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And Now One Is Found

And Now One Is Found

 

The Nigerian schoolgirls

(hashtag)BringBackOurGirls

Remember

 

How would we

Understand two hundred

Seventy

 

How would such a number

Be taken without our

Noticing

 

In what kind of truck

And to what place all

Hidden

 

In our neighborhood-filled

Planet-parts, this is

Hard

 

From our earthen places

We cannot count

How

 

But in part we can’t believe

Not because it didn’t

Happen

 

Tragically, criminally,

Numerically—what transpired

Transpired

 

And with our questions and

New trepidations here is her

Body

 

Now we have her with

Child and husband on the fringes

Found

 

We can understand, now

Perhaps, a new story of

One

14

MS804

MS804

 

While they were up there

God took them home

Not to be taken as a platitude

Anger remains below

 

Confusion, aching concern

Managing all that’s in

The brain and

The human heart

That breaks in the world

 

Around, while more loss

Is measured out

And poured over like

Ashes, reminders that peace

Is not on board

Above or on the ground

 

War of attack

War of flawed things

The first mark being profit

Safety will never work as second

9

Psalm 41, steward’s song

Psalm 41

steward’s song

 

You are God

Female and male

You are king

 

I am servant

And for work

I am steward

 

We are bound

Guardians and

Keepers

 

Whose lord

Returns one day

To take an

 

Accounting

What was made

And shared

 

For what we’ve

Possessed

Earth-infancy

6

Psalm 40, song about the mind of God

Psalm  40

song about the mind of God

 

Lord, we think we know

You—and we don’t

 

Otherwise, everything we

Do would be waged in

Love

12

Psalm 39, a psalm of lament

Psalm 39

a psalm of lament

 

Why must we kill each

Other, Lord?  Why is

Cain more of an

Example than a single

Lesson?

 

Your word tells us to

Love; yet you have

Commanded war, I

Know—does war work

When you are its

General?

 

We kill each other in

Small ways as well

 

In kindness withheld,

All respect scorned,

And in quotidian

Wounding that will not

Subside, such is our

Wayward will

 

And lack of empathy

 

Keep showing us the

Better way, O Lord

 

And when we must be

Brutal, let us yield

The field to your

Strategy and control

15

Psalm 38, a morning song

Psalm 38

a morning song

 

A normal day, at last

Blue sky and green leaves

The air is cool

 

Ablutions and then coffee

I sit here

Bird-song is low

 

Maybe birds are taking

Time to let this day

Herald itself

 

I sit here

With a cool current on

My back and liquid warmth

 

Close by: you give me

This peace, dear Lord

And my heart

 

Only begins, with what

Capacity it has,

To thank you

14

This Is What I Care About

This Is What I Care About

 

This is what I care about

Family—three brothers, sister,

Brother-in-law, sisters-in-law,

Too

 

Niece and nephews, two

Children in the next generation

Four dogs for now, no cats

I know of (since mine died)

 

Friends—those who have

Work and those who need it,

Who are healthy and who

Struggle to get through the

Day without so much pain

 

Neighbors—those who make

Up my community and those

Who try to disfigure it

 

Peace that hardly yet prevails

Love and grace that it might

Abound

 

God who doesn’t need me

But regards me as one part

Of creation, anyway

 

And you

 

For so many reasons

 

For I know that you care, too

10

No Time for Corruption

No Time for Corruption

 

Hell, no time for disagreement

The Kurds need recognition

Identification as a community

Militias need discipline

 

If they’re going to exist at all

Iraq needs to find its center

If it’s going to overwhelm ISIS

And not defeat itself

 

What do we do, we from the

Outside?

 

We have resources, maybe we

Have time, we have perspective

 

More importantly, we can care

 

Stratagems and de-stabling

Agendas aside, sixty-six persons

Died—were killed—in a bombing

In Sadr marketplace

 

I know we don’t know this place

We might not know how to say

It

 

But sixty-six

 

How many families is that

 

I swear, we should invoke the

Real Isis, god of wisdom and

Brother to the god of the dead

 

Let her sort it out, if we cannot

Find the wisdom in ourselves

 

 

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/may/11/baghdad-car-bomb-kills-dozens-sadr-city?utm_source=esp&utm_medium=Email&utm_campaign=GU+Today+USA+-+morning+briefing+2016&utm_term=171647&subid=16706344&CMP=ema_a-morning-briefing_b-morning-briefing_c-US_d-1

8

Young Frankenstein

Young Frankenstein

 

This phrase came to mind

Out of the season’s time:

When the veil fails, speaking

Of Hallowe’en

 

This is what those of ancient

Lore believed—that gossamer-

Iron webs and steel-misty

 

Vapors held the other side

On a spellbound, ritualed

Line

 

Except for

 

This one time each year

 

I don’t know what this means;

The child in me didn’t

Care

 

I dressed colorfully, unusually

 

Looked through eyeholes

Of masks sweated ’round

The fabric on my face

 

I was young and relatively

Free

 

To run my neighborhood

 

Receiving chocolate reward

For feeling the thrill of cool

Air as more night rushed

Over my skin,

 

Through folds in costumes,

 

The faster that I moved

7

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