Solomon was greater than David, though not in virtue, yet in power: and by his power and wisdom he built a Temple to the Lord, such a one as was the glory of the land of Israel, and the wonder of the whole world. But was that his magnificence liked of by all? We doubt of it. Otherwise, why do they lay it in his son's dish, and call unto him for easing of the burden, Make, say they, the grievous servitude of thy father, and his sore yoke, lighter. [1 Kings 12:4] Belike he had charged them with some levies, and troubled them with some carriages; Hereupon they raise up a tragedy, and wish in their heart the Temple had never been built. So hard a thing it is to please all, even when we please God best, and do seek to approve ourselves to everyone's conscience."
(Preface King James Version in the edition of 1611)
I know we often disparage the change in the English Language as the common folk create, change and mold it. Twitter, texting, and Facebook have strongly shaped the language in the current generation. Even as The Tyndale Translation and English Common Book of Prayer shaped and molded 16-17th century English.
The ability of the English Language to shape and mold itself to the needs of the rising generation while retaining its ability to communicate ageless thought is part of why it is the dominant language in the world today.
Sunday, May 28, 2017
The drink, ... with a friend.
In it comes, out it goes.
A confession, or renewal.
The invitation.
To return, thus, it is.
Now to renew, the journey.
Hope of a rebirth, of the covenant.
Thus a trade, a restoration.
The end, of the beginning.
5-28-2017
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
On the power of myth.
"Go back to the darkest roots of civilization and you will find them knotted round some sacred stone or encircling some sacred well. People first paid honour to a spot and afterwards gained glory for it. Men did not love Rome because she was great. She was great because they had loved her." (G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy)
The stories of Luke Skywalker or Han Solo are the sacred myth of my generation. Though set "Long ago and far, far away" They are the sacred fire we built our culture around.
Another is the story of Adam and Eve. This story has transformed my relationship with my mother. Thus the power of this myth.
Eve was a woman who desired to have children. In her desire to have children, she became broken. In this brokenness we now live. Eve sacrificed her presence with God so I could be born.
My mom and I have a difficult relationship. We are both broken souls. It is the power of the Eve myth that rebuilds our relationship. I value the sacrifices offered by her, her mother, and her mother's mother, to create my life. This gratitude has driven me, to restore my relationship, with my mother.
These sacrifices , are not in theory. These sacrifices, are in fact. My mother's family have collected these stories. I know their names and birthplace to at least 7 generations. I have their stories. The babies, they lost. The husbands they buried. They are real to me.
Thus, the power of the Eve myth to shape and forge, mine and my mothers relationship.
These myths tie me to my mothers, for all time.
When she, was part, of him ...
their she was, in him, Adam
did he not see her.
she was a part of him,
but he was alone.
all of creation had a companion,
he did not, or so it seamed, to him.
then came the separation,
now she was not part of him.
now he was not alone,
or so it seamed to him.
now, through all eternity,
he must strive,
to return,
to when, she was part of him.
Friday, May 5, 2017
To'be less, is more. ver 2.0
To be grateful for.
The more I seek.
The less I am.
To'be no more.
Then less of more.
All the more.
Thursday, May 4, 2017
it is a twilight
a ris'n or a setting mourn
no more they mourn
when gone, i am
who will mourn
in the mor'n
or in eve,
the twilight
is it a rising
or a setting mourn.
Friday, April 28, 2017
This, new feeling, so long ago.
What was it she said,
...this, now, so long ago.
It seamed new, and fresh,
...this, now, so long ago.
this feeling was old, yet new
this feeling, of yester-year
was it lost,
or was it found
This feeling, I never knew,
...this, now, so long ago.
Steven Bassett
April 2015
Saturday, April 15, 2017
To be, less is more.
To be grateful is,
To be grateful for.
This more I seek.
Then is it more?
The more I become,
The less I am.
T'is this I seek
To be less, then more..
The more I am,
The more I seek.
The more I seek,
The less I am.
Till then I am,
To'be no more.
I will seek,
Then less of more
To then I 'come,
All the more.
Steven Basset
April 2015
Sunday, April 9, 2017
The choice, She made.
She luv'd him,
but why.
This then, the many years.
If luv is a verb ...
Then luv him, she did.
Many actions, through the years.
He knew, no children,
might be their lot.
Still ...
She luved him.
Accepted her, he did ...
only to discover, it was,
he not her.
Then came the gift, of the two.
But would he be,
the one, she choose, always ...
,to luv.
This then, must be ...
,his choice, to serve her, then ...
he must, and choose
This luv, daily.
Saturday, April 8, 2017
Still, know I not.
The poetry,
Comes forth.
Rest, in My soul
Friday, April 7, 2017
The Talent, To cultivate.
To be'still my soul,
Come'th it now..
Invited I not,
yet come'th, then forth.
This talent, long buried ...
lay dormant it still.
To this, then the garden...
the garden, my soul.
Tragedy, brought for'th,
To cultivate, thus,
This, to the muze,
be grateful, ther'by.
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
Still know, I not then
From whence,
doeth it come.
Come'th it does,
To now and then
Then and now
come'th it still
still to my heart
come'th it now
Still doeth it come
To'be quiet my soul
My soul to be'stilll
Doth quiet it now.
To reveal is to hide
Remaith their, still.
April 4, 2016
Saturday, March 4, 2017
The Tau, of Stev,
It came at a great cost,
The Tao, of Stev,
Momma full of pain.
Papa, lost his mind.
Brother, not certain, of love.
Two sister's, struggled, to find a place,
... and each other.
How does one struggle?
... for a Tao.
He thought he found it,
... in the church that supported, him, them.
More discoveries, on the mission,
to Mississippi.
A wife.
Two children ...
Gifts from one, who loved them.
Then, the car accident,
... the cancer returns.
He lost it all,
in the deepest part, of his soul.
How to recover, the Tao ...
,saught he then.
, ... still does now.
Sunday, February 19, 2017
The circumcision
... the same for me.
... for us?
... of the covenant.
... mine, for him.
... now I make them for him.
... of love, and care.
... sins.
... and choice.
... to understand, his choices,
... and mine.
To heal, a broken soul
I am damaged goods .
Born defective..
Of broken soul's.
Young they were...
these broken soul's.
They sought to repair us...
the doctor's ...
... and the priests.
This long time ...
... they have sought our souls.
He was broken too.
Broken by the ones,
he sought to redeem.
In this brokenness,
...then beyond redemption, are we?
Then on, to redemption,
this journey, then we seek
Then to serve,
... in our brokenness,
... is what remains.
Saturday, January 21, 2017
The drive, to rescue, a soul.
Friday, January 20, 2017
This then to be grateful.
How many times,
had he returned.
Alone.
Was he alone,
in crowds?
This three days,
this then, no more ...
Alone.
The dishes, she cleaned,
the table, she set,
the dinner, she served.
This, the one,
who gave him life.
had ceased to do,
long ago,
This three days,
she had come,
to change, his life.
Then to be grateful,
must he,
then be.
This, then,
to show,
gratitude, and luv.
To return, to luv, and youth.
Luv is so sweet,
When taken, this choice.
To choose to luv,
T'is it a gift, from diety.
Tougher, then, this choice,
A return, then, to joy.
The sweetness can come,
... after years of bitter sorrow.
Earned thus it is.
Like vinegar, that reduces, to wine.
This reversal to youth ...
like young luv, it returns.
The bitterness, long forgotten. .
It, the act of a two part ...
Forgiveness,
...
Thus returns, to youth, and joy ...
tobe, then, to the,
... "I Am" ...
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
She, who bore, the children
The choice, she made.
The gift, they shared.
Two for them,
was the gift.
A choice, not an accident,
or mistake.
This, a free will gift ...
of Luv.
Honored they were,
by the gift ...
this gift of Luv.
Together ...
they cherished,
The Children.
Monday, January 9, 2017
This daughter of Eve.
This daughter of Eve,
and ...
Adam's off-ox.
To luv her ...
In the end, was the choice.
But how to choose.
Her sisters would have replaced,
... her.
This choice was not made,in his youth.
This daughter off Eve ...
was distant, as was, Adams off-ox.
How many of Eves daughter's,
had sacrificed to create, her life.
How many of Eve's daughters,
would he lose, if he selected, an aunt,
for, his mom.
This price, he would not pay.
Reach out again ... he did.
This dance, this time, they,
... did not pull away.
Together they danced,
and celebrated Eve's daughters,
and Adams off-ox.
Thursday, January 5, 2017
This then the Miracle
This, then, the miracle,
He comes ?
Tis pierced, and shunned.
This then, the miracle,
We seek.
To recognize.
The one, we do.
This, then the miracle.
Wednesday, January 4, 2017
This then pot, the plant
I prayed for a miracle,
I got the pot, planted.
Her death, would it come ?
Know I not, but when,
soon...
God, then sent, this gift
This to recognize, took but, years.
Death has not come,
Pass by it thus,
Has ...
This wife, still thus,
I have, and children too.
Plus one. ..
Solved ...
The great Nephretic puzzle
Thus, I have.
Now to be greatful,
For the miracle, he hath wrought.
And gifts, we now share.
(Book Of Mormon, 1 Nephi ch. 4)
Chapter 4
Nephi slays Laban at the Lord’s command and then secures the plates of brass by stratagem—Zoram chooses to join Lehi’s family in the wilderness. About 600–592 B.C.
10 And it came to pass that I was constrained by the Spirit that I should kill Laban; but I said in my heart: Never at any time have I shed the blood of man. And I shrunk and would that I might not slay him.
...
12 And it came to pass that the Spirit said unto me again: Slay him, for the Lord hath delivered him into thy hands;
13 Behold the Lord slayeth the wicked to bring forth his righteous purposes. It is better that one man should perish than that a nation should dwindle and perish in unbelief
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
She closed her heart
Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Luv, being a verb
... love being a verb
is a things that retains ...
requires action to endure
life being unfair,
Is ment to sustain.
how to be greatful,
and not bitter and angry
when those we love are,
Tobe,, taken..
strive always...
to awaken each morning,
to be greatful,
...that you share, one more day.
Dec 2015
Sunday, October 23, 2016
The scars, they shared.
"Follow me all you who are heavy-laden and I will give you rest."
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
To peer into his soul.
A near miss, and a shared loss.
A near miss, and a shared loss.
Saturday, October 1, 2016
A longing for Joy
a longing intense...
this drive will not rest ...
not feeling at home.
I need to leave peace.
The circle I seek,
return I may then.
** Joy = Sehnsucht a difficult to translate Germain concept.
[my first poem Oct 2011]
Inspired by (Suprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life, Clive Stanley Lewis)
(see, G.K. Chesterton, "Homesick at Home” (1896) from The Coloured Lands (London: Sheed & Ward, 1938))
see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sehnsucht
Thursday, September 29, 2016
Still, the question.
Still the poetry,
From where doeth it come.
But come'th it does.
Till I come,
It reaches me.
Forever more
And then the same.
Doeth it reach you?
much ado about no'thing
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Between, the storms
Monday, September 26, 2016
on Hosea and Gomer ver 2.0
Thursday, September 22, 2016
On being faithful, to his unbelief.
Their he sits,
on the back row,
most Sundays.
The back slider.
He had lost it,
so long ago,
on his mission,
to redeem the world.
He was deep-rooted,
in his unbelief...
So faithful,
to its loss ...
He married outside the faith.
A daughter came then too.
They raised her in his faithfulness,
to his unbelief.
His wife thought...
Their daughter needed,
a faith,
a belief.
His was as good, as any other.
Perhaps, even better.
Many times, he had tried,
to leave his unbelief.
It was marrow deep,
in his bones.
His ancestors buried it,
deep there,
ever so deep,
he could not retrieve it.
It become a blessing,
his unbelief.
Let him see, the true light,
at the center, of every soul.
Was his prayer unanswered,
in his unbelief?
Lord, I do not believe,
Bless me now, in my unbelief.
*Inspired by the life and unbelief of Levi Peterson, author of "The Backslider". It is my understanding that it was his non-mormon wife's desire to raise their daughter in the mormon faith.