Alternating anapestic tetrameter and trimeter
If your Lord loves a thing unto which you incline
In the hope that the Lord will be pleased,
Then His pleasure with you is a promise divine
With no part of it ever decreased.
But if He is displeased with a thing you adore,
And it grieves you that He is displeased,
It may please Him to see you get down on the floor
To take stock of a heart that's diseased.
With a heart that is flushed and abluted with tears,
Let the earth take your brow and your knees,
And when grief, like the dew in the sun, disappears,
Do get up and get on with it, please.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Mercy Sniffles
It's hard to see you cough and sneeze,
All curled up in a ball;
To toss and turn at every wheeze
Is just no good at all.
You miss your healthy self before
The coming of those germs,
But you know even germs must live
Their predetermined terms.
The cloud upon your face declares
The falling of a tear,
But hold your head up high for there's
A silver lining here;
It's true, the Messenger has said
The Lord is with the ill,
So come prepare the finest spread
To host Him and His will.
Begin with appetizer chants
Of His Majestic Name,
And line your plush repentance with
The cushions of your shame,
To pour into the goblet of
Your heart the Word of Light,
The more the pleasure of your guest
The more that you recite.
And then your Guest will sup upon
Your supplication fine,
Choose every word with care as you
Beseech your Guest Divine.
For everything you ask him for
Is granted you, or stored
For you to be united with
The day you meet your Lord.
Remember, child, that you are in
A state, supreme and pure;
So pray for much, but do begin
By asking for a cure.
All curled up in a ball;
To toss and turn at every wheeze
Is just no good at all.
You miss your healthy self before
The coming of those germs,
But you know even germs must live
Their predetermined terms.
The cloud upon your face declares
The falling of a tear,
But hold your head up high for there's
A silver lining here;
It's true, the Messenger has said
The Lord is with the ill,
So come prepare the finest spread
To host Him and His will.
Begin with appetizer chants
Of His Majestic Name,
And line your plush repentance with
The cushions of your shame,
To pour into the goblet of
Your heart the Word of Light,
The more the pleasure of your guest
The more that you recite.
And then your Guest will sup upon
Your supplication fine,
Choose every word with care as you
Beseech your Guest Divine.
For everything you ask him for
Is granted you, or stored
For you to be united with
The day you meet your Lord.
Remember, child, that you are in
A state, supreme and pure;
So pray for much, but do begin
By asking for a cure.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Published in The Society of Classical Poets 2013 Annual Journal
Children of the Year
Jameel and Jameelah
On Cancer, Guns and Hit 'n Runs
The Ever Rising Tide
This is a real honor for me considering only forty poets were selected from over 600 participants, and the journal has about seventy-five poems in it. Very heartening for me and my work.
Thanks to Evan Mantyk for his consideration, and for his zeal in keeping the tradition of classical English poetry alive and thriving.
-KM
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