The Days of June

June 6: Unperceived Other

.

Unsure existence.

Other’s soul;

Individual?

.

June 5: Un papillon

 .

Sweet powdery wings
Of light tensile blue
Swafting ‘til resting
On no one but you
/
Small tickling kisses
Of summer’s delight
Soft limbs catch air flow
Off soars he in flight
.

June 4: Fear and Trembling (Offensive Friday #1)

.
God came to Abraham.
”abraham” The Almighty said in the stillest, smallest, most doubtable voice you can imagine,
“Take your son, the one you love
To mountains far away
There you will then burn the boy
And prove that you have faith.”

So Abraham awoke!
With a start he got right up!
It was early; he was ready. 
They left before dawn broke.

The torment and turmoil; his resolute flint face.
His lips, they told this evil to no one. 
His eyes looked no one in the face.
His feet led the way.

Abraham said (to himself, so no one would hear)
“Perhaps my God will punish me for obeying this command
For though I am hastily obedient
I bring nothing but evil.
The blood of my son will cover my hands.
Who’s to say I won’t be damned?”

God took them to Moriah,
a hilltop far away.
They prepped the fire and altar;
trembling hands lifted the knife.
A son stood to be slain.

When the moment finally came, 
For Abraham’s great kill
The boy, he was rejected, 
God’s will - redirected.

What did God want as proof from this man?
Trust.
Isaac was God’s promised child. 
If killed, God would raise him from the dead.
God tested Abraham’s trust:
He was willing to do evil to obey the will of God.

Abraham should have told God “no”
He should have stood up to Him.
but Abraham said “yes.”
And it was counted to him as righteousness.

So what about those wackos
In the news and on TV
That kill their kids or followers
and all too publicly
They declare with great conviction
“I do what God tells me”?

Who’s to say they’re lying?
Who’s to say they’re wrong?
“A loving God won’t ask for blood”
But Abram thinks we’re wrong.
.

June 3: Intentional Conflict

.

It’s a character flaw
 Please trust me, I know,
Like burping or farting
At classy hotels.
/
But unlike bad habits,
This vice is a treat.
This tasteful ill art-form
Is much less discrete.
/
I bring up odd topics;
Purposely confuse.
Or try to embarrass;
Purposely intrude.
/
Whatever will get me
A rise out of you - 
I say it, I do it;
Pleasure through and through
/
Intentional conflict:
No real friends are won.
The worst of my habits,
But oh so much fun.
/
Someday soon, I’ll stop it.
For once in my life
I’ll open a new mouth
And let you inside.
.

June 2: Magister Navis

.

Sail onward

Yearn homeward

/

Dominant winds eastwardly blow;

The sean is alive.

Miniature men catch Nature’s throes;

Watery strides.

/

Sail onward

Yearn homeward

/

Home and its rest, lovely notions;

Thy peace dwells on land.

Your eyes behold the ocean;

Hope peeks ahead.

/

Sail onward

Yearn homeward

.

June 1: I’m Sorry for Them; I’m Sorry for That.

I’m Sorry for Them; I’m Sorry for That.

/

Like introducing you to my, er…, one or so relatives who talk too much and share awkward details too often.

Like my married comrades who often mistake you, my female friends, for love interests and “options.”

Like telling you I’ll pick you up, but my car is really, really messy and I have to move stuff off of the seat so that you can get in, and I blush and hope you don’t think that I’m messy (which, really, I am).

/

Just like that, I’m sorry for Christians.

/

Some of them are weird, and say they can hear God’s voice.

They stand out on street corners, and give commuters a choice:

Repent or perish. It’s always the same.

Even I find them annoying, and I’m already “saved.”

Maybe their hearts are in the right place, but who is to say?

/

Some of them own TV stations, and take old ladies’ money.

They pray for Jane Swingler in Deerfield, Missouri; 

She has a bad hip, and dyslexia too, 

and if she’ll just send a small donation, they’ll pray her up,

and she’ll be healed, because God always comes through.

/

And charismatics who are filled with zeal.

They seem convinced that the Hokey Pokey can heal.

/

But pastors are the worst of the whole Christian bunch.

On Sunday they preach love and charity and integrity and honesty

But I’ve got a hunch 

that the rest the week 

they look at porno in confession booths, 

misuse Church funds, 

flirt with their young little secretary, 

and absolutely worst of all (horrific!) 

they meticulously craft sermon-series acronyms and puns.

/

But I know that these, they are brothers of mine.

And if I reject them, there’s very little time

Before I reject God along with them, and my embarrassment becomes divine.

/

I’ve heard Jesus was kindof ugly, and born from an un-married young girl.

And he hung out with unpopular people - 

the annoying ones and dirty ones, and ones who would probably make me recoil.

God became humble; cast among swine the Great Pearl.

/

Jesus was hated, despised and oppressed,

and before the cross, he was beaten, undressed.

I get the feeling that God is not easily embarrassed.

/

The truth seems really obvious, even to me,

that these Christians who act shamefully,

they aren’t embarrassing to Jesus,

they’re just embarrassing to me.