Poems 5

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40) The Vices' Voices

They speak for themselves.

Naivete says:

"All that men say is true, or at least most of what they say is true."

"All their facial expressions tell their true feelings."

"Most people in everyday common affairs have no reason to lie or to be deceitful."

"People conduct themselves as normal beings always or almost always. One can usually take them at face value."

Naivete has never met Discretion - never heard of her. But Naivete has a sister:

Pride says:

"The friendship of people towards me comes out of their admiration for me." (sometimes true)

"People see something special in me even if they can't put a finger on it. If they don't, they ought to."

"People respect me because I am something special."

"All centers on me...all."

"All things said and done toward me to my dislike are offensive, wrong and unjustified."

"Don't rebuke me; don't rail on and on. It's only your ignorance and bad attitude. I don't want to hear it."

"I have spoken. Let all men fall down and worship."

"World, watch the grace, see the grace that issues from my precious lips."

"I'm sure glad I'M right."

Blindness is the brother of Naivete and Pride. Blindness says:

"I see me; I see what I do; I see what I see and what I say; there is nothing else."

"I don't see the circumstances, their elements, their noteworthiness. With the help of my sisters, I only believe the flatteries people speak to me, of me."

Destruction, the child of Pride and Blindness (a marriage of incest) says:

"I will blurt out all I know and give my head to the spoilers. I trust them. I don't believe they are spoilers. I only believe they are sincere observers wishing my good or persons sent by God to let me know how I am so special. I need such confirmations. How else can I support my parents in their old age and honor them for all they have done for me?"

Obstinacy, Pride's cousin, says:

"I detest truth and what others may say to me about myself that I do not want to hear. I understand it all and they have nothing to offer me, even if my sisters Insincerity and Self-delusion say with me, "Yes, we like truth, and do hear it and do need it and do understand."

Self-pity, Resentment and Bitterness, as one, cry out:

"You've got it in for me."

"I won't let go."

"You owe me."

41) A Sunset Seen

Death and parting are never easy between loved ones whether they be righteous or otherwise but with the righteous there is the sure hope of coming together again, the hope of a resurrection. The sunset sometimes promises that hope to be fulfilled and while there is sadness in the departure of the precious, there is also a solemn beauty to temper the sorrow and speak of better things to come. It is only by faith that we perceive that the sun will rise again soon.

Coral and lavender,

Quiet magnificence;

Tender departure,

Peaceful farewell.

Beauty and Sadness

Clasping hands,

Warmly embracing,

Shedding tears, saying,

"It's alright, it's okay!"

Gently passing away.

Stettler, Alta., Spring, 1987

42) Help in Disguise

The scalpel, cod liver oil and discipline are examples of the many things in life undesirable and hard to take but which are there usually for our good.

It will not suffice to judge good and bad by our own understanding which is "understanding." We can tell nothing by appearance. So our selfishness is removed by trials and tribulations, fires that purge us of pride, self-sufficiency and arrogance in which we think we know what is best for us.

There come times when we are troubled

And in that trouble we have nowhere to turn it seems.

At such a time of desperation we cry out for help.

Somehow, having asked for help before,

We receive no reply.

But our cry must be loud enough and earnest enough to be heard.

"Prince Valiant, Prince Majesty, come to my aid;

Only you can save me now.

I've waited too long and now I must turn

To such as yourself for deliverance.

Oh! But I need a miracle!

I need a shining light,

The sound of thunder and a shaking of earth;

No less will do for me now!

A chariot of God; to take me up

Leaving my enemies far below.

Who is this man I wait for?

A man in shining armour,

Fitted from head to toe;

With perfect knowledge, power and wisdom,

Compassion with overflow;

A flaming sword in his hand,

Magnificent shield in arm;

There is no standing up to him...

Invincible is his name.

Who is it I hear knocking at the door?

Another enemy? Is it more trouble?"

I view through the peephole an unpleasant spectacle...

I'm not at all amused.

'What is it?' I ask in an impatient voice.

'Why do you bother me now?

Can't you see I'm in trouble enough?

Besides, I'm expecting a welcome guest.'"

"I heard of your trouble" the man replied,

In not too impressive a tone.

"I came if perhaps I could help you out

And I'm glad I found you at home."

Incredulous, I gasped in utter dismay!

"You?!" I spluttered out.

"What height of presumption and lunacy

Can possibly cause you to speak?!

Just look at you now, as ugly as sin,

Your clothes are ragged and worn;

Your face isn't beaming - you have no horse;

Don't you think it was wrong to be born?

I'm looking for someone strong and great!

Who else can get me out of this mess?

If you can possibly help carry water or cut wood,

Go to him that needs it."

"I admit" the stranger replied, "I'm not a pretty sight

But my credentials are not my looks.

If you really believe that sight is right,

You have no hope at all."

"I know what I need and I know what I want

And the likes of yourself won't change that," I said.

"I'll thank you to remove yourself from my land

And go back where you came from...

If they'll have you!"

With that I cursed him to his face

And cursed my circumstances

That instead of a hero to help in great need,

I received a bothersome twit.

Back to his base returned the stranger

And went directly to the stable.

He unsaddled the steed and gave him to eat

The finest oats in the land.

Servants attended, removing his armour,

Preparing him for the King.

He bathed and groomed and dressed himself

In the aftermath of his battle and journey.

"Prince Valiant, Prince Majesty, noble and true,

How did you fare with the man who cried,

With the man who asked help in his trouble?"

"My Lord," he replied to his honoured King,

"The cry was not from the heart of hearts.

I came with my horse and armour,

In magnificent array as You sent me

But he could not see clearly through his peephole,

Blinded by the deeds of his heart.

He thought he saw a beggar,

A man more wretched than he, and

He refused to grant me entrance,

Commanding I get off his land."

"Be at peace, My son, It isn't your fault.

The time is not yet ripe.

But sending you, he'll one day know

That he was not without help.

And when the time does come

That he'll be respectful to you,

Then that will end all his troubles for,

He'll be respectful to Me."

Lethbridge, 1984

43) Help

We are all in need of help. But is it the noun or the verb we need?

Woe is me! How can this be?

Where is that help I have sought?

Nothing but wretched know-it-alls

Come to disturb my thought - and my peace.

Peace? What peace?

What am I saying? Who am I trying to kid?

If this is peace then give me war

And I shall rest and sleep and snore.

Time passed on and matters grew worse.

I soon lost all that I had.

My friends had gone their merry old ways,

My family too was gone.

My business failed, uncertainty prevailed;

I slowly began to wrestle with myself

For a change.

What's this? A knock? A tiny knock?

I haven't had a knock since that beggar came by!

I wonder who it might be?

Eh? A whimper? A sniffing? A sobbing?

More trouble! Add fuel to the fire!

Is there no rest for the wicked?!

I opened the door and there stood a boy,

One hand over his eyes and one on his knee,

From where trickled blood to my doorstep!

Sir! the lad cried with tear-stained face,

I stumbled and fell just in front of your place.

I have nobody to help me.

Are you a doctor or someone to bind my wound?

Angered at first at the gory mess,

I nearly chased him away.

But though I knew I was only a laborer,

He had flattered me with his question.

Fancy me a doctor!?

“Lad, you have saved your knee,” I thought.

“Oh, very well, come in, come in.

We'll see what to do with your wound.”

I bound up his leg and sent him away,

Not as friendly as I could have been.

But after all he was a bit of a nuisance

And I did give him some sweets to cheer him.

As I cleaned off my step

I began to think that

Though I was but a common fellow,

Yet he took my help (there was nobody else),

And he went away for the better.

And how was it I helped that little pest?

There was a time I wouldn't be bothered!

Am I changing somehow or am I going mad?

I actually did him a favor - without charge.

It's plain to see that though he is hard,

A change is slowly transpiring

A little more time mingled with hope;

Perhaps from evil he is tiring.

These were the words of the Sovereign King

As He spoke to His servant, the boy.

“You were sent to bring good news

And I thank you for your sacrifice.”

Lethbridge, 1984

44) Rools Four Inglish Spelling

Wee knead ownlee two studdie a langwidge uther than Inglish and soon beegin too diskover thuh mullteatood uv inncunsistenseas inn grambarr and spelling uv Inglish.

And isn't it interesting that when Esperanto is introduced with its reason, logic and organized structure, we nevertheless prefer the disorder and confusion of our own language, be it English or otherwise? Needless to say, this is not the day of peace, harmony and wun tung four awl. Rite? Write? Reight? Right?

Ring rang rung, Bring brang brung,

Sing sang sung, Ding dang dung!

Rools Four Inglish Spelling

Wun. Teak lawjick, kut it down as aye bough and throw it inn aye slough ore aye trough. Butt that is knot enough.

Too. Bee prepaired two bee confowndead, purpleckst and frustraited.

Therdlee. Eckspecked two suspecked loozing yore mined.

Fore. Dew knot feal thair iz eckneething rong with yoo.

Phive. Fourghet triying two halve aye shoor phyre sisthame.

Sicks. Thee unfourchunit groop yule joyne iph ignouring mie cownsull, and

Seaven. Rimes with heven four whitch yu must hoap aund whitch iz whare yu mey think yu gow iff yu kwit inglish aund teak up sum uther langwidge.

Lethbridge, 1984, 85

45) I See a Boy

It has been said that confidence is a plant of slow growth in an aged bosom. This can also be said of its lack. How crippling is the power of uncertainty and fear! It can reduce an otherwise mighty man to an emaciated personality fit for little more than to exist.

Ironically the victim is paralyzed so effectively by his own power which makes him so weak. In this he is practically omnipotent so far as his state is concerned. Nothing can alter this condition but a fiery judgment that comes into every man's existence sooner or later and either delivers or destroys the wretched soul depending on his inclination and desire.

I see a BOY.

He hungers

for an acknowledgment and appreciation of himself.

He hungers for love -

which only a good father could give -

but finds none.

"See, daddy? See, daddy?" he exclaims,

waving his arms wildly.

His Daddy ignores him.

Always crestfallen, the boy is unable to cease

trying to prove, to please.

No matter the greatness of his efforts and accomplishments;

they are not enough.

His countenance tells

both his effort and his frustration.

I see a SOLDIER.

What an excellent soldier he is!

What a fine sword he possesses!

All his armament, his physique and his skills

are to be both admired and feared

by friend and foe alike.

But what will he do in

the Firestorm that approaches,

nay, that is even here?

As the father,

it recognizes no sword;

it laughs at physique

and scoffs at skill and experience.

I see a PRISONER...

in a cell.

His cell is small.

He starts and is afraid.

He darts from place to place.

He seeks solace

in his cot, his clock, his sink, his toilet,

his food tray, his allowance, his books and even

his bars.

Though he waits for the light from his window,

he prefers the dark.

At once

it comforts and discomforts him.

It hides him from others

but not from himself.

And it hides others from him.

He receives little consolation

from other prisoners,

whether from that they are

or what they are.

Not at all alone

he is very much alone.

He guards his own cell,

keeping a vigilant watch on himself

lest he escape.

The key to his door

is in his cell;

It is rusty;

his fading eye loses sight of it

and fading memory

awareness of it.

What a wonder!

Why won't he take the key

and release himself?

Ah! He thinks it to be only a locking key!

That which would release him

he rejects and fears.

A message is passed

through his window

in rays.

Will he discover

that a father

awaits to shower

him

with all that his heart could desire

to its innermost depths?

Will he receive the new weapons and power

to prevail, yea, overcome

in the Firestorm?

Will the message get through

or will the guard see it

and prevent it

hiding it from him

telling him it will not do?

I see a GUARD

FORMIDABLE, thorough,

only secondly by training

but firstly by nature.

"You're a man, not a boy!"

he says.

"You are satisfied and not hungry!"

he says.

"You're the father, not the son!"

he says.

"You are an invincible soldier;

nothing can prevent you!"

he says.

"You are not afraid!"

he says.

"You are sound in sight,

pre-eminent in memory

and evaluation!"

he says.

"You're not a prisoner"

he says,

"but free to come and go

possessing many books

cots

sinks

toilets

rooms

not to mention ample time and money"

he says.

"The Firestorm is a myth,

a figment

of a dreaming

idealistic

fanatical

religious

grandstanding

misfitting

zealot,

with more opinion and

only one way,

a narrow way,

a blind way

of seeing...

I think..."

he says.

(Make fast the prisoner there, guard)

"I KNOW"

he says.

He takes out pleasant cloth...

"You're not alone"

he says.

"See, family,

friends,

associates,

some close.

What more can you

rightfully

ask?

Beware"

he says.

"Be satisfied

with what you have"

he says.

"It is a virtue

to be content

with your lot"

he says.

Persuading, the GUARD

conceals the key

with pleasant cloth,

cloth neither good nor evil of itself

but pleasant,

and secures

the PRISONER

a while longer.

Lethbridge, 1988

46) The Fire of God

The man of darkness, the carnal man in each one of us, scarcely realizes the implications of his stance and opposition to his Creator. He does not recognize the futility, much less the harm he does himself in what he considers to be his right or privilege to freedom of expression according to his understanding. Least of all does he recognize the Lord coming as a thief to him in order to deliver or judge.

The fire rages and

Nothing stands in its way...

The all consuming fire of God:

Who can bear it?

A fearful and terrible storm,

The wicked are swept away,

Having stood and hollered,

Eaten and drunk,

Laughed and scoffed.

Now they are nothing.

So great and terrible is that fire

That we pity even our enemies,

Repentant that they stood against us.

But against us they stood,

Pushing away their good,

Despising their very lives,

Pulling seed out of the ground,

Poisoning their wells,

Burning their houses,

Slitting their throats,

Hating the urgent help,

Vigorously throwing out

The butter and milk and all good food,

Eagerly saving and eating

The eggshells and cardboard cartons,

The cellophane wrappers and bones.

Would the beggar refuse a banquet?

Would a dying man reject a physician?

But our enemies have done just so.

The fire rages, and

Nothing stands in its way;

Only a terrible fire

Can clear away the refuse

And cleanse the contradiction

Of the wicked and their ways.

Lethbridge, late 80's, early 90's

47) Mystery

Flattery and beauty are very powerful assets at her disposal and the harlot uses them well. Not only young fools but many a strong and wise man has been rendered completely captive to her seductive powers. Even Solomon yielded his life to her for her promised benefits.

But these benefits are very shallow and only temporary, as intense as they at times become, and leave one an empty shell, deluded into thinking he is alive and a chosen servant of the Lord Jesus Christ. In reality he is a whoremonger, at one with the harlot and an express enemy of Jesus Christ.

Her powers are awesome

her countenance spellbinding

she touches the stones

gently caressing

their response is instant

they grow excited

they move

and enlarge themselves

she takes hold

gently but firmly

bestowing a pleasure

almost impossible to resist

"Service me and I'll give

pleasure forever -

refuse me and I'll crush you"

an offer hard to refuse

"It is heaven," they say

she plays them

they ejaculate

in all directions

their substance to the earth

her fame they spread abroad

they tell the news

and become the bearers

of death and destruction

spending themselves

and loving it so.

Moon River, February 15, 1991

48) Immaturity

If youth were so important, would we not have been given the wherewith to embrace and enjoy it? But trials and tribulations come as a flood to deliver us, to teach us, to age us.

Aged wine, how good! Green fruit, how unsatisfactory! Yet this green fruit doesn't know. It covets its youth, its strength, its firmness, its expectation of longevity and does not care to be consumed. Yes, it much prefers rather to do the consuming.

Youth must be told it is there to be consumed and not to consume, that it must wait for that which to it would seem so repulsive as if waiting for something so desirable.

Resisting reality, the young one is consumed and loses himself. Embracing reality, time unveils the beauty of maturity and the once young finds new youth imperishable.

Immaturity says:

My will, not Thine, be done.

I want it,

I want it my way,

I want it all,

I want it now.

Immaturity says:

I'm old enough,

I can do it,

I deserve it,

It's coming to me.

Immaturity is indignant

at correction,

at instruction

and discipline.

Immaturity

harbors resentment,

seeks revenge,

a settling of scores

much in its favor.

It takes only the good,

despising the bad,

not discerning the difference

between the two.

Immaturity presumes

to know,

to know better,

to know all,

despising knowledge

and the paths thereto leading.

Wisdom is an alien

despised, abhorred;

folly is embraced

as one's dear life.

Yet immaturity ends,

whether by maturity or destruction,

but it ends.

Moon River, Feb. 24, 1991

49) Periphery

Living with loose ends that seem perpetual is one of the difficult facts of life, especially if those ends were not expected to be loose and most of all if those loose ends had at first appeared to have the promise of completion upon which we set our hopes.

As we press on toward the mark we gradually begin to learn that those things we counted important, achievable and our destiny were really only elements of a process. With the process complete in any of its stages, we discover firstly a change in ourselves and then the elements we once considered so important are cancelled with our ready consent.

The destination is not without but within. When once the work is done within, those outward things we sought fade away, no longer perceived as desirable or important.

How many times have I thought I arrived only to discover I was just beginning! That which was is no longer relevant, as a fading flower that falls to the ground.

One must come to the sobering truth that all we do is vanity. The greatest works of men upon earth are entirely vain.

What's more, as much can be accomplished and\or learned in the most mundane and simple things and activities of our existence as in what we perceive to be higher and more noble works.

Who has the measure? The issue is not one of what we do or how well we do it but one of motive and attitude. There is the key of deliverance from Periphery.

Periphery, Periphery,

Your victims going round,

Seeing, smelling,

Even touching,

Never but never embracing.

Back and forth

This time, no, next time,

Next time THE time;

Carrots dangling in circumference,

The center obscured without end,

Faithful sentinels posted,

Drawn swords uplifted,

Guarding the Gate of Total Freedom,

The entry of which brings peace

And joy and satisfaction.

Periphery impenetrable,

Periphery pretending

To be the destination.

Moon River Estates, Ab., April, 1991