God bless us on the streets and in the fog;
God bless us on the road and in the rain.
Feet dry, spirits high
until we come home safe again.
God bless us on the streets and in the fog;
God bless us on the road and in the rain.
Feet dry, spirits high
until we come home safe again.
Dig in. It’s dangerous territory here:
You’ve seen them – on the highway, in the airport. You’ve seen them at the capitol. Their feet are swift to bloodshed and never a step on the road to peace. No willingness. No admission. No confession. Don’t speak. Fifty days until… Ten days more… The sound of angels and trumpet warnings as nuclear submarines are deployed and the people in control stop listening. Foolish, inflammatory people will watch us die.
A voice declares: all flesh is grass. Capitalistic parasites are the shadow of things to come. See it: systemic torture, sabotage and destabilization. Everything is overwhelmed and hopeless. Broken windows and graffitied walls. The body ends. The flower fades. It was always chaos; they were never in control.
I am fatigued flesh
– bleeding.
I am dust and empty
space – waiting.
The First Candle of Advent
To say these lines, to speak this part,
we begin in darkness.
In silence.
Lost, forgotten
in Grand Canyons
of cynicism deep.
What did I want when I was a boy?
What do I want
now?
Have I become too cynical
with too much subtlety
and too little delight?
Lost, in mist and darkness
a dreamer of dreams
looking
for signs and wonders.
A spark,
a chance
and something changes.
From nothing
from nowhere
and it is good
or could be.
We light the candle and hope
that when the long night is
over
the light will remain.
The Second Candle of Advent
These candles are
too small
the light of our fragile, flickering choice
against
cold and angry voices,
lonely, broken tears,
and death
-
What is a candle or
two,
what is my raspy voice
even joined with
yours
against a bleak midwinter that
never seems to
thaw?
Against the longest night
and a day that never
seems to dawn?
But we’ve lit the
flame of hope
and now we burn for peace.
The Third Candle of Advent
Do they know that I’m a fraud?
I don’t feel these things I
say
and when I sing
the hymns collapse.
Rejoice
rejoice
The colors change
the candles burn
Rejoice
rejoice
The melody rises
and catches at the back of my throat
Rejoice
rejoice
I am not
but I will
rejoice
The Fourth Candle of Advent
A singer once asked me,
“Do I feel love where I used to feel
hate?”
The days are shorter,
the sun is lower.
I am cold and
tired.
My feet hurt.
Do I feel love?
Light another candle.
A little more light,
a little more love.
Do I feel love?
Is that why it hurts to remember?
What you did,
Why you left...
I can’t explain.
Forgive?
A little more love,
a little more
light.
The Christ Candle of Christmas
At last, after the fever and the frenzy
after longing and loss
after all the things that have slipped away
The ancient and deep merge with the here and now.
A light in
the darkness
A song in the silence
The mind, the heart
intellect and intuition
conscious
and subconscious
together
whole
The blessed hope
the appearing
the hope of glory
I do not know about tomorrow
Outside, the gunfire
continues
warbling emergency sirens fill the air
mothers weeping for their slaughtered innocents
But here
in the light of this flame
you are here.
As small and fragile as they are
we light these candles as a
light in the darkness
and that will not be overcome.
The reviews are in. Come see what the critics are calling “hypothetical nonsense.”
“Cheaply manufactured Christmas cheer from a liberal cynic. The smell of smoke comes in in the first half of the second act, but the smell of despair is there from the opening musical number.”
“You can clearly see the donkey…”
“Open rebellion to God from bastards and not sons. Someone should beat the fire out of him.”
“A fragment of work, directly contradicting everything else he’s ever written.”
“Grossly anachronistic, displaying a glaring ignorance of history.”
“It’s just weird.”
“Coming at the end of a long stretch of exhaustion – too tired to appreciate it when it finally comes to an end. Burned out. Burned down.”
“I haven’t checked the source, or confirmed it with the news, but as far as I know, this is legit. It seems real. It seems true, so I believe it. I haven’t followed up, but I heard it’s good.”
“A true Christmas blessing – but one best left frozen. Do not thaw.”
I wrote this backstage tonight - during a performance of a Christmas show by our local, community theater group. It has nothing (or very little) to do with the actual performance of the show. I just think it's sorta' funny.
There Once Was a Prophet from Judah: Biblical Limericks for Fun and Prophet