PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … June 20th, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3709)

Fly Girl

I want to apologize to you

For feeling so sorry for me

It’s just that everything is new

Not used to being free

 

Do I enjoy feeling pain

So I can nurse the sore?

Flirting with a hurtful insane

Sitting in the dark on the floor

 

Do I understand I was wrong

Remember the twist in my mind?

I finally feel like I belong

With a heart, generous and kind

 

My hands are strong

My mind is clear

It took so long

To calm my fear

 

Yet I yearn for grace once again

Embarrassed to feel so weak

At the mercy of my lingering sin

Still inheriting with the meek

 

As a girl I dreamed of flying

Across the sky, crystal blue

Lying, sighing, trying and crying

A seeker without a clue

 

Lord, give me wings like a bird

So I can finally see

The beauty of your heart and word

And all your love for me

 

Fly… fly… fly

Try… try… try

Fly girl.

Our guest reader is Angy, entrepreneur, wife, mother of two daughters, from Fort Lauderdale, Florida

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … June 13th, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3702)

To Truly Be

Three boys sit at my table

Too young to consider much

The world swirls around them

They need to develop some trust

What shall I suggest to them?

What truths are unscathed from the warfare of compromise?

Shall I tell them not to lie when lying is a national pastime?

Will they believe that being kind is possible for our race?

Or will they watch the atrocities committed in the name of God and country?

Will they honor women as equals and make amends

Or leer and jeer at the lasses, declaring them stupid with their careless friends?

Is the Golden Rule for saints

As gold, ruling the world, is touted as worth?

Can I teach them not to cheat when it seems that cheaters prosper?

Can I speak to them of God when others deny He lives?

Can they learn the power of humility and all the true grace it gives?

Do I have the courage to differ from the passive horde of sheep?

Or is my soul slowly dying and my conscience falling asleep?

I pass the food around the table ​and look at the young men before me

It’s time to shine

It’s a season of reason

Dear God, grant to me

The willingness to truly be

Our reader today is Jasson. He lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with three sons and his wife, Deahna

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … June 6th, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3695)

Please Explain

My friend Brillo has a pad

Crazy Larry is really quite mad

Dirty Harry is never clean

Porno Pete, quite obscene

 

Sistah Golda’s the Queen of Funk

Stinky Stephen sniffs of skunk

Reverend Frowner knows the Word

Charlie the Clown is truly absurd

 

Private Gump had Lieutenant Dan

The Potts family owns a special pan

The Bumblebee really rarely does

And Fuzzy Wuzzy has no fuzz

 

Little Boy Blue looks better in red

Are they thankful–the Grateful Dead?

We’re looking for a star without the wars

Windows of opportunity, or are there just doors?

 

It’s never funny to be sent to the farm

And a safety pin can do some harm

You may never find a hat on a cat

And a skinny farm is for those who are fat

 

Words, wishes on the wall

Graffiti or art–it’s your call

I’m not confused, don’t worry about me

Just please explain Chicken of the Sea

 

Today’s PoHymn is read by Lily, thirteen years old, from Broward County, Florida

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … May 30th, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3688)

Some Folks

 

Some folks want to fight

To guard what they deem right

Protecting their little ones

With planes, bombs and guns.

 

Some folks are in fear

That doom is always near

Never certain you’re on their side

They huddle away and hide.

 

Some folks love to hate

To control a brother’s fate

Finding something inferior

To make themselves superior

 

Some folks choose to believe

In a God who will receive

Quietly they sing the song

Just grateful to belong.

 

Some folk are not folk

Convinced it’s all a joke

Ungrateful for their birth

They curse Mother Earth.

 

Yet all folks, can’t you see

Are really just you and me?

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … May 23rd, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3668)

Listen to the Poet

For Awhile

I came to stay awhile

Taking my turn at the trial

Giggling at the silly dog

Admiring the antics of the leaping frog

Considering the second mile.

 

Birth–beyond my control

Gradually took its toll

Making me question my reason

Always striving to be pleasin’

Without losing my soul.

 

The minutes jump the hour

And soon become a day

The days abandon the week

A month just slips away

The years are far too meek

The last breath slowly released

 

So grab on tightly with all your might

Train your thoughts for the good fight

“There is no God,” taunts the fool

Yet Father walks in the twilight cool

Still lingering in the Eden Garden.

 

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … May 16th, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3668)

Listen to the Poet

The Holy Place

Holy, holy, holy land

Here we choose to make a stand

Holy, holy, holy shit

Desert death is what we get.

 

Ancient past, broken stone

Orphaned children left alone

Bearded men with angry eyes

Generations of patriarch lies

 

Striving for a painful conclusion

Soaked with blood, riddled with delusion

Abraham’s kids negotiate the will

Who will survive? Who must we kill?

 

For Solomon in all his glory

With Sheba could not change the story

Is the battle that we yearn to win

Still about a man’s foreskin?

 

Can we allow faith to enlighten

Or must the scrolls only frighten?

In separating the good from the good

Then the bad survives, as it should

 

As the Nazarene did die

He spoke plainly, addressed the lie

“Your house is left desolate”

Your foolish dreams…crushed.

 

For the holy place is anywhere

Where children are spared a nightly scare

And men and women unite in the Son

To boldly live together as one.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … May 9th, 2018


 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3667)

Listen to the Poet

What Matters

It is important, I am told

Speak clearly, stand, be bold

No time for me to waver a bit

Be strong, firm, support the shit

Find my place in the fold

 

For only traitors ever question

And the silly fools try to mention

The unanswered riddle

Or the power of the middle

Silently endorse the conclusion

 

If blood is red

And God is dead

Women must be weak

Destroy the lowly meek

And honor the common thread

 

So don’t raise your hand to the sky

To inquire who, what, when and why

Lubricate the system’s joints

By memorizing all the talking points

Muffle your inner cry

 

Silence! master of the blabber

I am sick in soul over all your jabber

I need to hear beyond my fear

And dare to peer through my single tear

And discover for myself … what matters

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