His Voice

My friend Jason is hosting "Warrior Poet Circle" today. The theme is "Voice of God."    It seems strange to be to join, like I'm hoarding in on a party I don't belong at, since I feel like neither a warrior or a poet.  Yet we are are told to dress ourselves as warriors and be prepared,  and I can't remember when I didn't love reading poetry (at least if you count Nursery Rhymes).  I was in second grade the first time I tried to write a poem.  It was awful!  My teacher liked it though.  Having been a second grade teacher myself,  I know why she liked it.  She liked it because she liked me.

So anyway, here we are with a short poem.


Softly whispered comfort as I try to hang on to things that slip away.
Gentle commands to guide me through the labyrinths in which I find myself trapped.
Silent lullabies sung to my weary soul.
Is that really Him?
Wouldn't the voice Inifinity boom?
No.  Not when speaking to one He calls "Daughter."

My Prayer Today

My friend Jason hosts "Warrior Poet Circle" every other Monday.
I'm not sure which seems more convoluted, thinking of myself as a warrior or a poet, so though I admire both warriors and poets, I seldom participate.    Today, however, the "assignment" is to write a prayer.   That didn't seem so hard.  I think I pray every day.   So here it is.   Not quite warrior like, not quite poetry.   It is just my prayer today.

My Prayer Today


Thank you, Lord for loving me.
I often question why you do
When I myself would wipe me off my shoe if I could
I understand that Your Son washed me and dressed me in wedding clothes
But look at me!
I have gravy on my dress, my hair is a mess from dancing and my hands are sticky again!
If I could only stay clean and lovely
I'd understand that You love what He made me to become...
But how is it you can love me?
Because you made me in your image?
You mean I haven't rubbed that out?
I couldn't possibly rub that out?
Where is your image in me?
WHERE?
I DON'T SEE IT!
What?
The ability to love?
Then help me to love more greatly and more purely.
Help me to love even those unlovely
like me...
Then draw us together close to You

Ode to Cheetoes

My friend Duane Scott is having a Cheetos Poem Competition. Yep. I've decided to take part, even though I haven't had Cheetos since I've been to Subway about three months ago....

C-H-E-E-T-O

C - is for the comfort they give me when I'm feel down

H - is for hips they extend so that I wear pants that fit like a clown's

E- is for the excellent sound of the crunch

E- is for ecstasy, I like them a bunch!

T- is for the taste I hope lingers

O- is for the orange color of my fingers

It takes a lot of Cheetos to get an orange kitten! (Thanks Photobucket)

Yummy in My Tummy

a Haiku by Helenatrandom

Cheetos going crunch

so yummy in my tummy

wiping hands on coat

Ode to Cheetos

a Cinquain by Helenatrandom

Cheetos

orange food

tasting, licking, crunching

happy, full, satisfied, messy

sustenance

What Cheetos are Made of

a Tanka by Helenatrandom

Sunshine with a crunch

A flamanco dancers zest

Kissed with angel lips

add a dash of baby smiles

and a lot of calories

You can find my new blog about Lent here.

I haven't decided what I'll give up for Lent, but I probably don't eat enough Cheetoes to give them up for Lent anyways. :-( Must eat more Cheetoes by next year.... Okay. Not really.

Abundance From Little

My friend Jason is hosting a sort of poetry circle today.  I'm not much of a poet, though I do enjoy reading poetry.   Today's inspiration is Jesus feeding the 5,000.  I love that story.   I love how he took so little, and made it more than enough.   The Word of God transforms what is meager to plentiful!
I'm not sure that by making it a conversation, I am following the format correctly, but the following poem is supposed to be a Tanka.  Tanka is a Japanese poetry type of five lines, the first and third composed of five syllables and the rest of seven. Tanka is the oldest type of poetry in Japan. 

Abundance from Little

by HRM

"The people need food"

"Share with them what you have brought"

"But it's not enough for all"

"First place it into my hands

where it will become a feast"

Click here to see Jason's awesome poem "God Shows Up" and some links to other incredibly awesome poems about Jesus feeding 5000 people!

He's Home

Reunited With Windows

home again
where there are lots of windows
to let in the daylight
and the warm light of God's presence in the our dark corners after dusk
rather than cold fluorescent bulbs.


Bob is home and taking medication.  He seems as fine as ever, though we don't know for sure what started this.    Thank you for your prayers.


My poetry leaves A LOT to be desired, but right now I have my heart's desire:  my husband is well and at home.

WIthout Windows

Without Windows

grey walls
white cabinets
blue curtains
the e.r. looks the same
whether 9 a.m.
or 9 p.m.
i like to know
when daylight arrives



Hubs is in the hospital with a rash, low blood pressure, and vomiting.  I've come home to put on clothes.  No, I wasn't nekkid.  I accompanied him in my jammies (Okay, I was wearing a muumuu).  There will be no update until visiting hours are over...


Sorry.  No pleasantly disturbed post or linkage today.  

I Am the Wind

When I was in High School, this was my favorite poem. In fact, I think it still is at this moment...



"I AM THE WIND"
by Zoe Akins

I am the wind that wavers,
You are the certain land;
I am the shadow that passes
Over the sand.

I am the leaf that quivers,
You the unshaken tree;
You are the stars that are steadfast,
I am the sea.

You are the light eternal,
Like a torch I shall die...
You are the surge of deep music,
I - but a cry!