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Masters of holding on May 28, 2007

Posted by vsap in Poetry, Uncategorized.

We are masters of holding on

And we clutter our lives

There is no room for a white wall

Or a landscape without a home

A road or animal on the canvas

I don’t bother to judge those

Who must see something they created

Above that which God had formed

Their buildings will collapse

As surely as the ground God created will remain


Holy Week is not shrouded in mystery

Christ Himself laid it plainly

The truth is we don’t trust

We let the media hold us hostage

To their beliefs, their programming

Heralding the saints is passe

There are no heroes or hallowed grounds

We label our performers as “great”

And the 20th century suffered for it

Today, who does not believe their own press?


It’s a restless mission field

Weary, unkind, broken but unploughed

Everything has a logo

Everything must represent

Everything must be as close to the edge

As possible or it isn’t recognized

It’s a symptom of the disease of anger

It’s a symptom of the disease of want

It’s a symptom of depravity

And we all suffer and we know it


So, if our rush isn’t to judge

To what do we attribute the hurry?

You like to believe you are in control

And you won’t face the fact that you are not

It’s the fourth dimension

It’s the fourth estate

It’s a bogie then a double bogie

It’s analogy run amok

But the greatest myth is left unanswered

And we fall asleep thinking we are safe


People love to poke fun at faith

Proving they have none at all

People love to sing praises to their actors

Their playwrights, their athletes

They will nod and wink at their friends about God

They won’t stand in His way if He is good

And in the eyes of the world He is only good

When he punishes people it hates and glorifies people

It loves and sets the rest of us aside

And sets the rest of us aside


God doesn’t need our charity

He requires our submission

But like the Egyptian pharaoh we are stiff-necked

We won’t be told, we won’t bow down

In the face of great calamity, we won’t submit

Because we think we can handle it ourselves

This is a grievous overstatement of our ability

Of our character, of our state of gracelessness

April 11, 2006



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