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I’d do for you again with no regrets October 28, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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Your faith was a stalking horse when you were nineteen,

and God changed everything as you spoke in tongues.

No one understood you, they were caught up in the scene,

slain in the spirit you inhaled the burning in your lungs.

Your faith was a ponderous burden as you turned twenty-six,

the rock star of Pentecost was beginning to show his humanity.

You took to bullying your adversaries and promiscuous sex,

Too big to fail you cast aside God for king of your insanity.

Your faith was buried on the high plains as you passed forty-one,

there wasn’t a scripture verse you could accurately recall;

You were married fifteen years in a relationship with room for one

and your narrative was an evolving cliché, into nothing at all.

Your faith was renewed in your grandson’s eyes at age of sixty-four,

and there wasn’t a shred of doubt as you revisited your church home.

The metaphorical Phoenix rising from the vinyl of the basement floor,

and you were grateful to God that you weren’t going to die alone.

Your faith hit its stride on the eve of your seventy-first birthday.

There is no past with God, you learned over the years, He forgets.

The scars and suffering brought you to the joy you have today.

Hours, weeks and years of prayer I’d do for you again with no regrets.

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No watermark of reason October 27, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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Grooming myself for the worst I still have no conception of it.

After all, we all conceive a definition for worst-case scenarios.

Some conjure bits of movies or novels to build a model that fits,

and many won’t entertain the thought like gluten-free Cheerios.

Some things are beyond our grasp and have no watermark of reason,

others hang by the Spanish Moss waiting for their season.

I am forced to ask questions when I would much prefer denial.

Push on, is my justification, no use for looking back or standing still.

I refuse to feel trapped but I feel I’m bent scrap on a junk pile.

Will I be inspired, frozen or reluctantly place myself in God’s holy will?

Some things are beyond our grasp and have no watermark of reason,

Others hang by the Spanish Moss waiting for their season.

My mother taught me about faith, simple and clear, sans religion,

and I listened, believed, waited, and received inexplicable miracles.

Then I wandered aimlessly, carelessly like a common pigeon

until I was drawn back to God, not some earthbound oracle.

Some things are beyond our grasp and have no watermark of reason,

others hang by the Spanish Moss waiting for their season.

I could contemplate life and death and the new Jerusalem,

but I can be forgiven for seeking yet another miracle, another sign.

One that heals and covers scars of pack-a-day menthol Salems

and puts me back into life, spared from the clutches of dying.

Some things are beyond our grasp and have no watermark of reason,

others hang by the Spanish Moss waiting for their season.

There is no frame of reference for first-times October 11, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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There is no frame of reference for first-times.

Read what you will and listen to your friends.

But the good news is you don’t know

and the bad news is you don’t know.

The truth lies in the lack of knowing.

The beauty of ignorance in time of need.

Blazing your own trail, you will discover

soon enough, many have traveled before you.

But you simply didn’t know them

and how could you? Paths don’t cross,

even the internet is finite and often wrong.

I was gazing out the window of a coffee shop

wondering how my hometown would do without me.

Surgery, recovery, happening every day,

and the city will be there, prospering, without me.

Will I accept it? Can I? Do I have a choice?

Yes. Yes. And no – there’s no magic in truth,

your new is someone else’s everyday experience.

Your unforeseen is already understood by many

But will someone walk you through it

which will allow you to explain it to the next one?

There’s actually no time to consider alternatives

you just marshal through one hand tied behind

and the other reaching for a Holy God.

No quarter for your treason October 7, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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I can explain what I was trying to do

but it doesn’t matter anyway.

You can tell me I have no clue —

it’s not how I want to start my day.

When I have a “moment” I lose my will

and you can take advantage of my distraction.

You can twist me like a yard of twill —

the material is addition by subtraction.

You doctor your coffee with Bailey’s and cream.

I’m strictly black with a glazed donut guy.

But you like to forgive yourself for your dreams

then crush others and watch them die.

I didn’t mean to spoil your breakfast

but this third rail of our relationship is sparking.

And you have left me sufficiently breathless

like buses on a narrow street double parking.

Call me in the middle of the night like you used to

and I’ll send you flowers for no reason.

I’ll ask how we went from red hot to cold blue

But give you no quarter for your treason.

Bring a platter of the lunch meat of your love

and I’ll bring the bread and wine.

I’ll take you to the ledge and give you a shove —

you can push me to the back of the line.

Isn’t life deliciously ironic, I heard you ask,

and it’s more true than I’d like to believe.

I’m no longer here to drink from your flask,

I’m no longer here to relieve your grief.

You can thank me on the luck of the draw

because gambling was never your strong suit.

I can thank you for finding my every flaw —

I can thank you for ending my hot pursuit.