PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … October 19th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3099)

 Not Always Like This

Concerning this morning’s mode

I seem burdened, overload

Hampered by nagging retreat

Fostered through vague deceit

I pity again my worried self

Placing others on the shelf

Determined that I must be seen

Bubbling a heart of treacherous mean

I probe to find the callous slight

Denying the evidence of what is right

I am the critic for the meek

Sneering, I mock the lovely weak

Exposing their obvious lack

Hoisting burdens on their back

Enemy, I emerge of that deemed decent

Ruddy with anger over offenses most recent

Finding the Christ I deny

Shaking my head, I decline to try

To simply deal with my lot

The portion provided, what I’ve got

Frowning at the human race

Unmercifully mocking the joyous face

For goodness seems too good to me

Foolishness and fear are what I see

In this cauldron I melt into a creep

Unworthy to mingle with the holy sheep

Beware, my friend, something is amiss

Please understand, I’m not always like this.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … August 24th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3043)

The Dignity of Every Mortal

I always flip so I won’t flop

I continue the drip until my last drop

I dream ’til I smile to forget for a while

That I am a jerk, churning out work

 

I seek for a sign to challenge the Divine

Wondering why, yet failing to try

I simply maintain and choose to refrain

Life is the same–I’m not to blame.

 

I yearn for a kiss–and then I miss

The lips of my steady, I’m never quite ready

To pucker and peck–oh, what the heck

It drives me insane, so then I complain.

 

I refuse to address my unholy mess

But grumble at others, pronouncing my druthers

Looking for an excuse to justify my misuse

Master of my fate, unless it’s second-rate

 

So often caught and trapped in my thought

Perceiving myself wise, snagged by my lies

Yet humble becomes the heavenly portal

To save the dignity of every mortal.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … August 10th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3029)

Seated

I hope I did not scare

You with my wheelchair

It’s just my legs are sore

From all the weight I bore

Crossing this American scene

Since I was just nineteen

First appeared my song

Then the books came along

I saw my movies on the screen

A symphony born, sweet, serene

I raised a house full of boys

Suffered the trials, blessed by joys

A feeling–a calling within my soul

A deeper wish to make me whole

Yes, my heart is full of humble praise

My soul is young and quite ablaze

My mind reaches–ideas to seize

But I’m a bit weak at the knees

You might think I should rest a spell

A doctor’s care might do me well

But the fields are ripe and ready, you see

For laborers to come–is that not me?

Then please forgive my weakened frame

And not consider me a shame

I will tell you of good common sense

And soothe the terror that makes us tense

And find our hope in one another

You’re my sister, you’re my brother

So don’t you worry–all is well

Let’s join together … and change this hell.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … August 3rd, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3022)

They All Line Up

Say something nice

Was her kind advice

For she likes things sweet

Orderly, proper and neat

This will better suffice

 

Spit dialogue mean

Gross, malicious, obscene

Is what he asked of me

Demanded, can’t you see?

Avoid the common clean

 

Pray for the sick

Just anyone you pick

Pronounced the holy preacher

For every living creature

Adding mortar to crumbling brick

 

Invest your money well

Promoting what will sell

Proclaimed Banker Thomas

Guaranteeing his latest promise

And adding a “do” for his tell

 

They all line up, sure they know

How I should run my daily show

Thou shalt this and thou shalt not

Plant your seed or cast your lot

Easy, breezy, let it blow

 

But I, for one, don’t buy it

But sit very still and quiet

And listen to my soul

As my half becomes a whole

And then by faith… I try it

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … July 27th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3015)

crying

I am a voice crying in the wilderness

My throat is parched from screaming the need

Excuse me, sir, can you take a moment’s thought

To wonder why the Earth won’t move?

 

Flowers in the spring dare to bloom in front of us

Deserts of dreams simply blow away

A smile on the street seems to be suspicious

Churches that pray never seize the day

 

Come with me

(we’re too busy)

I have life

(so do we)

Where’s your joy?

(nothing’s funny)

Deal with me

(we have bigger barns to build)

 

I am the voice pleading in the land of less

We pan for gold in fields of debris

We seek for truth and draw swords of selfishness

We bless a lie and curse the truth

 

Come, won’t you join me in Jordan’s waters?

Cleansing the soul which has lost its feel

Tumbling the dice as you kneel before us

Casting your lot through the holy meal

 

Festering frightened

Ever enlightened

Joyfully jumbled

Wistfully humbled

 

I’m the voice

(crying)

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … July 6th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2994)

Alphabetcha

A

B  ountiful

C  onsideration

D  elivers

E  xcellent

F  aith.

G  iving

H  ope

I  ndividually;

J  oy,

K  indness,

L  oving,

M  eaningful,

N  eedful,

O  verall

P  eace!

Q  uietly

R  eaching

S  uccess?

T  eaching

U  s

V  ictory

W  ithout

X  xxing

Y  earning

Z  eal.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … June 22nd, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2980)

To He Who Robbed Our Pulse

(Dedicated to the Souls in Orlando)

How easy it is to kill

To end the dreams of Jack and Jill

Who went to fetch some fun

‘Til confronted by your gun

Removing all their will

 

You claim faith in God

But then prove you’re a fraud

By destroying His greatest desire

You make the message a liar

Placing the young in a tomb.

 

Did anyone see your hate?

Could they stop the fate?

That crushed the hopes of so many

And produced the graves aplenty

Making the children helpless

 

It is time for a simple path

To expunge the bloody math

And let us look for a friend

Instead of promoting the end

Of God’s great human embrace

 

So as we contemplate the morrow

Let us rise from festering sorrow

And push to find something brighter

Lifting burdens, making things lighter

Listening instead of yelling

Laughing instead of cursing

And talking instead of shooting.

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---

Jonathan’s Latest Book Release!

PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant

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