Morning Commute

(Easter 2015)

 

I hurry off to work

in the early dawn.

I cut through

the cemetery,

past the grieving

friends and widows,

and as I reach

the shade of

the caves,

I knock over

some poor soul.

As I reach my hand out

to lift him up,

I notice the scar on

his wrist.

"Nasty cut, you have there."

Arisen, he grunts and says "Thanks."

"A lot to do today. Shalom."

"Me too. Shalom."

And as I reach the east gate,

with my face meeting the rising sun,

I hear a cry

"He is not here!"

Mama told me

Some students take offense very easily.

During one lecture, a student asked a question I’ve heard many times: “If we evolved from monkeys, why are there still monkeys?” My response was and is always the same: we didn’t evolve from monkeys. Humans and monkeys evolved from a common ancestor. One ancestral population evolved in one direction toward modern-day monkeys, while another evolved toward humans. The explanation clicked for most students, but not all, so I tried another. I asked the students to consider this: Catholics are the oldest Christian denomination, and so if Protestants evolved from Catholics, why are there still Catholics? Some students laughed, some found it a clarifying example, and others were clearly offended.

Two days later, a student walked down to the lectern after class and informed me that I was wrong about Catholics. He said Baptists were the first Christians and that this is clearly explained in the Bible. His mother told him so. I asked where this was explained in the Bible. He glared at me and said, “John the Baptist, duh!” and then walked away.

Defending Darwin

Ash Wednesday

(2015)

Joel 2:12-17

No gifts.
No chocolate.
No parties.
No alleluias.

Just the faithful
gathering at
His command
on an
ordinary
winter Wednesday.

They pray that
their hardened hearts
be opened
so the ashes
of pain and sin
that are
encased in
them
be scraped away. 

To Be Rid of a Rival

For this curse,       you need a liter of good grain liquor

and a heartful       of unquenchable hate.

Keep the bottle corked,       and spend a long, dry night

thinking of everything       your rival has

that ought to be yours.

                                     At dawn, roll up your trousers

and set off barefoot       down an unmaintained

side road that dissolves into sand,       then dead-ends

at the river.       Walk upstream until you see

the swift skein of the water       tangle and fray,

marking the snag

                              where the river dumps its garbage.

An almost spokeless       bicycle wheel, an oil drum,

two traffic cones       and the aluminum

bones of a beach chair       have fetched up on this altar

of wet rock and weed.       Wade in as close

as you can to make your own

                                                 ugly offering.

The stream may be icy,       but your stoked-up rage

will keep you warm       as you unstop the bottle

and drink deep,       wishing your rival

gone gone gone gone.       Your curse will gain

strength with every swig.

                                            Picture a heart attack;

picture a jittery       mugger with a gun;

a missed stoplight       and a truck; a sailboat

in a thunderstorm.       When your head starts to swim,

take a final pull,       then throw the bottle hard

onto the trash heap. A trail

                                               of white lightning will

glitter for an instant like shards       of glass across the air.

Wish once more.       If your libation is accepted,

some misfortune will soon       carry your rival away­—

cast off, washed up, worn down—       until nothing is left

but a slight catch       in the river’s throat.

 Melissa Monroe

ecclesiastes

The trick is that you’re willing to help them.
The rule is to sound like you’re doing them a favor.

The rule is to create a commission system.
The trick is to get their number.

The trick is to make it personal:
No one in the world suffers like you.

The trick is that you’re providing a service.
The rule is to keep the conversation going.

The rule is their parents were foolish,
their children are greedy or insane.

The rule is to make them feel they’ve come too late.
The trick is that you’re willing to make exceptions.

The rule is to assume their parents abused them.
The trick is to sound like the one teacher they loved.

And when they say “too much,”
give them a plan.

And when they say “anger” or “rage” or “love,”
say “give me an example.”

The rule is everyone is a gypsy now.
Everyone is searching for his tribe.

The rule is you don’t care if they ever find it. 

The trick is that they feel they can.

Khaled Mattawa

Healing

The desire to grow without dying

reveals not all childish things have been put away.

This was the still and wounding prick

Peter felt during the cock-crow at dawn.

Boy, I bet that was quite the morning, huh? -

a warm-up crucifixion before the main event.

All illusions of hasty transformations were squashed

as the sun began its crawl over Golgotha.

There the stony disciple began his betrayal of

the gross inadequacy of speedy recoveries

in favor of the long difficult repentance

required to save the soul.

John Blase

Youth

Youth is not a period of time.

 It is a state of mind, 

a result of the will, 

a quality of the imagination, 

a victory of courage over timidity, 

of the taste of adventure 
over the love of comfort. 

A man doesn't grow old 

because he has lived a certain number of years. 

A man grows old when he deserts his ideal. 

The years may wrinkle his skin, 

but deserting his ideal wrinkles his soul. 

Preoccupations, fears, doubts, and despair 

are the enemies, which slowly bow us 

toward earth and turn us into dust before death. 

You will remain young as long as 

you are open to what is beautiful, 
good and great; 

receptive to the messages of 
other men and women, 

of nature and of God. 

If one day you should become bitter, 

pessimistic and gnawed by despair, 

may God have mercy on your old man's soul.

General Douglas MacArthur