NewPsalm

Psalm 26

2007-07-01T18:23:00.000-07:00

God,
there is no justice
in how I live.
I cast about for
integrity
and come up
with scraped knuckles
-and that is all.

Psalm 25: a lamentation (with a wink @ Yoder)

2007-06-15T08:31:00.000-07:00

seeing always as
one
the cross & empty tomb

remember in college
a dorm-room door
w/a picture:
"SELF" on a grave stone.

what regression,
what rewind
walking backward & shining
into grave
dirt sucked into backhoe
and out into a pile
lifted out still, quiet
with make-up and a suit
and "waking" as the
angry boy i was

where to, the path
i thought i found,
the way i was learning
to learn,
waiting all day

but mercy still:
my childhood recedes
and most i've done
wrong
but what God forgets
i seem to keep
and all the
correction fluid
in all the world
simply will not do
(humiliation seems
not enough
to foster humility)

loving & faithful
trickling understanding
if i submit my
jealous rage

God be God
please
and forgive
(my sin is great
and great fun)
address the room
a question
who here is devout
and tell the
ayes
they have it

will souls find peace
(or even just
actually exist)
and will Your
children's children
inherit their parents' land
-is this truly the point
(please no)-

God whispers to
the devout;
sotto voce
reprove and reward,
quiet glimpses of
a promise
saying
heads up
I'll free you
from your traps

endless mercy
You say
and it will be needed
as my sickness
moves
as also despair
and problems enlarge
and pain
and look at all
my enemies
i don't remember
what i did
but look how much they
hate me

but keep me from my shame
and resurrect me
as Your own
(a smiling golem)
replace my past with
a future of integrity
and put wood in my spine
to be who You want.

redeem in me
a new jerusalem

9/15/06

brain cells
brain sells

Psalm 24: Our Fathers' World

2006-08-29T17:03:00.000-07:00

This world is God’s
and all the sunsets and
mountains and
old-growth forests
in Oregon
(not to mention
small dying men
inhabiting
basements on Chicago’s
near northwest side).
But ascending into God
requires some form
of decency and love
(and probably
good hygiene).
The clean
shall find blessing.
Look hard to see the
face of God
and of your father
who sits in his chair
and looks tired, tired,
and tired
until he thinks
someone is watching.
No, don’t look.
Let God and
your dad
have their rest.
Oh, common ground
reveal yourself
and doors open wide:
God would march
this way.
Oh, sweet love & life &
hard work & sport &
death & loneliness &
confusion & anger & quietude
& joy &
sweet adoration of God’s goodness
reveal yourself
and doors open wide:
God might march
this very way.

1/05/06

if you had
a dad
you might love him

Psalm 23

2006-01-19T16:21:00.000-08:00

1. God holds me close,
and lets me know
that what I have
is more than
enough.
2. God shows me
glorious places
in creation
like the lake
and forest
where we camped.
3. In my darkest,
most deadly moments,
God points out to me
the absurdity
of it all
and I laugh;
God reminds me
of Goodness.
4. And though the
stink of death
is constant
in my home
God had made me
fearless
by making
divinity
clear to me,
by making
my journey
at all
possible.
5. A place is
set for me
at the
Feast of
the Lamb
and a place
for everybody else,
friend or foe.
and God has
designated me
to help host
this Feast.
There is food enough
and New Wine
for all.
6. There is Hope
for all of Life,
and a space
for all of being
helped
and all of
helping
as long as I
have breath
to draw.

3/15/05

lenten meditations past

Psalm 22

2006-01-04T02:00:00.000-08:00

Eli, Eli,
lama sabacthani?
Matt. 27:46

Am I now forgotten
and overcome with
my fantasies of loss?

can you even hear me

In the morning I wake
with Your name on my lips
like "Mother."
At night there is a
darkness in the basement
echoing my voice.
Yet I maintain that
You are Holy
& have inhabited my praise.

My Dad seems calmed by his trust.
You have been a bandage
to his recent orphaning.
This faith is his vocation
but mine is doubt,
doubt confounding all
and inviting their disgust.
And why not?
Oh, look at me:
a laughable waste,
good only as a punch-
line cautionary tale,
good for a head-scratch
& a shrug.
The people all I know
would say,
"Oh listen to his death-wish,
his hastening of apocalypse!
If he's so sure, et cetera."

Still and all, I know
that You were the
very author
of all my hope.
I had little choice
but to learn
Your greatness early.
I am ripe
for Your re-education.
Loss is on my face
always
and no person knows to listen.

The grief of death
[and of getting up to go to work,
and of riding the bus
or shopping for groceries
or walking to church
and seeing the way-laying tragedy
of all the people I might meet]
has surrounded me.
The undiluted pain of
breathing
has bitten me on my
legs & in
my chest.
The pouring out
of my stupid fragile heart
has turned to white noise.
My bones are made
of heavy water.
I don't remember strength
or how to speak.
You have watched me into
the dust of death.
Is this the sound
of dogs licking at
my seeping wounds?
Have I hated myself
into stigmata?
Tell me.
My bones wait for me
to relate your answer.
My beloved are eyeing
my books and guitars
thinking this is
goodbye.

But do not be far.
Hurry to calm me.
Move to stop these growing nicks and cuts,
stay my love from the alleys.
Spare me the mundane
by the power of the miraculous.
I'll speak Your name around me
and point at You.
You have taken note of the sickness
of the ill,
and haven't hidden from them.
But when those Last Gasps
and Why Hast Thous
have sounded
You have known.
I'll tell the ones
who know but doubt
and retell your comfort
to the darkness.
Your heart will live among us.
And maybe in Your comfort
my world will be overcome.
That world is Yours.
It cannot be ours
as we fear and rail against
this death
but cause so much of it.
And I, the least of this,
will serve You,
and You will grow me
into much.
The faithful will come
and exclaim
that this is Your work.

1/3/06

in insufficient memoriam:
Carl Peercy
Mildred Peercy
Michael Dahlquist

Psalm 21: Of Transposition

2005-10-14T23:06:00.000-07:00

If You are strong,
oh God,
I will show joy
and if you help me
(more)
I promise to
rejoice.

is the desire
of my heart
worth requesting

selah

Meet me on the
quad at school
seven years ago
with blessings
and crown me
king of then.

i ask for life
but it's been
forever already

Two weeks from now:
my triumphant return.
You will make my
face and hair
to shine.

should i expect
to see you
in chicago
and be glad

If I believe
hard enough,
rumor has it,
I will be unstoppable.

will Your
granite hand
crush my fear

I am sweating out
my doubts
in the heat of
this farmland,
being swallowed
by the fallow
fields.

i hope not to
poison this
land

The machines
of evil are waiting
there for me,
Monkey wrench them.

distract them
and i'll sneak
behind,
else they'll
shoot me
in my face

I plan to
feel joy
in Your strength,
and sing out loud.

8/18/05

in & out
we dance & shout

Psalm 20: A Prayer on My Birthday

2005-10-03T16:57:00.000-07:00

You are not too broken for God,
you worship the same one as Gustavo Gutierrez,
The God that surprises you
with quiet
and strengthens you
with talk of the Kingdom.
God remembers the
spark of divinity
with which you were born
and will ordain your efforts
if you make them.
God will grant you
a voice from your spirit:
you are completely
known.
God's people
rejoice in your choice
of life
and celebrate you
in the name of God.
Your prayers are
already answered.
God offers you life
and hears you weeping.
You could trust in your
human violence
or you could
expect the wholeness
of Shalom.
That violence will fail you:
You are of
Resurrection People
and may stand up
straight.
God saved you already.
Allow God
to hear you.

7/30/76

3 to go now

Psalm 19

2005-09-01T04:19:00.000-07:00

The sky is a vast twinkling playground
for the child I've made of my God.
Each day is a new word learned
and each night a fancy new trick.
We sit in the yard
and worship the sun
like it's about to be married
or run a race.
Our sun goes everywhere
I can't.
My child-like God
is perfect
so I feel like an idiot.
Right enough to make me
be glad
if I knew how,
pure enough to straighten
my eyesight.
If I could respect
my invention
it would be clean
& everlasting,
Its judgment would
seem fair
and valuable
and sweet.
It would
free my bones
from their permafrost
and I would feel rewarded.
But the faults
I've built into God
aren't to be understood.
They're my dirty secrets,
my automatic failures.
The habits that control me.
I've given up the power
to be innocent
or use words
or give weight to
thought.

7/30/05

another
lousy
day

Psalm 18: Three Views of Deliverance

2005-08-18T21:40:00.000-07:00

I. A Militant God (vs. 1-15)

I hear that God is
my strength
my rock and my
holy
munitions depot.
I hear
that God will save me
from my enemies
if I ask.
(This must be the
Big, Tough
Man-God,
not the Mother
of Creation.)

My enemies number:
1. So many lost to death
and memory.
2. The powerful and ungodly
who terrify the world with
a rush to war.
3. The suffering of the
essentially innocent,
separated from all
human grace.
4. The surround
of need.
5. My failure
to live.

A round five
to start with.

In my distress
shall I now
call to God?

Do I cry out
with my exhausted voice?
Will God hear me
if I pray at my church?

And will God
swallow the Bomb
with an earthquake

Is God a
fire-breather

Will God stand
beside the Pentagon
and cast an eerie shadow

Or ride down
on a cherub
and make darkness
a weapon
and also the rain
to pass over
men in their
radiant glory
to be struck by
hailstones and
burning coal

Will God shout down
arrows of vengeance
or will they be
arrows of mercy?

II. A Lifeguard (vs. 16-28)

Once
the people all
were drowning
and I was among them.
Two
by two
we were gasping.
I dreamed God sent for us;
a huge boat
with a kind and
rugged captain.
The water was thick
like mud, a
strong enemy.
It hated us:
it was far
too strong for me
(I am not
a good swimmer).
The water filled
our pockets
and our shoes
and pulled us
down like
pirates cursed.
God’s captain
lifted us into
the boat
and delivered us
to a broad and
high ground.
He told us
God delighted in us.

I’m unclear as to why.

Were we good
and did we keep
our fingernails
short and clean?
I didn’t, but
I was in the mess
of drowning people
and may have
been mistaken for
one of those
law-abiding
upright
folks who knew that
sooner or later
merit would
win the day.

All those clean hands.

Another time when
I drowned
it occurred to me
that maybe
God is as God does.

In my throes
I was uncomfortable
with the thought.

God saved us
when we were
afflicted,
but were we
knocked down a peg
when we thought
we deserved it?

Does God
simultaneously
light a candle
and
curse our darkness?

III. God’s Werewolf (vs. 29-50)

Dear God,
Thanks for fulfilling my request to become a werewolf. Now, with the power You’ve given me, I am able to run right through the middle of a huge army and leap a high wall like Superman.
This is awesome.
You’re just as good as Your word. You’re like my right-hand man, like the guy who’d help the knights put on their armor.
I keep saying, “Who is God, but our Leader? Who else can you trust?!”
Now that I’m a werewolf I’m super-strong. And no matter where I run off to it’s like I know just how to get back to my lair (that’s what I’m calling the house now, heh heh). I remember that first night looking down at my huge hairy feet. I was like, these aren’t feet these are Hind Feet! And it’s true. I can jump all over the place.
And strong? I can break steel, I’m so strong!
By turning me to a werewolf You’ve really saved me. It’s like You’re holding me up with Your right hand. You’ve turned me into a giant!
My feet are so big I don’t thing I could fall over if I tried!
I mean right away after you changed me I started hunting down my enemies and I didn’t quit until I had eaten every last one of them. First I hurt them so they couldn’t get up and then I’d trample them with these huge feet.
Sometimes out there I was so strong it was like You had them in a full-nelson, just holding them still so I could cut them up with these razor claws I got. And, like, holding their heads back so I could get at their throats.
Oh, they cried alright, but nobody could save them. Some of them even prayed, but too late for them, I was there first getting turned into a werewolf. I’d just go on ahead until there was nothing left but bones for me to grind up into powder that would just blow away in the wind.
Man, God, You have really helped me out here. I am free of enemies now and all the heathens serve me. As soon as people hear about me they obey me, even strangers. They all hide in their closets or under their beds from me.
So, thanks, God, for being real and making me a werewolf. I make sure and tell everybody it’s You who’s given me my power and who holds my enemies down and it’s You who’s saved me from violent men. I brag on You to just everybody. So, thanks.
It is good to receive Your deliverance and mercy. It’s good to feel anointed, me and my kin.

With Love,
Dubya

7/22-24/05

Grr.
Arrgh.

Psalm 17: A Prayer for Sincerity in Service

2005-06-15T13:04:00.000-07:00

I will now pray for
some justice, God.
(I hope You’ll hear me,
even if I simply
participate
in ritual.)

Allow my service to come
from Your justice
and not my liberal guilt;
Give me Your eyes
to see a balancing
of scales.

I endeavor to embrace
Your victory,
to find You in
the darkness.
When searched, I wish
goodness to be found
in me.
(Authenticity is
the new watchword.)
Regardless of the practices
of my fellow strangers,
keep me traveling,
I mean to say,
this better road
You’ve shown me.

I try to
communicate with You
because I do
expect an answer;
lean down here, God,
and hear me whispering.
Show me the outlet
to demonstrate Your
staggering love,
help me create
space
for the people
who are hiding.

Make me the
apple of Your eye…
I’m allergic to apples.
Make me the
good rich red
wine of Your eye.
Keep me in the
cool shade of Your figure.
Strengthen me
against the enemies
of Your creation,
the injustice
that surrounds.
Those enemies
are smart
and quick
and big fat liars,
they pride themselves
on their lack of mercy.
I feel beaten
by them,
I fear injustice
has won.
It has cut me up
and intends
to swallow me.

Manifest Your
plans for Justice!
Deliver me from
failure!
And my sisters
and brothers,
raise them to
the tasks at hand,
remind them that
this word must change.
Keep us to Your will
so we may leave a
richer heritage
for our children.

As for me,
remind me You are right,
and wake me
each morning
to see You.
(amen)

5/26/05

lost like a prayer?
lost like a pray-er?

Psalm 16: Thanksgiving and Ecclesiastic Joy

2005-03-29T13:47:00.000-08:00

1. Continue to
fuel me, God,
as I trust You
more daily.
2.My heart-
my very soul-
rings out!
All good things
I have
come from You.

3. I am
delighted
in this, Your body,
that You have built;
that has
taken me into
itself.
I have found
a church
that I love.
(I'm as surprised
as anyone.)

4. I-
a mutt of humanity,
a mad amalgam
of human failings-
and this wonderful
and motley
band of believers
are joined for
the purposes of
Your Glory.
5. Grace and
Goodness
are our
inheritance,
our glass
is at least
half full
and still filling
with a
sustaining
faith!
6. Into my
line of sight
has come
a beautiful
& inclusive
kingdom.
I'm surprised to find
that there are parts
of my heritage
to be embraced.

7. I will praise God,
Who has given me
great advice
and a conscience
that occasionally
leads me out
of darkness.
8. I will strive
to have God
in front of me.
With this goal,
my doubt and
self-loathing
will not
destroy me.
9. And so.
I am glad.
God is
glorifying me.
God has
introduced to me
the sweetest word,
and it is
Hope.
10. God has
spared me the
endlessness
of my pain.
God has
spared me the
corruption I
often choose to host.
11. God will
reveal to me
the plans
God knows
God has for me
(plans to not fail),
and give me
more of Life.
In God's
giant and
un-
trembling
Hand,
I find
pleasure
evermore.

3/14/05

am I now
known completely?

Psalm 15

2005-03-16T16:55:00.000-08:00

Lord, who shall abide
in thy tabernacle &
who shall dwell in
your holy hill?
The upright and just;
the shit-heeled
and maladjusted.
The pro-bono defense
attorney and
the death-row convert.
The hawks and doves alike
are given Your grace.
In Your Kingdom
G.W. and I will,
together,
sing gospel songs
by Hank Williams.

2/21/05

does it mean that those
who do not wish to row
won't wish to go

Psalm 14: In Fear of Judgment

2005-03-02T17:35:00.000-08:00

Vast corruption and
acts beyond abomination
have become our hallmarks
and are,
undoubtedly,
a denial of God.
A denial, in fact,
that obscures and cancels
our few good acts.

God has been Watching.
(I find this chilling.)
God looked upon us
to see if we were
Building the Kingdom,
to view what mischief
we had made.

I fear God
might have noticed.
God might have seen
the Church,
the followers of Christ.
God may have seen,
specifically,
American individuals
who claim to follow Christ.
God, perhaps,
Did notice our:
-Racist Past
(God, no, our present?)
-Tendency to Refusal
of Love to the Poor,
-Our recent-
and seemingly final-
massive turnout
to Sexualize
our Lord.

For the obdurately unreceptive, I refer here to the large numbers of people who arrived in force to vote, essentially, against homosexuality with a claim of morality. Not to be too ham-fisted, but I want to make sure that my point here is in no way misunderstood.

God probably noticed
that we are
altogether filthy
and are doing
No Good.

As Fools
we have said,
not the classic
“there is no God,”
but the altogether
more vile
“God is as We say.”

Where are those of
our number
speaking Knowledge?
Do we know nothing
of our Christ?
We systematically
destroy people
and this can
have nothing
to do with a
Living God.

Let us hope that
God, having noticed,
has not yet judged us.
God is righteous
and we are
decidedly
not.

We have shamed
the face of the poor
and the sick
and the gay
and the depressed
and the embarrassing
and the ugly
and the beautiful
world Our Lord has given.

(Listen:)
Would we return
to Torah
and, hence, to
communing with God
we would free
the billions
bound up by hatred.
And all the
cloud of witnesses
and all the
Saints would
Rejoice.

2/17/05

All are welcome,
Come to the table.

Psalm 13: A Brief Psalm of Mourning

2005-02-22T17:04:00.000-08:00

These weeks have been long
and my spirit is tired.
How long will you wait to
refresh me, God?
How long will this loss
leave me alone inside myself,
feeling ever sad?
Please help me; dry my tears
before they drown me,
before my fear
and doubt
can say they have won.

selah
(please, God, selah)

No.
You show me constant mercy.
(& I am mostly
Glad in You.)
I will write
a song of praise
to you,
and it will not
be false,
for music is one
of the thousand
gifts you’ve given.

2/15/05

i now wear Grandpa’s watch.
Grandpa’s watch.
it does keep perfect time.

Psalm 12: Of Crooked Smiles

2005-02-18T15:00:00.000-08:00

(God, we always need extra from you, I realize, but here I am again asking for help.)

God help us:
We’ve lost all sight
of what is Godly
and we, as people
Attempting Godliness,
are just disappearing.
The people who
follow God
(granted, at a
great distance)
are growing evermore
selfish and
our hearts are
duplicating fast
to offer our
selves
more opportunities
to serve 2+
master; doubling
to be ourselves
and our shadows.
You will take us,
Lord,
from our duplicity
Easy or Hard
and make known
to us that
Our Pride
Is Simple Sin.
Hear me,
gentle reader,
we will be stricken
mute (and fast)
if we speak doubly
and speak in pride.
And S/He will
humble fiercely
those of us who
claim to answer
only to ourselves.

Selah, people, Selah.

God has told me-
In Intimate
Contact-
that the Poor
and those in dire
Need
Shall be saved and
safe in our Lord.

(Let us give thanks,
now,
for the Word of God.)

God’s word is pure
like a sword forged
in the sun’s own fire.
Believe what God
has sent me to tell you,
kind reader.
We are given the
suffering masses
so that we may
Serve Our Lord.
Ignoring this call
is a rejection of
the God you worship.

God, I know
that you will save
those masses from
the rest of us.
We will revile
and dispose if
left to our own
flawed devices.
We, the wicked
idolaters who falsely
claim you,
are on each side of
the oppressed
and are praised
repeatedly
for our wicked success.

1/29/05

We surround, like jackals,the very ones who need us.

Psalm 11: Remembering the Fight That Is Good

2005-02-15T14:31:00.000-08:00

1.
I signed on
for something great
but am told to
run
like a frightened child
to a mother’s warm
embrace.
The life that is made
of trying to live
the way I know is right
is a life of fearing
failure daily,
fear like a bone-deep
knowledge of the time
of one’s death,
this knowledge belies
the ways and means
of those who mean
far worse than we.

2.
The very rules of
engagement have
been destroyed by
the practice of profit,
our enemies own the
very streets on which
we try to stand.
The basic sounds we make
are different,
how then do we
communicate our wish
to love them like
we ought.

3.
Our God
is firmly in place,
in all and every
thing;
And Our God
is in Them.

4.
God’s eye sees us
both, and God’s eye
closes in judgment.
God, we wish not judgment,
but mercy for all.

5.
Our Lord will test us
in our right convictions;
but God’s will is tried
on their false
ideology as well.
God hates the
Soul of Violence.

6.
Evil is undone
in history, and
has laid in place
a trap for every lie,
and a trial for
each injustice.
We must fear for
Our wicked enemy’s
fate.

7.
God is good,
hence God loves goodness;
God smiles on us,
friend, and watches
us in good faith.

1/27/05

perfect practice
makes perfect

Psalm 10: A Psalm of Anger and Dejection

2005-01-27T19:04:00.000-08:00

“Why standeth thou afar off, O Lord? Why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble?”

Pt. I
Oh God,
Where are You now?
Another fine mess, and all the rest.
I am of the opinion,
Ethereal Father Figure of Ultimate Value Judgment,
that You definitely exist
but have gotten too busy
to tend to me.
These times are difficult
and, lo, I am alone.

(Is this language Psalmy enough, God,
is this the way I am to
speak to You?)

Pacify me soon.
This grammar is not
the grammar of God
that I know.
I wish to praise
and to share Joy
and some measure of Peace.
Give me one Godly thing
unfucked
so I can keep practicing
(it’ll work if I work it,
fake it til you make it,
and all that rot).
One thing, God,
unfuckedup
to convince me
the night will end.

Pt. II (less of self this go)

The poor, God, You’ve met
them. They daily come
to You by thousands, young
and old, by deficit
of food
and by surplus
of dirty water.
And You are called just.
(Please explain.)
Recent years, and all
years past,
propose a solution
to living as:
If you steal, steal big.
Our prisons are not
populated by
Chief Executive Officers.
But, God, the boss of
Krispy Kreme
makes $720 an hour.
(Remember the thousands of
poor I mentioned who die from dirty water.)
Also, God,
I presume You need
no reminding of
high rise filing cabinets
full of the disenfranchised.
And also…
Well, God, look at it,
this filthy world.
There is Wickedness,
God,
Vile as any has been.
It is hiding in every
neighborhood and
slum and
gated community.
It is a swift
and efficient
murderer of hope
and goodness and
innocence
(real & imagined).
In the churches
and office buildings
and the crackhouses
and hospitals
a losing battle
seems fought.
And why do You
stand so far
away?
Come and avenge
me of the cynicism
You’ve built into me, God.
Every few weeks I
try to get up off
the floor and remember
who You are
but, honestly, God,
this world and,
specifically,
some of Your
people in it
are kicking
my feeble
ass.
You have heard the needs
of the humble and will
prepare their hearts and
make them hear You.
Am I not humble
enough?
I don’t think I
can think less of
myself without
disappearing.
If breaking further’s
what I need to
be whole
then fucking break
me.
Or blow me out of
this dark glass
and take me home.
-that the person of earth
may no longer oppress-

1/25-26/05

We die, we die.
First we go wet,
& then we go dry.

Psalm 9: My Bile/God's Judgment, (for Inauguration Day)

2005-01-27T18:59:00.000-08:00

[1] God, I know I’m supposed to spend time praising You. I remember this sometimes and feel a familiar guilt, a superstitious notion that things won’t work if I’m not doing it (praising). I apologize for not doing so more. I should think more often about the way I felt when I first approached the Rockies. [2] I recall a sense of enthusiasm and of hope. “Here is something Good and Pure,” I remember thinking. Those mountains force me to encounter You. I don’t know if it’s because of their daunting beauty or their size and scope or maybe just their close proximity to outer space (which is where we’re taught You live).

[3] This weekend I was in the country on a hill with a large collection of warm and bright Young People from several uncommonly thoughtful Baptist churches. For the time I was there I felt confirmed in my faith that Your kingdom can be built here on earth. I remembered my conviction of the victory that Your people are waiting for. [4] I believe (though I don’t always feel convinced of it) that the right things I’ve done- few and far between- have been successful because they’ve been ordained by You.

[5]I heard that the pastor of some of these young people preached a sermon recently entitled “The Greatest Tragedy of All.” It was about the Tsunami. Stop me if You think You’ve heard this one before. Apparently the “Greatest Tragedy” was that most of those people who died weren’t Christians (he probably said they didn’t “know God”).

He’s a funny fuckin’ guy, God, I just don’t get the joke.

I read the 9th Psalm (the one in the Bible, not the one I’m writing). It suggests some interpretation for the Tsunami from the same sort of point of view.

[6] If they (the people who died) were enemies of Yours (which I just don’t imagine) then I guess You put a pretty definitive stop to that. Their cities are gone and with them much of their history. [7] Apparently they were going to destroy You. Isn’t that the Old Testament rationale? Enemies of God destroyed by God (or by God’s human tools)? That way, see, we can have a binary vision of good v. evil and dismiss the mass dead. Like when You let the bad Muslims destroy the World Trade Center because America loves Fags.

Well.
That’s fucking stupid.

[8] If Your standard of judgment is righteousness and You’re as harsh a judge as Falwell claims, then the United States would have been snuffed in its colonial infancy. But instead the prestigious forefathers of this proud nation gave away blankets infested with small pox.

Just to clarify: You do know, don’t You, that nefarious shit like this has been done for thousands of years by people claiming Your name and that of Your Son.

[9] But, see, it’s my understanding that You will harbor oppressed people. And that’s a little contradictory to the idea of slaughtering a bunch of poor people. (Bear with me here, I’m trying to believe this.) [10] And I understand also that those who know a bit about You trust You and that You’re kind to people who are trying to figure things out.

Am I on Target so far? I got these ideas from the Bible.

[11] This is the You in which I believe. A Good God who loves and wishes the people to do likewise. To feed hungry people and house people without homes and to Act Justly, God, and not kill people. That’s the You I’m interested in telling other people about. Me? Not so big on the deathly destructive version of You I’ve heard so much about.

[12] And if You’re the killer I’ve seen You painted to be, why isn’t my country dead yet? You love humility, right? And kind of despise hubris, am I right? How, then, do “we” win wars, this prideful ugly nation?

[13] If You’re who they’re saying, America should be really fucking afraid. We should be begging Your mercy (Well. We should be doing that anyway, right, fear or no.) and apologizing to the families of so many dead and poor and enfeebled humans.

And also we ought to be busy draining the funding of our killing machine and absolutely pouring that money into selflessly easing the suffering of the world around us.

Because- ooh, what about this? - what if You have chosen the U.S., and just love this place. But! We keep fucking up, just like Israel did so much in the Old Testament. Maybe we should, like I said, work on rectifying the wrongdoing we’ve perpetrated, but do so recognizing all the times we should have failed in our endeavors but just didn’t somehow (I mean, ask logicians, they generally think Hitler would have won the war at the rate he was going).

[14] But You have spared “us.” Like You’ve spared me so many times, times when- looking back- I can’t help thinking You made the wrong decision. But You’ve done so, redeemed little ol’ unredeemable me, so that- I believe- I could recognize Your wonder and pass it along to the people I know and simply Rejoice at their own recognition. How good! How prolonged the realization of redemption!

Dr. King knew of whence he spoke, Bless him.

[15] My enemies are usually internal, as You know. But in spite of how much battle I do with them, I realize they are bound up of themselves.

[16] I mean, hey, You made me and I’m fucked up. And like my man Lenny Bruce said, “If it’s flawed- if it is dirty- the fault lies in the manufacturer.” And we humans like to acknowledge You according to Your punishments. But I wonder if You didn’t punish me preemptively by supplying this self-loathing in accordance with all the shitty things I’ve ended up doing in spite of contrary options.
Just sort of riffing here, God.

Let me take a breath: Higgaion.
Selah.

[17] I fear that I simply accept all my misery as a given only because I secretly hope all the bad people will suffer, too, and all the empires (like ours here in the U.S.).

I don’t want anybody to suffer, God.

[18] We, here in the world’s wealthiest nation, have allowed poverty to not only persist, but flourish. I have a hunch You’re keeping score in this regard. That makes me want to hide. Because the People (of whom I so falsely fond) will not remain in a state of death.

[19] God.

(Here’s my thing.)

God, please don’t let the human sense of self-preservation win. Don’t let believers get sucked into the vacuous masquerade of individualism and narcissism. We’ve traveled very far down that road hence and we have only done good there by freak accident.

I’m asking You to remove the potential for those accidents. I think that’s the best way to change our course: Stop allowing us to benefit from base selfish behavior.

[20] I believe You are great.

Well, change us then. Make us right.

God, as dangerous as it is, I’m asking You to make us humble.

As in:
Humiliate Us, God. It’s the only way I think we’ll be saved.

1/18-20/05

I’m collecting friends, fast as I can, before I make sure this is all over. Have you seen me lately?

Psalm 8: Two Views of Creation

2004-12-29T19:30:00.000-08:00

v1.0

Our excellent God
has created an
Excellent World.
I have camped
many times
with Love
in the woods & lakes
of Central Wisconsin
and have gotten up
with a soft sullen
Sun
to see the ducks &
geese leaving a lake
called Mauthe
and have felt the
chill air
and wondered-
no exulted-
in my blessing
to be what seemed
the only human animal
seeing the
brilliantined light
in the moist leaves
and glistening raccoon
tracks and surprisingly
smoldering embers
of last night’s fire.
I have rolled a papered
tube of God-proven
death
and touched it with fire
(man’s favorite miracle)
and grinned (breathing smoke)
so broad my face
might break
to hear the splash
of a few fattened bass
and walleye down the hill.
I’ve built fire.
What power is mine
to command base elements!
And have read powerful words of
Peace made laughable
by the peace I
experienced there.
Well.
Praise God, then,for this should be life.

v2.0

Our excellent God
has created an
excellent world.
I have lived,
lo these five years,
in this nation’s 3rd
largest city, next
to a giant &
filthy lake.
I have awakened
in the near-constant
dark
& heard the sirens
and the cautionary tale
of reversing garbage trucks
(nearer still, my
Lake Shore Drive,
to thee)
& have layered my
clothing thrice to
defeat the wet knife
of wind from the Lake,
and wondered-
no, cursed-
the misery
I’ve chosen in
being another
anybody
in a sea of same
to see the shadows
downtown that make dusk
permanent and turn
away from the
besotted corpse begging change
and focusing on the spare
seconds of warmth from
my cigarette.
I’ve lit that cigarette
walking out of
Dunkin’ Donuts
(for reasons known
only to the Gods)
and grimaced
at the slamming
closed of loading dock
doors and truck hatches.
I’ve watched
crazed indigents
burn corrugated cardboard
desperately and have
read the vapid advertisements
on the side of various buses
and taxi-cabs
made inconsequential
by the vacuous life
I am living.
Well.
Praise God, then,
for life is as it is.

7th Psalm- Workers Working

2004-12-17T12:00:00.000-08:00

God, if I have faith in you,
save me from pain
before the pain destroys me.

If I have done evil,
If my hands are dirty
If I hurt a person who loved me
(and I’ve tried to protect
even people who seem
to hate me),
Then let the ones who
hate me
Win.
(Let what’s left
of my soul
Rot
with that hatred)
Let them drive me
into the ground
and send my dignity
and my reputation
with me.

But, God, please
Rise Up
against the vast injustice
that is my enemy
and impassion me
to Act Publicly
against it.
And let Us
bring All of
the People
against it
to Surround Your Justice.

(say that out loud)

To Surround
Your Justice

And for the
People
I ask You to
take over.

If You will judge them,
If You will judge
The Faithful,
Judge Me
according to my
faithfulness
and my
integrity
(for I should be
making them better)

Change the people
making evil
to make no more
but build them up
who make justice.
You are Who
evaluates
our Faith
& our Practice.

I am alone.
Defeat me if I’m
not doing your work..

(justicia si, guerra no)

God has commanded
Justice.
God must be
sick of us by now.
We have
armed ourselves
quite wicked
and created
New & Exciting
ways to destroy each other.

We have created
Hell all on our own.

There is no way
We could keep this
from falling back
onto us.

Praise God
for making us
so fallible.

(?)

12/05/04

whose side are you on, boys,
whose side are you on

Psalm 6

2004-11-20T16:00:00.000-08:00

Note: I have been trying to make these psalms basically companion pieces to the real Psalms. This is a definite exception. I found Psalms 5 & 6 to be hysterically contradictory (in the KJV, that is) and just couldn't quite get my head wrapped around writing companion pieces without them being laughable.
So. This psalm is a specific follow-up to my fifth. Please read the fifth first. I hope they stand alone, but I think it casts a pretty good contextual light on this psalm to read the other first.

I just remembered.
At a concert last
night I balled
up with ill will
upon sight of the
2nd opening act
who looked just
like an educated
and kindly version
of the kid who
lives next door to
my parents.
I do not remember
much of his performance
but I remember that
my anger welled
and I wept hard
bitter icy tears.

It is time to
play benevolent.
I am forgiven by
God and should now
be forgiving:

My parents were busy
with their first and
second
and it seemed to me
they forgot the third
until he disappeared
and by then it was too
far, much to far,
to retrace all the
millions of steps.
My parents love me,
even if I baffle them.
I love them, for
they are people of
simple and fervent
faith who try to make
sense of the charnel
house the world has
become around them.
I forgive my father
his vocation
and my mother
her devotion.

My brother was
alone and awkward
as any boy
and his anger spilled
onto me for the first
thirteen years of
my semi-visible life.
He hurt me,
fierce fists and
brief suffocations
and contempt for
the fuck-up I was
bound to become.
Hate is learned and
my brother attended
public school.
I do not begrudge
Michael his
former youth with
dreams of escape,
I see that we are
more the same than
any could imagine.
I forgive my
Brother his image
of me as
Surrogate Effigy.

Jessica at five
years old, and
Annie at fifteen.
And every desperate
clutch thereafter,
23 years in
concentric circles
of loving more
than I knew how.
Yes, very terrifying.
I forgive them
all of their
collective contempt.

That girl years
ago, so fragile
by the end, who
loved someone
else in secret for
those 3+ years.
The same girl who
slept while I'd
smoke and cry
in the other room
bathed in blue light
and radio static.
I forgive-
and who wouldn't-
her longing for
a stability I'd
never heard of.

And my friend
who took my place.
My friend who
filled every gap
in my absence.
Who did secretly love
the one who I loved
and love tonight.
My friend who
became on one birthday
a stranger.
I forgive his
desire
for it was
my own.

And you who
isn't witnessing
tonight,
who abandoned
me only in part.
Who abandoned my
scent and my child-
worship and my
early senility and
my Gentile Judaism.
Who abandoned my
abandoned Self-Control.
I forgive you
your absence
because you were
ever-present during
my own, and
no person deserves
to inherit such
loneliness.

sigh

My shitty,
Shitty ex-
brother-in-law,
who accused and
hated. Who lied
and stole children.
Who refused and
wounded and never
looked back nor
apologized.

I am convinced
that you led with
your heart.
Corrupt it may
be, but your heart
was as good as
it could possibly manage.
I forgive you
your appetites, for
Flesh is Flesh.
I forgive you
the courtroom, for
I think you believed
I was a monster and
I believe you were
mislead by your mother.
I forgive you
the Appalachians
and the distance
from home you've
taken your son, for
I know that his
world is much bigger
now.
I forgive you,
and it's taken
me years.
But.
Know that if
you damage that
frail spirit any
more than it's
been, I will,
with certainty,
destroy you.

Jerry Falwell and
George W. Bush.
Jimmys,
Bakker and Swaggart.
Red-staters and
Border People.
Television personalities
and corporate whores.
Policemen and
attorneys.
Barkeeps and
Harlots and
Chimenysweeps all sad and lonely
You are Forgiven
Your unwitting Debts.
You are known and loved-
though perhaps not by me-
and I cannot show
forth my contempt.

My contempt
and my loathing,
my impotent rage,
my longing and longing
and selfish despair.
As long as these
reign...
As long as I serve
two masters
my forgiveness
may never flow
in.

Marty.
Unforgiven by
Marty.
Unwilling to accept
these sacrifices.
Grace is simply
not enough.

11/19/04

grace is simply not enough

Psalm 5: The Enemy

2004-11-20T14:17:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking
a great deal
(a sure sign of trouble)
about enemies.

I have no
corporeal enemies.

God be praised
and
Knock on wood.

However.
God, I hate my job
and all the
dolour and decay
inside of me
from doing it.
My job is an
enemy.

As is my laziness,
my obdurate refusal
to do my dishes
or volunteer,
my stubborn disinclination
to hang up my clothes
or telephone
old friends.
My laziness is an
enemy.

As is my anger,
my blind rage at
inconvenience and
the failure of
Rural Populism,
my choking indignation
at selfish women
and arrogant men.
Yes, and so much more
(my God, so much anger).
My Anger is,
most certainly,
an enemy.

And there are
other enemies
locked into my
spirit. Like
ramoneurs and
whores in the French
Quarter, my enemies
exhibit an old world that
by rights should have
disappeared and been
nearly forgotten.

But no enemies
corporeal.

Except.

11/19/04

so much more
than this to say

Psalm 4- A Song of [what is called] "Mercy"

2004-11-06T10:00:00.000-08:00

I think of mercy
and find myself at a bit
of a loss.
"Mercy" has a cognitive resonance
as Concept and Denotation but
a crucial experiential
disconnect arises.
Now.
While I am certain I
have experienced Mercy
(for example, I have
awakened outside
after a bad drunk
unhurt and unrobbed)
and I hope I have
Shown Mercy
by taking blame
(for bad relationships, perhaps,
with friends and family and lovers;
always I am at fault).
I presume-
and essentially believe-
that God has shown
me Mercy.
I must ask God to do it
again.

I've been wasting
chances to see better
and to live a life I could
countenance in daylight.
I live filthy.
(God has seen it.)
And it must be a
shame to God
to see me fucking up
like this,
when I was given more than
enough tools
to cope with the
Grand Hassle
of living.

I understand that
God loves me,
as God loves all
small and backward
creatures.
But it seems to me
God loves me more
when I'm doing
Right
(which ain't that often).
Now. I'm not
Right, but I've
been Right-er
lately than I think
I've ever been.
So I think God's
going to help me
with this.

I'm being surprised
pretty constantly
these last couple
of years, as dark
as it's been.
Pretty amazed
that there is still
some goodness to be
found, even in a few
dark places.
I think about it
at home
by myself
trying not to die yet,
and I find my
waking hours,
at length,
devolving into sleep,
sometimes restful.

Selah
(man, mean it:
Selah!)

There are so many things
in every new day
that I know
I need to put away
for now and ever.
No smoking
No hard drinking
No more paralyzing rage.
The sacrifice that's
left for me
is Doing Things
That Are Good.
There isn't self-
denial enough
to merit all the
Grace and Good Favor.
Never enough that
I could do to
turn this ugly
stupid world around
but trust
as Dr. King
that the Universe
Bends toward Justice
(praise God)
Not only can this all
be better, but
it Must and
Will Be.

Now. I, as most,
demand to see this
arc toward justice
and I want to see
it now.
But as I wait
and try to work
(Remaining vigilant!
This must be key!)
to complete this
bend, I must ask
my God to give
me sight that
recognizes the justice
being met today,
to sustain me
(it is oh so dark
this week, GWB).

I see!
My practiced poverty
is practical in prelude
to the service
I must seek.
Trusting that I
can serve well,
this is the happiest
I've ever been.

Not only do I
swear to live
this Justice-
to do my
level best to
Live Out the
Peace I know
Will Be-
I swear that
my life will fit
me best on the
days that I
succeed.
And, yes!,
Sweet God, I
do know mercy,
and I know
my only source
for Mercy, God,
for Peace
is that which
I find in
Living
You.

10/29/04
11/5/04

so hard
to be so positive

3rd Psalm- A Cry For Help in the Dark Night

2004-10-29T21:06:00.000-07:00

God,
I was considering
this morning on the train
several things that
gave me a fleeting
sense of happiness.
I thought I
appreciated them,
but I remembered, also,
how short they were.
And I remembered
that during a
commercial break
from ALCS game 6,
Fox News Chicago
outraged me
and tried to lure more
viewers for the late news
by showing some of the
security footage
from the train bombings
in Madrid
(that I’d forgotten).
They showed the
People Running
in the smoky station
and a bomb exploded.

God,
baseball seems
real small.
And that reminds
me,
Why is all the ugliness
so huge, and all the
things I’m told
to remind me of
your faithfulness
are really very
small?

Your faithfulness
is “Great”
isn’t it?

God,
What about this
darkness, this despair
and sadness and
howling rage?
What of this
exhaustion and
total disappointment
and Dread?
I believe that You
are big enough
and strong,
and are able
to blow this out
of me,
but I don’t know
how to ask.

Now. Is this the
Myth of Healing,
and how Lovely People
die?
Is prayer for healing
simply exercise?
Is it my faith in
you that makes the
difference, or my
faith in my faith?
And if it is the latter,
God,
then who am I
to worship?

God,
I’m waiting to die.
I’m rendered rather
ineffective
and am
Quietly Disappearing
this weekend.

10/21/04

Tired of Screaming
"Love Me"

2nd Psalm- Of the Morning

2004-10-23T15:05:00.000-07:00

I was recently directed
to a computerized
Sinners' Prayer
fulminating in a chance to
win an H2 Hummer.
The anathema
and the insult.
I was, thereby, further
convinced of my doom.

Another story I heard
was of a [wayward] brother
in Tulsa who claims his
own personal yellow H2
is indeed his Christian trademark.
The other brother who related this
unto me & mine said:
"While you're fucking up the environment,
your church is fucking up the gospel.
A fitting trademark, indeed."

Our Lord has blessed me
Golden
With an opportunity to
understand these two
divergent narratives
and charged me, it would seem,
with reconciliation.

God, I'm not so sure
I'm smart enough to
pull this off.
I'm not at all so certain
that my rage can be
contained.

And if G.W.
should win again this year,
I'm not convinced
the gap to come
will be one I
can bridge.

I'd like some
practical advice on
how to lean not
on my own understanding,
since it's all you've
given me
apart from righteous anger
(the answer book seems
pretty confusing, since
men have taken to distorting).

You can break us with
a rod of iron
and dash us into
pieces as a
potter's vessel.
But will you, now,
instead of that,
bring us to Torah
and Jubilee
so my brother will
give up his Hummer
and, I, my
presumption of
your right hand.

10/15/04

Psalm 1: Of the Morning

2004-10-20T14:48:00.000-07:00

Even though
the Hairclub commercial
kept me up late
with its bad replacements
of self-esteem and
sad pictures of
mangy women,
I feel pretty good at
six-thirty a.m.
and am quite looking
forward to a special
day.
selah

The train has decided
to be somewhat crowded
this morning
but I am sitting alone
in a single chair
and have on brown socks
with my black shoes
and dusty-green pants.
selah

I am going today
to a fancy luncheon
where the Colombian activist
will inform us of current conditions
in forgotten old Colombia.
I’m very excited.
selah

Though my rent is
13 days late
I feel hopeful
about the day.
I’ve always felt
Provided for
By God and the
talents He has given me.
For instance:
Today I will eat lunch
for free
and with the
Colombian Activist,
at that.
selah

A New Discipline

2004-10-19T23:32:00.000-07:00

I have set a new project for myself.

In the coming year I intend to write 150 psalms.

Originally I thought I should get up early (earlier, I should say, considering the fact that my normal wage-slave job requires me to open the school where I work by seven-thirty a.m. Monday through Friday... I get up early already, that's what) and write a psalm each morning for 150 days.

Day two I barely got to work on time.
Four days in I wrote the second psalm.

Sniff.

Let's be realistic. I can write 150 poems in a year. However, 150 poems in 150 days seems like more than a pipe-dream.

So. Here I will add, as frequently as I can produce, brand new psalms of devotion and failure and fear and joy, but only as often as I can get my lazy ass around to doing it.

I hope you enjoy.
Well, I hope we both enjoy.

Paz,
Salaam,
Shalom

-tackcity