Saturday, January 31, 2015

Douglas Polk- A Poem

Holy Spirit

Jesus Christ,
the sacrifice,
allowed God's presence upon the earth,
the holy spirit alive,
both inside us,
and out,
grace builds and grows though the ages,
a force for good,
God's presence abounds,
even in the darkness,
and despair,
God's spirit always with us,
always there,
trying to help us grow,
towards goodness,
and peace serene.

Friday, January 30, 2015

Danny P. Barbare- Two Poems

The Homeless

A faithful friend the homeless
maybe. He holds a box lid that
says “work for food.”  Why come
he can’t eat at the Salvation Army
or soup kitchen on Stone
Avenue?  But to
say this is to say having
always had a Corelle plate to serve
beef stew, carrots, and potatoes
or corn beef and cabbage
cooked good and slow in
a Rival Crock Pot for a Sunday meal
and a house to call
home. Maybe a divorce. Mental illness.
Medical. Or loss of  income.
Their demons that prevent them
from getting
help. How a shadow can lean away.
Except for the light of Jesus Christ.

The Man Always Walking

A man wears a heavy coat,
raggedy clothes
and no shoes on his feet and
has a scraggly beard. Who he
is it seems nobody knows or even
cares where he comes from
or goes, but he always seems
to be around, faithfully,
whether cold rain or sun.
As if it is He who walks on
earth to this day and carries the
Cross of Calvary in front of
Walmart, or bathing in the
sink and brushing
his teeth at the county library.

Danny P. Barbare has recently appeared in Doxa, The Santa Clara Review, and Assisi Online Journal.

Friday, January 23, 2015

Linda M. Crate- A Poem

people say 
people say i seek salvation in all the
wrong places,
but i don't think i do—
i've found more of God in a water fall
than i have sometimes a church
i have found more Jesus in a tear filled prayer
than in a room of 'believers';
don't tell me how to worship and how to pray
or how to have communion;
it is my life to live,
God has given me free will just as He has
given you
so live and let live—
you have no right to judge anyone
so don't start throwing stones
at me
you are not all saints
i know your deep dark secrets you try to hide,
and i have had dreams about churches
burning in their own wickedness;
don't tell me i don't know what i say because i am
for if God is for me who can be against me?
no one, that is certain.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Faraje Nyandiko- A Poem

He Is Able

Just when I was about to loose hope
Entangled in series of frustrations,
Some voice from my heart said nope,
Urging me to confront my limitations.
So, I realized it was the voice of God.
There and then my spirit got revived,
Right then began to replace wrong
Unexpectedly as my reasoning thrived,
Like an iron on fire I became strong.
Yes, I was feeling the touch of God.
Charged and blessed is how I felt
After that miraculous restoration.
Receive Christ and he will melt
Everything that’s causing you affliction,
Sooner or later because he is God.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

J.D. DeHart- Two Poems

King David
See him now, tiny child
slinging a stone and see him later
writing a praise song.
See him in shame, standing
on the rooftop, and see him flee
his own son’s blade.
See him wrap his arm
around Jonathan.  See him dance
madly.  See him be loved by God.
Figure of mankind, scraps of courage,
dignity, and failure, king and human.

The Good News
The Good News is that Jesus
came, but what does that really mean.
A celestial cloud figure returns,
parting clouds like waves.
He divides the earth with a sword.
Harvest time.
A lowly figure is born in a stable
and put to death by the state.
He is human and God and yet human,
and yet…
Tempted, sobbing, crying out.
Triumphant and prophetic.
Perhaps the Good News is really that now
we have a name to put with the kindness
we need to show one another.

JD DeHart is the author of the collection, The Truth About Snails.

Monday, January 19, 2015

Andrew M. Bowen- Two Poems


What did trilobites
dream when God walked the waves on
Ordovician nights?


City lights stain clouds
the shade of drying blood, but
the chilling rain’s ceased
and I draw warmth and joy from
God’s love and mercy.  Amen.

Mr. Bowen is a sales manager in Bloomington, IN.  He has published several poems in various markets including Calvary Cross and recently submitted his first novel for publication.  He is an actor who has appeared in eight independent films and five stage productions.

Charles Burgess- A Poem

A Walk with God

Look to the heavens and praise his name
Just pray to him he will take away your pain
Just walk with god the bad will fade away
Walk with god when the devil tries to bring you down
Don’t be afraid to take his hand
Just walk with him to the promised lands.
Don’t let people bring you down hold onto your faith
Walk with god and you will be safe
Shut your eyes and open your hearts just walk with him
He takes away sadness all you do is pray
God loves us all you just got to have faith
Walk with god everyday he will free you from the chains bound to your soul
I can go on and on of how god makes me feel
I don’t care about those who throw stones
I will be praying for them when the lord takes me home.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Billy Campbell- Two Poems

Gifts of God

In a sea of soft color
A fiery sun sets
As if leaving an impression
So none forgets

Departing in a masterpiece
that none could afford
Framed in the heavens
The art of our Lord

Sacrificing his Son
to show us the way
Gifts of his love
are revealed every day

A glimpse of his glory
and the beauty that awaits
for living a life
as our Father dictates

I'll forever be grateful
however it may go
Though weak in my faith
I pray that He knows

If only I had listened
to what He had to say
Learning to trust in His love
and not be mislead

Joy in Living

Dawn is breaking
as life awakes
Another chance given
to learn from mistakes

A flaming Glory
rising over the trees
Heralds the morning
Our Lord has conceived

Birds sing in celebration
of this miraculous feat
Morning dew of the angels
Happy tears that they weep

Waste no time on regrets
or sorrows of past
Our Father has promised
the hardships won't last

Life is to short
Its beauty so brief
How is joy known 
without any grief 

Monday, January 5, 2015

Tyrel Franson- Two Poems

The Upside-Down Kingdom

In this land,
Stars strech out with rays of darkness cold,
The void emits a shining heat,
Freezing water burns my flesh and bones,
And I am quenched with fire sweet.
Here still, my God is present.

In this land,
Forests bury branches in the ground,
With roots that reach toward the sun.
Lightning tickles pink the puffy clouds,
And thunder lulls with softest hum.
Here still, my God is present.

In this land,
The poles are strewn in stoney cays,
With madly rushing magma rivers,
And ships which sail on lava waves,
Point compass at the cold equator.
Here still, my God is present.

In this land,
Giant whales warble as they fly,
With flapping fins and feathered tails,
While through the ocean avians dive,
On wings of irridescent scale.
Here still my God is present.

This is the Upside-Down Kingdom,
Where the driest bones are wrapped in flesh
And empty eyes are given sight.
Where the rich are robed in ragged dress,
And starving souls are clothed in white.
They are in God's presence.

This is the Upside-Down Kingdom,
Where the greatest bow before the least,
And every master is a slave.
Soldiers boldly march on shoes of peace,
Not to kill, but to save.
We are in God's presence.

This is the Upside-Down Kingdom,
Where the purest one took all the stripes
That my own sin had earned for me
Here I must die to find true life
Because my mortal flesh is weak.
I am in God's presence.

All the universe is in his hands,
Let no man think to contradict,
God radiant glory fills the heavens,
He rules from first breath to last trumpet,
When we will all be standing in the presence of God.

Let all creation praise his greatness,
Which mortal minds can't comprehend,
His backward kingdom stretches boundless,
This empire of evil will come to an end,
And we,
The Bride of Christ,
Will dwell in his house,
For ever and ever, Amen.

The Volcano, the Devil, and the Dragon

We sneak up on him while he is asleep to observe him without being consumed by his voracious conflagration. Smoke wafts from his jagged spine, the collected smoke of every city he has ever burned. Each plume is the trophy banner of a defeated enemy strewn across his back. If we listen closely, we can hear a high pitched sound echoing with the escaping steam, screams of the souls he has already savoured. His mouth stretches in in a gusting yawn, and we are temporarily blinded by the blast of smoke that comes from it, blanketing us in grey ash. In this colourless landscape, the sun is lost, and becomes nothing but a memory. This foul substance can even enter the lungs, causing a slow, choking death. Once thay foul fog has cleared, we gaze down his gullet, into the fiery pit below. His gut bubbles with the red-hot promise of death. The stench of sulphur pours from his pores, a mere byproduct of the viscous, burning liquid in his belly. When we hear the rumbling of his stomach, we know that he is longing for the taste of more lives to feed his unending hunger. His scales have an outward sheen, the slippery residue of blood in which he has bathed. They are a dark void which devouers the light. This hardened covering serves as armour against all but the most powerful of piercings. His chest and underbelly are decorated with sparkling gemstones and precious metals, medals he has awarded himself for proving his mettle. He sees himself as brave for struggling in a losing battle against the strictures and structures set upon him. He is a stealthy beast, no one knows exactly when he will once more awaken to devour houses, cities, and even nations. Some say he was even responsible for sinking an entire island beneath the waves, relishing the inhabitants' cries for mercy like the sweetest symphony. He stirs his massive bulk, and with an earth-shaking roar he announces his coming. Those bated fires which once resided inside of him pour from his mouth to bring death upon all that is good. Those sharp claws that were sheathed stretch across the land to slash at anyone foolish enough to stay within his reach. But even when he has annihilated everything in sight, there is hope. For in the wake of his wrath, life springs anew. That bright vigour which had been covered by apathy reawakens in the light of destruction. And, one day, he shall be bound, so that he may never revel in havock again. That mountain of destruction wil be chained by civilization, that beast of flame will be silenced by a holy sword, and the one that was known as Lucifer will be bound and cast into the fiery pit forever. The Volcano, the Devil, and the Dragon will trouble us no more.