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Keith Wallis

Poetry Challenge 2015

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Here's the challenge for 2015 then:

 

 

An 'inspirational chain' - in that the each poem should be inspired by its predecessor. A chain of thought which could be as directly or obliquely connected as you like provided you are prepared to explain the connection if challenged. It may even be a single line within the previous poem that spurs yours. So here's the first link in our chain:

 

 

rubicon

 

 

let’s cross together

 

 

the point of no return

 

 

invalid ticket at the turnstile

 

 

a tomorrow journey

 

 

in the vestiges of today

 

 

exhaled breath

 

 

and the taste

 

 

the taste of Spring

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Pontoon

 

 

Let's pontoon our giftings,

 

 

walk with ease over egos,

 

 

make a cadence of our faith

 

 

with our feet, new songs,

 

 

along with churning waters,

 

 

encourage legions

 

 

of forders to come

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What New Song shall I sing then

 

 

in this strange land

 

 

where goings on astound me

 

 

evil deeds surround me

 

 

what New Song shall I sing

 

 

I'll sing the Song of Love

 

 

sent from Heaven above

 

 

the Song the Father sings

 

 

as in my heart it rings

 

 

the melody of Love

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I can praise an ocean,

 

but--laud our Creator?

 

How significant is a splash

 

on the easel of eternity?

 

Nevertheless we sing.

 

To fathom Love, its lyrics and sway,

 

we mimic Augustine:

 

take up a smaller easel,

 

read it,*

 

and let God's world rush in

 

with all of its flourish and bloom.

 

________________

 

*re: St. Augustine's testimony of coming upon the Scriptures,

 

and, of course, the tumultuous and mundane things that subsequently

 

happened

 

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Faithful are the wounds of a friend,

 

 

of a mortal, of Jesus,

 

 

because of His.

 

 

Jacob's thigh,

 

 

in my life, lest I offend,

 

 

God's grace, our thorns,

 

 

His way in the end.

 

 

Unbelief helped by belief He Is,

 

 

that we can fall from the Fall

 

 

into His own assurance.

 

 

Flowers in the desert,

 

 

by the Well amidst sands.

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Cosmic grace exceeds

 

 

the cosmetic face

 

 

we're tempted to bring

 

 

into redemption's ways.

 

 

How could we forget

 

 

dominion has a field

 

 

beyond our reflection

 

 

--must be scraped and tilled?

 

 

Is it we fear

 

 

the sweat of the brow?

 

 

True, we still have to work,

 

 

but the wage is sweet now.

 

 

Let us call, "Fair"

 

 

the Saviour's Face

 

 

Who once had a likeness

 

 

we failed to appreciate.

 

 

Now we see the scars

 

 

of the Risen One.

 

 

He sees our own

 

 

through the Spirit's wash.

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cosmetic mask will fade

 

 

reapplied in the shade

 

 

presenting pleasant creature

 

 

but with every sculptured feature

 

 

evil lurks take care be aware

 

 

or she will trap you in her snare

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Trapped within her snare?

 

 

Let us grasp hope that God provides our way out,

 

 

Our Creator deserves our praises,

 

 

Brethren, let them shout,

 

 

Up to the heavens into God's Holy Kingdom,

 

 

Looking, watching for the return that will come,

 

 

On the day for which no one knows,

 

 

Until then I suppose that we be His voice,

 

 

Even if only one word,

 

 

Let us share the Good News to even those who haven't heard,

 

 

May we carry each others burdens,

 

 

No matter how heavy,

 

 

Not just for one, but every,

 

 

For God is patient with us all,

 

 

Desiring for all to come home,

 

 

No more need to wander where we constantly roam,

 

 

Let us fix our eyes on Christ,

 

 

Who died once for all,

 

 

Love one another,

 

 

Catch one another before we fall,

 

 

When God speaks,

 

 

No longer ignore the call,

 

 

To forgive as we have been forgiven,

 

 

Stay on the path with Christ and be Holy Spirit driven...

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Can we be His voice,

 

 

if only for one word,

 

 

what's done in Heaven

 

 

done on earth?

 

 

The Bride says, "Come!" by choice,

 

 

at every turn.

 

 

Hear the Good News noised,

 

 

"More souls for Christ's return!"

 

 

Spirit in us so yearns.

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I can't sleep at night

 

 

I toss and turn

 

 

Visions fill my head

 

 

As His Spirit yearns

 

 

To speak

 

 

To be heard

 

 

Is anyone listening?

 

 

I can't sleep at night

 

 

Perhaps, I will

 

 

When I become His voice

 

 

-ecj

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So if for only one word we can sing,

 

 

If by His voice we hear Heaven ring,

 

 

Let's shout to the world that "Jesus" is King.

 

 

There are no theories to save our souls,

 

 

And the argument of time is surely growing old.

 

 

His coming is so close, I no longer worry about the signs,

 

 

I now listen for the trumpet and the names as He calls mine.

 

 

His patience must be wearing mighty thin,

 

 

He's beginning to turn to His church with a grin.

 

 

"Get Ready!" :"Get Ready!" I hear Him say,

 

 

For you do not know the time, not the hour nor the day.

 

 

"I will come" he says "to collect my bride and I will not be late."

 

 

"As my word you shall see fulfilled,"

 

 

"There will be no more debate."

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Heaven's trumpet voices in verses that course through my soul

 

 

from backwater hymns I heard in the car,

 

 

to that one stray scripture seen a billboard,

 

 

a servant brother's broad smile over a winsome guffaw.

 

 

When I lay me down, I start to toss,

 

 

the one place where mindworks do not suffer loss.

 

 

How can I drift off on some silent, smooth lake

 

 

when our life together keeps me awake?

 

 

Gather in me, oh Spirit the things that You must.

 

 

Deep sleep may come in the midst of this trust.

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Hi Ragamuser,

 

 

Sorry to disrupt the flow of the challenge, but I had to comment that this piece really touched my heart and soul. Simply clicking on like was not enough.

 

 

A poet, I am not. So please continue and ignore my interruption.

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When night visions fill my head,

 

 

pack to rafters what You've said,

 

 

I throw barn doors open, let escape

 

 

tithes of worship, offerings of praise.

 

 

No stowing for prosperity,

 

 

lest heart be lean, compassion cheap.

 

 

Soul, lose weight here as you sleep,

 

 

lipping lyrics that need no sheet.

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What is this prosperity that we seek,

 

 

Our souls long for, yet makes us weak?

 

 

We're blind to the truth as we move through each day,

 

 

Forgetting our purpose along the way.

 

 

Sweep my heart Lord and make it clean,

 

 

As strength I do need, your strength unseen.

 

 

By your breath only do I live,

 

 

Everything material may I be willing to give.

 

 

Rest our spirits these weary nights,

 

 

Let all our possessions bring glory to the Light.

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I am a have and a lot I have got,

 

 

Not as much as many but more than not,

 

 

Riches may come. They will go.

 

 

Does the weight of my estate trouble,

 

 

Bow me low?

 

 

If I gave it all away

 

 

Then to The Father began to pray

 

 

Would He find my prayers more sweet

 

 

Because I begged upon the street?

 

 

What I have is mine until its gone.

 

 

Given, taken, found, lost.

 

 

Sold for a song, what did it cost?

 

 

As much as God gives, be it silver or time,

 

 

Is what I have, is what is mine.

 

 

His allow is what I have

 

 

And what I have is here and now.

 

 

><>

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His allow is what I have,

 

 

gladly possessed, never counterfeit.

 

 

Be it rest, bread, a friend--there is no stone,

 

 

the will of Abba brings manna to soul.

 

 

Craft us a castle or a seaside hut,

 

 

given plenty, barely, or quite enough,

 

 

the measure of mercy is not weighed by man,

 

 

the depth of God's care shows in our thankfulness.

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Turn this stone to bread, my fiendish friend?

 

 

Better fling it hard at fiendish forehead, Goliath's life to end.

 

 

Take stones to build a tower up to heaven's throne?

 

 

Better a simple altar from which sweet aroma makes our worship known.

 

 

Build up the walls of Zion that cruel kings throw down.

 

 

Let living stones assemble the world's princes to astound.

 

 

Death's prison door is rolled aside, the stone is rolled away.

 

 

Christ our Rock walked from the tomb, living bread for all who pray.

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Lots of laughs, luciferian imp,

 

 

my flesh won't yield, IMHO,

 

 

because greater is the Bread of Life

 

 

Whose fullness the tempted cannot despise.

 

 

BTW, your crumbs are stale,

 

 

centuries old, from Cain's own shelf.

 

 

The bait you give lacks sacrifice,

 

 

Christ is in our offered lives.

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Back and forth

 

 

Within the veil

 

 

They taunt and curse

 

 

And rip me

 

 

I'm dead

 

 

A new voice

 

 

Heard above all

 

 

It calls my name

 

 

And I rise

 

 

My God

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The unseen is my screen;

 

 

I turn to my tribe.

 

 

It dances in ritual masks;

 

 

I watch re-runs day and night.

 

 

Why can't I know?

 

 

Why can't we know?

 

 

This is as exhausting as a buffalo hunt!

 

 

Could I be the hunted,

 

 

by some good, by bad?

 

 

Hunted, haunted?

 

 

Hunt, haunt?

 

 

I can ask all day,

 

 

But do I fear the answer?

 

 

How shall I reverence it?

 

 

I am surrounded by legacy,

 

 

yet this gnawing tells me

 

 

I must be conquered.

 

 

Come Prophet,

 

 

let us parlay!*

 

 

----------------------

 

 

* Isiaiah 1:18 - Come now, let reason together, says the Lord

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Cave wall images wail

 

 

till I ask, "Whose sun?",

 

 

"Whose moon?",

 

 

"By Whose hand

 

 

this flint, this rock

 

 

from which fiery question marks

 

 

dance like stray chalk on walls?

 

 

The more I dare think

 

 

come hope's flamed exclamations!

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Hey you guys come out of that cave and listen to this song. It was triggered by Russell's "new voice from above" line on the 15th. I've got a sort of tune to it, à la Bob Dylan, but I don't do music. :)

 

 

A New Voice

 

 

I've seen so many a setting sun.

 

 

The roads are twisted, the journey's long.

 

 

I've spoken lies, selfish blues I've sung.

 

 

Oh give me a new voice, give me a new song.

 

 

Give me a new voice, give me a new song.

 

 

Words to lift up the weary ones,

 

 

To fly like eagles in the sun,

 

 

To take us to where we belong.

 

 

The young folk laugh, the children play

 

 

A dark prince over earth holds sway.

 

 

Though long the night we still rejoice.

 

 

Oh give me a new song, give me a new voice.

 

 

Waking in the sun's warming rays

 

 

From dreams of God and golden days,

 

 

I want to walk the narrow way,

 

 

Let there be truth in all I say.

 

 

Oh give me a new voice, give me a new song

 

 

To fly like an eagle in the sun, to take me where I belong.

 

 

Give me a new voice, give me a new song.

 

 

><>

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