Saturday, April 5, 2014

STONES


STONES

 

BY

 

FRANK A VOLLMER

 

 





WHEN GROWNUPS DIE 

IT'S NOT SO BAD 

ONE THINKS OF FLOWERS 

READY TO BE PICKED

  

BUT CHILDREN

 CHILDREN ARE ANOTHER THING

 

TO SEE THEIR GRAVE SITES

 WET 

AS IF THE SKY WAS CRYING

 

 ALL STRUCK DOWN 

SAME HOUR AND SAME PLACE

  

IN A SCHOOL

 A PLACE OF REFUGE

 

LEAVING PARENTS 

EMPTY 

DREAMS BROKEN

  

CRYING WHY 

WITH NO ANSWER 

 

BUT ONLY LEFT TO GRIEVE 

UNDER THE DISMAL WINTER RAIN 

FALLING FROM DECEMBER SKY 

ON THE LIFELESS TOMBSTONES

WET

 WHILE RACHAEL’S SISTERS

WAIL WHY

 

HOW QUICKLY

WILL THE GRASS

 CLAIM THE GRAVES

 

 AUTUMN LEAVES WILL CLING TO THE STONES

 UNTIL THE WIND BLOWS THEM AWAY

 AS IF THEY WANTED TO KISS THE CHILDREN IN PASSING

 

HOW MANY POEMS UNBEGUN ARE BURIED HERE 

HOW MUCH LAUGHTER, TEARS AND JOY

 

HOW MUCH SORROW IS ENTOMBED

  

THE CHILDREN NOT COMING HOME FROM SCHOOL

SPLASHING THROUGH EACH PUDDLE FOUND

 

THE PARENTS BUNDLED AGAINST THE RAIN 

MAKE QUICK THE TRIP FROM WORK TO HOME

TO FIND AN EMPTY NEST 

LAUGHTER GONE

  

THEY SHED TEARS

LIKE RAIN ON THE GRAVESITES

AS IF THE SKY WAS CRYING

 

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Zen Garden



FIVE ROCKS THERE ARE

THOUGH IT SEES LIKE MORE

GRAVEL AND SOME MOSS


THE ROCKS ARE SMALL

THE GRAVEL RAKED

THE MOSS GROWS WHERE IT WILL

 

AT FIRST

I TRIED TO FIND THE MEANING OF THE STONES

WERE THEY SHIPS OR MOUNTAINS


PERHAPS A TIGER AND ITS PREY

I TRIED TO MEASURE IN MY MIND

THE SPACING OF THE ROCK

TO MAKE THEM FIT A SCIENCE


SO MUCH HERE

SO MUCH THERE

BUT IT WOULDN'T WORK

IT WOULDN'T FIT


I STARTED TO GET UP

TO GO AWAY

TO LEAVE THE GARDEN

THAT WOULDN'T FIT MY SCIENCE


BUT HESITATED

DISTURBED BY FAILURE

SAT BACK DOWN


BE QUIET AND UNKNOWING

SEEMED TO SAY THE WIND


BE QUIET AND STILL

LIKE A POOL OF WATER

BE STILL AND DEEP


GIVE BACK TO THE SKY ITS BRIGHTNESS 

IN THE DEPTHS OF YOUR BEING


BE STILL


THE WIND'S RIPPLES CANNOT DISTURB YOU


BE STILL


BE STILL


 QUIET


YET KNOWING


 

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Tombstone Reader


 

I WANDERED THROUGH THE HILLSIDE CEMETERY

TRYING TO READ

THE WEATHERED MARKINGS ON THE STONES


 SOME STALWART ONES

STILL LEANED AGAINST THE HILL


 WHILE OTHERS

TIRED


HAD FALLEN AND SETTLED

 ON THE GROUND


IT WAS AN ANCIENT CEMETERY

WEATHER-WORN AND OVERGROWN

YET HERE I FOUND ONE PLOT

THOUGH OVERGROWN AS WERE THE REST

BORE ON ITS BOSOM A ROSE BUSH


THE STONE STILL STANDING

ETCHED UPON IT VERY DEEP

AS IF TO SHOW THE CARVER'S SORROW

WAS WRITTEN ANNIE

 NOTHING MORE


HOW PRETTY THE BUSH

IN THIS SO DESOLATE SPOT

I WONDERED WHO HAD PLANTED IT


SOME LOVER OR A HUSBAND

HAD DUG AWAY THE DIRT

THEN STANDING

 LOOKING AT IT

 HAD RECALLED LAUGHTER


 SOME SISTER OR A BROTHER

 HAD LOOKING AT THE STONE

 REMEMBERED THE BITTER THINGS

 THAT CHILDREN SOMETIMES SAY


 SOME CHILD

 HAD LOVINGLY PATTED DOWN THE EARTH

 GAVE IT

 ITS FIRST WATERING

 TEARS


 SOME MOTHER

OR A FATHER

 LOOKING AT IT BLOOMING

 HAD CAUGHT THEMSELVES REPEATING

ANNIE ANNIE ANNIE


 WHAT WAS ANNIE REALLY LIKE

 I THOUGHT


 IT HAD GROWN DARK

THE SUN WAS COLD


 SLOWLY SETTING

 WHAT WAS ANNIE REALLY LIKE

 I THOUGHT


 I PLUCKED A ROSE

 FROM OFF THE BUSH


 THEN SLOWLY WALKED THE HILLSIDE DOWN

CRADLING IT IN MY HAND


 


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OUR TOWN





YOU MIGHT HAVE CALLED IT

THE LAS VEGAS OF THE EAST

OR A LIBERTY TOWN FOR THE FLEET

OR SAN FRANCISCO

DURING THE GOLD RUSH

IT LIVED UP TO ITS REPUTATION

OF ANYTHING GOES

THE TOWN OF CAESAREA PHILLIPI


MOST JEWS WOULD AVOID THE CITY

FOR ITS PAGAN TEMPLES


ITS PAGAN CONDUCT


PAN

WHO WAS WORSHIPPED THERE

WAS A FERTILITY GOD

WITH ALL ITS RITUALISTIC SEXUAL CONDUCT

 

ALSO IT WAS A SITE FOR EMPEROR WORSHIP


 ALSO THERE WAS A SHRINE

FOR DANCING GOATS

FOR PAN COULD SET GOATS A DANCING

BY PLAYING ON HIS SYRINX

HIS PAN PIPES


IT WAS ALSO A BURIAL PLACE FOR THOSE SACRED GOATS


THERE WAS ALSO A GROTTO

 
WITH A DEEP POOL

INTO WHICH SACRIFICES WERE THROWN


 THE ENTRANCE TO THE CAVE

WAS CALLED

THE GATES OF HADES


 IT WAS HERE THAT CHRIST CALLED PETER ROCK

MUCH HAS BEEN MADE

THAT CHRIST MEANT PETER TO BE THE FIRST IN SUCCESSION

THERE ARE GOOD ARGUMENTS

FOR BOTH POSITIONS

POSITIVE AND NEGATIVE


 I THINK CHRIST WAS ONLY THINKING

OF HIS FRIEND PETER

HOW HE MATCHED THE MOLD

OF SO MANY TESTAMENT HEROES

HE WAS A FLAWED INDIVIDUAL


 HE STARTS HIS CHURCH

IN A BAD NEIGHBORHOOD

WHERE GOOD PEOPLE DON’T GO

HE SENT A SINNER

SO SINNERS COULD IDENTIFY

HE SENT A WORKER

WITH CALLOUSED HANDS

SO THAT THE POOR COULD IDENTIFY

PETER FELT INFERIOR TO THE TASK

BUT CHRIST SAID

WITH ME ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE


 CAESAREA PHILLIPI IS NO MORE

THE TEMPLES ARE IN RUINS

THE CAVE COLLAPSED


BUT CHRIST LOOKS DOWN THE AGES

SAYS

YOU ARE MY ROCKS

ON YOU I BUILD MY CHURCH


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THE SOWER (Matt 13:3-23; Mk 4:2-20; Lk 8:4-15 )




 


THE SOWER WENT OUT TO SOW HIS SEEDS

TRA-LA


THE SOWER WENT OUT TO SOW HIS SEEDS

HE FLUNG THEM HIGH

HE FLUNG THEM LOW

HE FLUNG THEM WIDE

HE FLUNG THEM NEAR

TRA-LA


 SOME FELL ON HARD GROUND

LIKE A TAMPED DOWN PATH

COULD NOT ROOT AND DIED


 WHOSE FAULT

TO CREATE AN ENVIRONMENT

IN WHICH NOTHING THRIVES


LIKE KEEPING A CHILD ALIVE IN THE WOMB

IGNORING IT THE REST OF ITS LIFE

WHILE BIRDS DEVOURED ITS SUBSTANCE


 THE SOWER WENT OUT TO SOW HIS SEED

PRODIGAL IN HIS SOWING

THOSE WHO FAILED TO THRIVE

BECAUSE OF PERSONAL FAULTS

DESERVE THEIR FATE


 BUT THOSE WHO FAILED TO THRIVE

BECAUSE OTHERS FAILED TO PREPARE THE FIELD

OR MADE THE FIELD UNFRUITFUL

WITH ROCKS AND THORNS NOT REMOVED

WHO SINS FOR NOT THRIVING


THE SEED

OR THOSE WHO ILL PREPARED THE FIELD

BY EITHER NEGLIGENCE

OR DELIBERATE


 LIKE A CHILD

BORN POOR

WHO DIES HUNGRY

DO WE BLAME THE CHILD

FOR FAILING TO THRIVE


 LIKE A CHILD BORN

TO A RACE THAT IS HATED

WHO NEVER BLOOMS

FOR LACK OF LIGHT


 WHO’S TO BLAME

FOR SEED FAILURE

IN EVEN GOOD LAND

WHEN A  FEW CONTROL MOISTURE

LET FIELDS GO DRY

 


WE’RE TOLD

THERE WILL BE A RECKONING

WHY NOT NOW


 THE SOWER WENT OUT TO SOW HIS SEEDS

TRA-LA


 THE SOWER WENT OUT TO SOW HIS SEEDS

HE FLUNG THEM HIGH

HE FLUNG THEM LOW

HE FLUNG THEM WIDE

HE FLUNG THEM NEAR


TRA-LA


 


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Elijah



I LOOKED FOR THE LORD

WALKING THE HIGH RIDGE BUFFETED BY STORM

WATCHING THE AVALANCHE COME CRASHING DOWN


 

CRIED OUT

WHERE ARE YOU LORD

BUT HEARD ONLY THE WIND


 I STOOD BEFORE A WATERFALL

 WATCHED THE MAGNIFICENT PLUNGE OF WATER

DEAFENED BY ITS ROAR

 

CRIED OUT

WHERE ARE YOU LORD




THE WOODS CAUGHT FIRE THE FLAME RAGED FIERCE

THE HEAT BROKE ROCKS

RELENTLESS WAS THE FLAME 

IT COULD NOT BE CONTAINED


 I CRIED OUT

WHERE ARE YOU GOD


 THEN ONE FALL DAY

BY A LITTLE BROOK

WITH BUT THE SUN TO WARM ME

A BIT OF A BREEZE SPUN SOME LEAVES


SAID

HERE


 


 


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