Zeitgeist (For Trayvon)
Some days I feel like we’ve come a long way
Other days I feel there’s nothing good to say
Like the more things change… and a lot of old clichés
That I can’t bear to finish ’cause I want a brand new day
That my generation keeps declaring is on the way
But this feels more like the first time I heard “The Predator”
Right after the Riots in LA
So where’s the next Ice Cube to help us cool the tensions?
To help expose the falsehoods that we see on television
Instead the Faux news is pushing stories about suspensions
Like some pot residue makes a black kid worthy of a lynchin’
“This was Brown on Black Crime” Like it makes a difference
When the whole world’s forced to look thru white male vision
The mindset of inequality is nearly all that anyone can envision
~wwb
long way home
i am dorothy waking up in kansas
i have lost all sense of place
i have seen the ugly and the beautiful
i’ve seen another life in your face
you were there and you were there
you had brawn and brains and grace
you gave me a sense of coming home again
the first time i saw your face
but
we’ve never really been here before
we’re taking the long way home tonight
we’d have to take another dozen detours
to show you where i’ve been in life
they did to me what they did to you
they did it in many different ways
they did it on 37 and fawn ave.
to remind me of my lowly place
they reminded me on main street
the threw rocks on bender road
they pulled a gun at crystal gas
now flash forward to our home
i was beaten down and defeated
though they barely left a mark
you’ve got my heart but i’ve got this fear
they’re waiting in the dark
Kinkade’s Cabin Door or the Potato Eaters Table?
The Son of God does not come to free us
Not from the physicality of this world – broken!
Broken as it may be
Instead he steps through the proverbial door
between Heaven and earth
And he remains
He remains permanently bound up with the stuff of creation
Permanently bound up with you and I
For the sake of this world’s transformation
For your sake and for mine
We paint pictures of heaven that look
Like we’ve commissioned Thomas Kinkade
The lighting is always soft
Like a partially cloudy spring day
The sun’s beams break through
Never overpowering, never dark
Winter, spring, summer or fall
There’s always a sense of warmth
The change of seasons –
If there is any change in seasons – is gentle
We imagine salvation
Like Kinkade paints a cottage or cabin
Nestled in-between lush wooded areas and flowing streams
Pleasure and leisure not shelter from the storm
As if our true life begins beyond the cabin door
But the salvation declared in this book
Conferred upon us by this Spirit
Nurtured in us at this table
It looks more like an early van Gogh
“The Potato Eaters.”
“The Potato Eaters” gather -Together
By single light of burning lamp
Dirty, tired, hungry
Energy has been spent
Spent on a day plowing the field
A day working for their food
The light is dim
Faces are dirty coarse and dark
But we should make no mistake
This is what we were created to do
Before God said this ground is cursed
God instructed till this ground
Before God pronounced tension between she and he
God said he should not be alone
Before God said they will labor by the sweat of their brow
God said the seed bearing plants and herbs are here for you
It is into this world of dirt and sweat
Spit and blood
Bodies and food that Jesus comes
And he does not come to free us
He does not come to take us away
Away from the tables at which we gather
But rather in his stay
He is poured out
He is poured out for our sake
Not to become a bridge to another world
But to be the food and drink that sustains
The food and drink that transforms this life
The life of the world to come
The life that begins today
——————————————————-
I presented this piece before the Reformed Church of America, Classis of Holland of Holland MI on May 24, 2011. It was was prepared and read aloud as part of my oral exam on the sacraments.
winsome
as i stand in the winds of change
and everything stays the same
i’m estrange from all i ever knew
i guess i grew apart from me
or maybe i just grew
i never knew
anyone could fall so deep
fell asleep about a year ago
i woke up last night
love was nowhere in sight
thought hatred would see me
to my burial sight
as we creep along these city streets
never feeling right
knowing something’s missing
wishing we could let it go
but none of us know
what it is that’s tearing us
so deep
leaving life to seem so bleak
stuck again in the same place
where we’ve been a million times
a million poets
composed a million rhymes
to try to find
meaning to it all
before we fall
victim to mortality’s sting
but death where’s the victory
you swore you’d bring
another day’s come
and you’re still not king
you may reign free
over souls out of control
with lust and greed
your worst nightmare
is a world set free to see
indeed sown seed
in the garden
where golden hearts harden
but are freed and unbound
by the one that pardons
and new fruit grows
always around the margins
~wwb
I Came by Night
I came by night to meet him
I came by night to say
surely God is with you
there could be no other way
I came by night to meet him
I came at end of day
he greeted compliments with riddles
before I was on my way
I came by night with questions
by the time I came away
I had only more questions
about all he had to say
how can a man be born again?
can there be no other way?
what kind of kingdom is this
that he speaks of anyway?
He spoke of Moses in the desert
now dare I look away?
don’t know how he’ll be lifted up
but know I’ve poison in my veins
I came by night to meet him
I feel like he came to me
Am I my peoples’ teacher?
Then why is it that I can’t see?
~wwb
