Sermon Notes Poetry: Isaiah 52:13-53:12
From my sleepy poet's mind, more Sermon Notes poetry. I admit, I look forward to this quiet activity while the speaker... speaks. :)
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Something is wrong,
the SUV's
crazy-loving
money while kids
roam streets—
easy to forget about
me in video games,
one world
with or without
me.
*
He's gonna do it
anyway; go home
and read it yourself...
Cyrus-old-foolishness
coming again.
*
If our
know-it-all
goldfish
argued with us
about methods
of tooth brushing,
we might give him a bit
of our wisdom teeth.
*
Zebras with
sunburns
riddle us
with cross
mystery,
scandalous
fresh.
*
Something twisted,
sister, this servant
is no handsome prince
who'll rule
everything.
*
Tender shoot,
root
transplant
to dry ground—
precarious
start.
*
Look over
at the overlooked
face-hide-man
picked on, last
picked for kick
ball,
passed over,
sorrow familiar
wrong track
troubles
savior-man.
*
The heart of the
poem, the hinge
on which it
all turns—
surely
losing by
taking ours,
ours— does
it surprise
you, my
captive?
*
Dorothy Sayers
wants palaces
without circle of
fire, jungle water hole
leopard lion
fear armies
blood-roll garments
and a God acquainted
with all our
babed grief.
*
Rivers of
shalom-rounded
society,
secure through
one small
iniquity
sheep.
*
Alone by the
bed,
wondering-sin-
son-punish-
love-son
approved
lamb-slaughter.
*
Take an
elevator to the top
saving floor, push
a button past the Cyrus
floor, the bad-me,
crazy-me floor,
hitch a ride
on the back of a Herculean
God who draws the whole world
by a love-cable cord.
*
She'll sing a
stick-for-you
song— tell someone,
would you?
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Something is wrong,
the SUV's
crazy-loving
money while kids
roam streets—
easy to forget about
me in video games,
one world
with or without
me.
*
He's gonna do it
anyway; go home
and read it yourself...
Cyrus-old-foolishness
coming again.
*
If our
know-it-all
goldfish
argued with us
about methods
of tooth brushing,
we might give him a bit
of our wisdom teeth.
*
Zebras with
sunburns
riddle us
with cross
mystery,
scandalous
fresh.
*
Something twisted,
sister, this servant
is no handsome prince
who'll rule
everything.
*
Tender shoot,
root
transplant
to dry ground—
precarious
start.
*
Look over
at the overlooked
face-hide-man
picked on, last
picked for kick
ball,
passed over,
sorrow familiar
wrong track
troubles
savior-man.
*
The heart of the
poem, the hinge
on which it
all turns—
surely
losing by
taking ours,
ours— does
it surprise
you, my
captive?
*
Dorothy Sayers
wants palaces
without circle of
fire, jungle water hole
leopard lion
fear armies
blood-roll garments
and a God acquainted
with all our
babed grief.
*
Rivers of
shalom-rounded
society,
secure through
one small
iniquity
sheep.
*
Alone by the
bed,
wondering-sin-
son-punish-
love-son
approved
lamb-slaughter.
*
Take an
elevator to the top
saving floor, push
a button past the Cyrus
floor, the bad-me,
crazy-me floor,
hitch a ride
on the back of a Herculean
God who draws the whole world
by a love-cable cord.
*
She'll sing a
stick-for-you
song— tell someone,
would you?
Labels: poetry, sermon notes
posted by L.L. Barkat at
8:00 AM
1 Comments:
Ok, you have another book here: Sermon Notes! I love these, the voice you use, the simplicity with its profundity, the humor, the pieces that often are moving.
Think of a book with chapters (Bible and verse) illustrated with collage art. People could select a chapter at an online site and submit a possible image for selection. (This is a Patti Digh idea that has resulted in some fabulous books. You have the making of one.)
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