Issue II: Labyrinthine Poetry and Prose
Hermit by Jagari Mukherjee
Febuary 15, 2018
Febuary 15, 2018
I have a fruitless womb and no tree.
And so, my Lord, I spent years in agony
Over the missing pieces in my life
And raved and ranted over my loss.
I was mourning, grieving in the dark;
My inner cosmos, a cauldron of turmoil.
So, to you I turn and pray
To let my grief cleanse me,
And, with the glow of your love divine,
Illuminate my whole being.
For you, I shall a hermit be,
Your love shall be my gift
And I will wander the world with my prayers,
Beloved by you and free.
And so, my Lord, I spent years in agony
Over the missing pieces in my life
And raved and ranted over my loss.
I was mourning, grieving in the dark;
My inner cosmos, a cauldron of turmoil.
So, to you I turn and pray
To let my grief cleanse me,
And, with the glow of your love divine,
Illuminate my whole being.
For you, I shall a hermit be,
Your love shall be my gift
And I will wander the world with my prayers,
Beloved by you and free.
Pilgrim's Premise by M. Lee Alexander
January 23, 2018
January 23, 2018
(Upon Visiting the Home of C. S. Lewis)
It's not that he loved our Lord more than we,
for we too live to magnify His name,
but that he did it so abundantly, and with such joy
and yes, precision, that it sometimes puts
our fumbling hearts and faltering words to shame-
and if you ask us, that is why we came.
It's not that he loved our Lord more than we,
for we too live to magnify His name,
but that he did it so abundantly, and with such joy
and yes, precision, that it sometimes puts
our fumbling hearts and faltering words to shame-
and if you ask us, that is why we came.
Twice Blessed by M. Lee Alexander
January 23, 2018
January 23, 2018
Because I know I love the Living God
(forget not all His promises, my soul)
I claim the ground on which my feet have trod
and to my sinful lips invite the coal
that burns with righteousness; that friends might know
His voice through mine, and find the glorious Peace
His ransom brings, and shelter from the foe
of Man, and from the bonds of sin, release.
And when wild waves surround on every side
and skies turn dark, and longtime friendships fail
and sins entice, entreating like the tide,
and dangers loom that make our faint hearts quail,
I dare to call the Name that stills the sea--
Because I know the Living God loves me.
(forget not all His promises, my soul)
I claim the ground on which my feet have trod
and to my sinful lips invite the coal
that burns with righteousness; that friends might know
His voice through mine, and find the glorious Peace
His ransom brings, and shelter from the foe
of Man, and from the bonds of sin, release.
And when wild waves surround on every side
and skies turn dark, and longtime friendships fail
and sins entice, entreating like the tide,
and dangers loom that make our faint hearts quail,
I dare to call the Name that stills the sea--
Because I know the Living God loves me.
Jigsaw by Christine Tabaka
January 18, 2018
January 18, 2018
Life …
It is a puzzle
That we try to put together
Endlessly
We search through the pile
Of various shapes and colors.
The events and circumstances of our lives,
Trying to find the pieces that fit
Gingerly connecting them together
One by one,
Trying over and over again
To make all the small fragments
Interlock into a whole.
At times we try to force the bits
Of our life into place,
That never works out well
And we must try again
Often we get to the end
And the box is empty
Yet, we are still missing that one piece
But eventually,
There before us is a beautiful picture
That is us.
Agonistes by Jim Lewis
January 17, 2018
January 17, 2018
My young and shallow view of Sampson grew
from ignorant eyes that judged, without compassion,
the folly of his strength and of his lust
brought down to darkness, lying in the dust.
There I, with Philistines, heaped my derision,
assured his fate was well-deserved, and true.
But with the eyes of age I can perceive
the story of his power gone to naught
is mine, and like a towering redwood felled,
"now blind, disheart'n'd, sham'd, dishonor'd, quell'd".
Despite the suffering pride and sin have brought,
I wait to be of use, and still believe.
Alive by Sravani Singampalli
January 12, 2018
January 12, 2018
Silhouette against rainbow life,
A widow.
Why can’t she start a new life?
They feel the wilted roses
Are of no use
But they still give off
A strong and sweet fragrance,
A fragrance which says
I am still alive!
A widow.
Why can’t she start a new life?
They feel the wilted roses
Are of no use
But they still give off
A strong and sweet fragrance,
A fragrance which says
I am still alive!
Are You Hungry? By Hamdi Meca
December 5, 2017
December 5, 2017
On the soul that never dies, you rest, rest,
the soul is every man’s gravity point,
the allegoric lever that Archimedes mentions,
the human body is.
Tear off the body’s internal cloth, tear it off,
don’t feel sorry for it, stretch your arms in the cosmos, stretch them,
don’t you fear the curly ball which is larger than the Earth,
remember the wooden spoon that stirs the ashure on the stove,
if not the spoons, then the wool forks and thinking minds,
one of them spins threads, the other ideas spreads.
Stretch your arms, stretch them and hold on,
in the geysers high walls of the galactic hold on,
the childhood when you used to crawl in stone fences remember,
myself, I’m recalling Michelangelo Buonaroti,
with his panel in his hand, like an art eremite
in the Sistine Chapel in Vatican he is,
I’m thinking of the genius and the tear-the exhausted
and much suffering hunchback.
So, people,
suddenly fountains of ice dust in the cosmos appear,
grab them with your hands, the more particles you will catch, you catch,
the same as my little nephew, Erl
(I have given him the three letter name)
does in the fountain in the center of Tirana.
Extend your fingers, extend the willow leaves
made up of human flesh cells in those curves and motives,
be careful, glass broken in the cosmos, goblets everywhere,
there are also people-guns, who launch shells from their mouth,
if, the woman of his life, with lab sperm, is conceived
because a big fraud the demagogue and populist proverb is:
“It’s better to live one day free than 100 years as slaves”.
More attentive than Ulysses on his return to Ithaca be,
as I told you,
rest on the soul that never dies,
it’s one of those forms in the corners of the globe,
grab it and hold on to it, but think of the baby before,
how he sucks on his mother’s nipple,
put the globe in the palm of your hand,
as this lit candle of God may fall off.
The palm of the hand is like a plate,
the globe is like a soft-boiled egg in the middle of the plate,
bewitched by it for no reason at all, someone may think:
what the solar system and a planet rotation is.
Put the globe inside the torn cloth,
whoever has his conscience hurt,
then let him tear the cloth of his skin,
put the globe inside the torn cloth, it will fit,
cover the strip of the torn cloth,
hold it tight,
but don’t use your teeth,
today’s teeth and rocks are easily pulled,
their roots are eaten away by the worms.
Do you have longing?
Cherish the women’s hair being combed at home.
As I told you,
hold the globe in the torn cloth very tight,
hold it tight, the round things and women are hard
to sit tight.
After this, the knot-globe
in the stomach you put it, put it,
there, the image of the dove’s yearly nestle-age,
the image of the gazelle’s valley-illusion,
of the bewilderment of the grasshopper-lust.
Tie the globe around your body,
tie it,
you are no longer hungry, people,
because the globe-100%,
100% kindness, 100% marvel
and in metamorphosis.
A Proper Life by Linda Imbler
November 22, 2017
November 22, 2017
If I live my life as I should,
when I get to the end of that road,
to the final steps of that long path,
and I can go no further
because there is only still stone before me,
I will put my back against that rock
and wait for Peter’s footsteps.
I’ll sit and look at what I’ve left behind
and I shall not weep.
when I get to the end of that road,
to the final steps of that long path,
and I can go no further
because there is only still stone before me,
I will put my back against that rock
and wait for Peter’s footsteps.
I’ll sit and look at what I’ve left behind
and I shall not weep.
Nahal Prat by Sofia Kioroglou
November 20, 2017
November 20, 2017
In a deep and narrow gorge
the wadi winds its tortuous course
in a cliff face pocked with caves
monks ensconced in steep enclaves.
Elijah was fed by ravens
praised the Lord, beheld the heavens
Down a steep and winding path
What good is being a polymath?
Nahal Prat a holy place
I feel God's serene embrace
past are now my life's transgressions
I embrace my sins as lessons.
the wadi winds its tortuous course
in a cliff face pocked with caves
monks ensconced in steep enclaves.
Elijah was fed by ravens
praised the Lord, beheld the heavens
Down a steep and winding path
What good is being a polymath?
Nahal Prat a holy place
I feel God's serene embrace
past are now my life's transgressions
I embrace my sins as lessons.
The Fig Tree Will Bear Fruit by Sofia Kioroglou
November 20, 2017
November 20, 2017
Going around in circles
My compass is broken
Disoriented, I search for the Light
My egocentrism, a crippling neurosis
Cut off from the Life
My visceral putrefaction
A vicious cycle of sinuous entanglement
Of subjective schemas and delusions
Like the tax collectors and the prostitutes
I beseech you not to dash me to pieces like pottery
My repentance, a humble acceptance of Your Glory
In shemayim, the sinners can enter through Your son's atoning death.
My compass is broken
Disoriented, I search for the Light
My egocentrism, a crippling neurosis
Cut off from the Life
My visceral putrefaction
A vicious cycle of sinuous entanglement
Of subjective schemas and delusions
Like the tax collectors and the prostitutes
I beseech you not to dash me to pieces like pottery
My repentance, a humble acceptance of Your Glory
In shemayim, the sinners can enter through Your son's atoning death.
Brokenness by Christine Tabaka
November 17, 2017
November 17, 2017
There is no black and white
anymore. Everything is gray
as I wade through Indecision.
I do not remember how to pray.
My knees now fail to bend.
Desperate hands forget how to fold.
The words no longer form in
my effete heart, nor do they
pour forth from my mute mouth.
Emptiness reaching out, searching
beyond a sacred scripture, for a
faith larger than taught words.
Malignant desires, like invasive
vines, overtopping the forest.
Choking out all natural beauty.
Frenetic lives cluttered with
belongings, void of any true value.
Broken beings in need of healing.
An urge to be filled. A question
to be answered. A new spiritual
awakening rising from within.
Broken no more.
anymore. Everything is gray
as I wade through Indecision.
I do not remember how to pray.
My knees now fail to bend.
Desperate hands forget how to fold.
The words no longer form in
my effete heart, nor do they
pour forth from my mute mouth.
Emptiness reaching out, searching
beyond a sacred scripture, for a
faith larger than taught words.
Malignant desires, like invasive
vines, overtopping the forest.
Choking out all natural beauty.
Frenetic lives cluttered with
belongings, void of any true value.
Broken beings in need of healing.
An urge to be filled. A question
to be answered. A new spiritual
awakening rising from within.
Broken no more.
Comfort to All by John B. Silva
Nomember 15, 2017
Nomember 15, 2017
To be human is a frightening concept;
The flesh and bones, perishable yet alive.
So alive as if this world will never end.
To believe in the death of ego, consciousness and the loving memories of all- unfathomable yet so true.
To live, grow, build, remember and rejoice is believing in good in a world of evil.
To believe that Jesus- the son of God has a special, joyous and holy place for our souls is to believe that this pain and sadness will not last forever.
To believe- to believe is a beautiful concept.
At pride’s height and despair’s dungeon, to believe that things will change is believing in our God.
Let us believe and rejoice in the comfort of everlasting love, peace and happiness with the one true creator of our world.
The flesh and bones, perishable yet alive.
So alive as if this world will never end.
To believe in the death of ego, consciousness and the loving memories of all- unfathomable yet so true.
To live, grow, build, remember and rejoice is believing in good in a world of evil.
To believe that Jesus- the son of God has a special, joyous and holy place for our souls is to believe that this pain and sadness will not last forever.
To believe- to believe is a beautiful concept.
At pride’s height and despair’s dungeon, to believe that things will change is believing in our God.
Let us believe and rejoice in the comfort of everlasting love, peace and happiness with the one true creator of our world.
Learning to Walk on my Own by Sachi Rodriguez
November 2, 2017
November 2, 2017
I can see the walkway near,
Against my toes; the edge of tomorrow-
Bringing me fear of the sorrows ahead;
And pity me not for I see what I have and so,
I have what I need; the hand of Jesus in mine,
The softness of pillows with every step forward
And the cradle of life with every breath I take.
I am learning to walk on my own, a great act of
Courage.
So with eyes like stars and the grace of God- I am not the one I thought I was, no.
I am seeing myself for the very first time again.
Against my toes; the edge of tomorrow-
Bringing me fear of the sorrows ahead;
And pity me not for I see what I have and so,
I have what I need; the hand of Jesus in mine,
The softness of pillows with every step forward
And the cradle of life with every breath I take.
I am learning to walk on my own, a great act of
Courage.
So with eyes like stars and the grace of God- I am not the one I thought I was, no.
I am seeing myself for the very first time again.
A Bittersweet Moment by Lavender Finns
September 5, 2017
September 5, 2017
A poor humble woman stood watchful
In the dark side of town in the storm,
So with trembling hands and a dress coat,
She gave a deep sigh and succumbed
To the cold night in Glace Bay, her hometown,
Where she once knew that Jesus was there.
But as soon as she left for the summer, her mind
Could not pick up the thought,
That God is the one true belonger; reaper the man in the clouds.
And in every mill tower in Glaceland; her eyes will
Belong to the snow.
In the dark side of town in the storm,
So with trembling hands and a dress coat,
She gave a deep sigh and succumbed
To the cold night in Glace Bay, her hometown,
Where she once knew that Jesus was there.
But as soon as she left for the summer, her mind
Could not pick up the thought,
That God is the one true belonger; reaper the man in the clouds.
And in every mill tower in Glaceland; her eyes will
Belong to the snow.
The Lawyer and the Lingerer by Preston Hammelson
August 1, 2017
August 1, 2017
The Lawyer walked along the roadside, surveying the lonely, broken men in wheelchairs and benches.
The night was warm and their bodies were tired, but he thought to himself, “It is better them than me!”
As he continued walking, he saw a lingerer with his hands in his pockets and his head to the sky.
“Get out of my way, bum!” he said to the lingerer.
Saddened by the tenth mean comment from someone, the lingerer hung his head to the ground and said, “I was only just standing here watching the city.”
“Why? So you can steal something?” asked the lawyer.
“No, because it's peaceful at night. During the day, it's hard to like living in this city. All I see is people arguing, fighting and stealing.”
“If you have such a good head on your shoulder, why are you homeless?” asked the lawyer.
“Both of my parents passed away and I don't have any friends to live with. Every day, I wake up and put applications and then spend my day at the library reading the Bible and using the computer.”
The lawyer was confused about the lingerer’s ways of living and felt guilty for confusing him with the deadbeats who steal, kill, cause trouble and fight.
“Do you read the Bible?” asked the lingerer.
“No, I don't have time for that! I have people to meet and partying to do.”
The lingerer’s eyes became sad. He then said, “You’re missing out on the best part about being alive. The relationship with God! I promise you that if you took the time to know Jesus you’ll be inspired to want a relationship with God.”
“Perhaps, some other time.”
“Don't you have time now? Where will you go this late at night?”
The lawyer thought for a long moment before sighing, “Alright. I have time.”
The lingerer smiled a joyous face and walked along the roadside with his new companion.
“I'm hungry, do you want to get something to eat while you teach me of this Bible?” asked the lawyer.
“Absolutely! Now, it all started in Genesis…”
The two men walked along the roadside to get a late dinner at their city’s finest Chinese restaurant.
The night was warm and their bodies were tired, but he thought to himself, “It is better them than me!”
As he continued walking, he saw a lingerer with his hands in his pockets and his head to the sky.
“Get out of my way, bum!” he said to the lingerer.
Saddened by the tenth mean comment from someone, the lingerer hung his head to the ground and said, “I was only just standing here watching the city.”
“Why? So you can steal something?” asked the lawyer.
“No, because it's peaceful at night. During the day, it's hard to like living in this city. All I see is people arguing, fighting and stealing.”
“If you have such a good head on your shoulder, why are you homeless?” asked the lawyer.
“Both of my parents passed away and I don't have any friends to live with. Every day, I wake up and put applications and then spend my day at the library reading the Bible and using the computer.”
The lawyer was confused about the lingerer’s ways of living and felt guilty for confusing him with the deadbeats who steal, kill, cause trouble and fight.
“Do you read the Bible?” asked the lingerer.
“No, I don't have time for that! I have people to meet and partying to do.”
The lingerer’s eyes became sad. He then said, “You’re missing out on the best part about being alive. The relationship with God! I promise you that if you took the time to know Jesus you’ll be inspired to want a relationship with God.”
“Perhaps, some other time.”
“Don't you have time now? Where will you go this late at night?”
The lawyer thought for a long moment before sighing, “Alright. I have time.”
The lingerer smiled a joyous face and walked along the roadside with his new companion.
“I'm hungry, do you want to get something to eat while you teach me of this Bible?” asked the lawyer.
“Absolutely! Now, it all started in Genesis…”
The two men walked along the roadside to get a late dinner at their city’s finest Chinese restaurant.
Alive by Gretchen Martinez Lopez
August 1, 2017
August 1, 2017
I'm alive.
I don't know what to do with my curiosity.
Are these hands mine? They feel so soft!
What should I eat today? What should I eat tomorrow?
Mom! Dad! I love you so much.
I am alive.
I don't know what to do about school.
All of my friends are mean and I have nobody to run to for help.
I wonder what I'll do when I'm a grown up.
I am alive.
I am stressed and tired.
These bills keep piling up like rocks on a mountain.
Where is God when I need him?
I wonder what my purpose in life is.
What am I supposed to do here?
I am alive.
Things are getting better.
I am married and I have two children.
Life could not get better.
I am alive.
I am getting older and my body is failing me.
Life is not so good right now.
Where is God when I need him?
I am alive.
So many years have passed.
My children are taking care of me.
I'm drifting away.
Dear God, be with me.
I’m alive.
Thank you God.
I don't know what to do with my curiosity.
Are these hands mine? They feel so soft!
What should I eat today? What should I eat tomorrow?
Mom! Dad! I love you so much.
I am alive.
I don't know what to do about school.
All of my friends are mean and I have nobody to run to for help.
I wonder what I'll do when I'm a grown up.
I am alive.
I am stressed and tired.
These bills keep piling up like rocks on a mountain.
Where is God when I need him?
I wonder what my purpose in life is.
What am I supposed to do here?
I am alive.
Things are getting better.
I am married and I have two children.
Life could not get better.
I am alive.
I am getting older and my body is failing me.
Life is not so good right now.
Where is God when I need him?
I am alive.
So many years have passed.
My children are taking care of me.
I'm drifting away.
Dear God, be with me.
I’m alive.
Thank you God.
The Man of Little Faith by Emerich Gibbson
July 31, 2017
July 31, 2017
Shame to me, Lord.
I am the man of little faith, and my voice gets lost
In the presence of my peers.
I am the pliable one who follows the others and from them and their deeds I conform timely.
I am the nonsensical one too!
Bitter and vain from the ways of these streets, I can hear my name echo.
Dear God, help me to be free,
And free shall I be from the ways of the world.
I am the man of little faith, and my voice gets lost
In the presence of my peers.
I am the pliable one who follows the others and from them and their deeds I conform timely.
I am the nonsensical one too!
Bitter and vain from the ways of these streets, I can hear my name echo.
Dear God, help me to be free,
And free shall I be from the ways of the world.