Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

Riddled

December 16, 2009

Riddled: a poem

i am riddled
riddled by self doubt
my insecurities often
get the best of me
even when i
seek
to leave them
behind behind
this face of mine
is an entanglement
of complexities
that often
reveal
themselves as
liabilities rather than
capabilities
hear me

A poem: Written 9.2.2001

November 2, 2008

Be still is what You say

And ‘Know that I AM’

And yet, I carry on

With all the things in my head

 

Inside I really know

That if I just kept quiet

I would hear You better

And take solace

 

Please teach me O Lord

To be quiet at Your feet

To rest in Your grace and love

And be humble and meek

 

You have taught me these things before

But my human heart forgets

So please O Lord, remind it

When I start to get distressed

The Kiss: A Dialogue

October 7, 2008

I am not always a big fan of poetry.  It leaves too much unsaid.  I have, however, long loved this poem.  It is by Robert Herrick.

         1. AMONG thy fancies, tell me this:
             What is the thing we call a kiss?
         2. I shall resolve thee what it is.
             It is a creature born and bred

         Between the lips, all cherry-red,
         By love and warm desires fed:
Chor. And makes more soft the bridal bed.

         2. It is an active flame that flies
             First to the babies of the eyes,
             And charms them there with lullabies:
Chor.    And stills the bride too when she cries.

         2. Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear,
             It frisks, and flies, now here, now there,
             ‘T is now far off, and then ‘t is near:
Chor.    And here, and there, and everywhere.

         1. Has is it a speaking virtue? 2. Yes.
         2. How speaks it, say? 2. Do you but this:
             Part your joined lips, then speaks your kiss.
Chor.    And this love’s sweetest language is.

         1. Has it body? 2. Aye, and wings,
             With thousand rare encolorings;
             And as it flies, it gently sings,
Chor.    Love honey yields, but never stings.

Photo by: Lin Pernille Photography

“Dead-letter office”

March 19, 2008

I wish I had the whole thing, but I only have the first stanza.  This poem is written by Tiel Aisha Ansari who I just found out about through the blog velveteen rabbi.  Maybe I’ll have to see if I can get a book of her poems… 

 Anyway, here ’tis.

I am sorry to tell you that your prayer has been judged insincere
and has been sent to the dead-letter office of prayers
where the angel whose job it is will sort and file it
and close the drawer on its thin helpless squeaking.