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Posts Tagged ‘poetry’

My cousin spoke with me last night, and recounted the story of her grandmother and grandfather who no longer attend sermons at their Nazarene church.  There are aunts and uncles too, who helped to build the church, who are no longer even attending there.  One was an assistant preacher, and he was basically run off.  All of this because some upstart from a  college in Colorado came in as pastor. 

 This man has taken the core group of Christians who started this church and has broken their hearts.  Some he has shooed away.  My cousin’s grandmother now attends only Sunday school.  The loud rock music they call worship sent her husband away because he physically cannot sit in the service.  It hurts his ears. 

When my cousin’s grandmother told the pastor about this issue, the response was to only get louder and louder.  My cousin says the church is filled with people her grandmother doesn’t know, all the old faithful Christians are gone.  She says when her grandmother talks about it, she lowers her head and nearly weeps every time.  This should not be, a woman in her later years mourning over her church. 

 “Put up or shut up old lady, that is what you get”  has not been said aloud but has been said in action.  These elderly people could teach the young so much, but they have been shunned and forgotten.  What a disgrace, what discrimination.  When a generation forgets it’s elders, it is nothing but sinful and shameful and wrong. 

A poem I wrote a while back gives my feelings on the issue:

 

Shame on you

for proclaiming to the woman

seasoned with white silver hair

“we’re all about young families now”

and letting her miss church

the place where

she first believed

where she prayed at the altar

and repented once for all

where she learned

how to read her Bible

and sing sweet amazing grace

where her father took her arm

as she walked on rose petals

and red carpet

Shame on you

for pushing her out the doors

to the church

where her children

learned about Jesus

drawing on bulletins

dogs and flowers in crayon

during long sermons

while she whispered amen

nodding her head

where she watched

her children sing in vests

and pretty velvet dresses

with shiny black shoes

where she saw her boys and girls

dunk down in the tank

and carefully rise with water

streaming down their rounded

faces

the place

she gave faithfully

in Sunday school

and choir

dusting pews on Saturday

with oil and a cloth

playing the piano

and leaving bills

in the offering plate

Shame on you

for forgetting

the widow

who found comfort

in the place

where her fathter was

eulogized

and her son

prayed for in war

and her daughters

blushing in white

her husband

aging with her

week by week

finally coming after

years of prayer

before going home

to be with his Lord

she spoke up

you put her out

Shame on you.

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Wrapped

Wrapped

in flesh

shrouded

perfection

fluid

blood

muscle

skin

deep inside

one of sin

growing

born

wrapped

swaddled

surrounded

smothered

by dirt

stale air

breath of sinners

growth

stature

straight

wrapped

encircled

crowds

touching

reaching

taking

leaning in

demanding

covering

wrapped

in scarlet

accused

accursed

flesh

blood

skin

broken

body

wrapped

in sin

sacrifice

darkness

disdain

death

wrapped

spiced

cloths

shrouded

face

lifeless

laid

darkness

entombed

wrapped

miraculous

glorious

eternal

divinity

power

magestic

life

salvation

perfection

 

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Unworthy
I come to Thee
a wretched case
lost in the mire
of my disgrace
for all my shame
I hide my face
I’m unworthy
unworthy
Friend of sinners
be my friend
and comfort me
I’m unworthy
unworthy
Hope of the hopeless
be my hope
and rescue me…
by Christianlady

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America
my sweet
are you so tired
in your youth
drunk with libation
brought down with
humiliation
as to where you’ve gone
your eyes have seen
what they should not
your ears have heard
far too much
your boundaries
broken through
you have touched
and breathed in
filth
sweet America
the Great and mighty
home of the brave
and the profane
you are like a rebelious child
refusing discipline
you began in duality
to conquer souls
to conquest treasures
for God and for money
nothing much has changed
since
except the standards
set forth and founded
have been legally
stretched and broken
Sweet America
you are still searching
for gold
for the fountain of youth
and still trying to worship
and live right
and dream those dreams
you wanted it all
your children
live duality
insanity of selfishness
drunk on power
seeking more
and yet
brothers and sisters
work to make you pure
to wash you
so you glisten
Will you stand
and fight
or will you bow
in your shame
to be abused
and confined
you loved Liberty
sweet America
home of the brave
or home of the cowards
where is the faith,
the faith that will save you?
by Christianlady
DML

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Shame on you

for proclaiming to the woman

seasoned with white silver hair

“we’re all about young families now”

and letting her miss church

the place where

she first believed

where she prayed at the altar

and repented once for all

where she learned

how to read her Bible

and sing sweet amazing grace

where her father took her arm

as she walked on rose petals

and red carpet

Shame on you

for pushing her out the doors

to the church

where her children

learned about Jesus

drawing on bulletins

dogs and flowers in crayon

during long sermons

while she whispered amen

nodding her head

where she watched

her children sing in vests

and pretty velvet dresses

with shiny black shoes

where she saw her boys and girls

dunk down in the tank

and carefully rise with water

streaming down their rounded

faces

the place

she gave faithfully

in Sunday school

and choir

dusting pews on Saturday

with oil and a cloth

playing the piano

and leaving bills

in the offering plate

Shame on you

for forgetting

the widow

who found comfort

in the place

where her fathter was

eulogized

and her son

prayed for in war

and her daughters

blushing in white

her husband

aging with her

week by week

finally coming after

years of prayer

before going home

to be with his Lord

she spoke up

you put her out

Shame on you.

Read Full Post »

You preach

twistify

lull

woo

in the name

of who?

You share

distort

meet

pray

bemoan

all that your

congregation

will not

do

not enough

go

not enough

do

you breath in

sit silently

breathe out

you read

read

read

all that men

can write

it seeps

I weep

for my

children

and so I say

I must leave

because

you have shifted

deeper

into

the desert

I am thirsty

and you

are offended

by my parched

tongue

giving warning

as I leave

the door

won’t hit me

my pearls

trampled

behind me.

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