P o e t r y

A Warm-Up poem for the 2009 Poetry Workshop

THE SECOND COMING

 

by William Butler Yeats

 

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

 

 

And now for a little discussion: What the heck does this poem mean? Hit the comment section below!

 

The 2009 Fall Poetry Workshop is coming!!!

Hey everyone... we're gearing up for another great poetry workshop this fall. David Harrity is back with us, and we'll be discussing poetry and its collision with the visionary and prophetic. Here are the details:

A Movement Into Mystery: Visionaries and Prophets

Part 3 of the Pastoral Imagination and Poetry Series w/ David Harrity

Mondays in October (5, 12, 19, 26) 6PM-8PM in AD303

There should be snacks (bonus!), and feel free to bring in your own work; we usually workshop our own poetry each week.

Contact the chapel office or email me ([email protected]) for more info

Wounded

by Scot Hoeksema


Clouds hung low that July night
But the air was more like late September.
The drone of crickets provided the backdrop
For all the other sounds of the neighborhood.
Windows had been opened to let in the coolness,
Breathing out the heat of the day
And the sounds meant to be secret.
The crying slowly separated itself from the more familiar noises,
The sobbing struggling to be known.
And so I stopped to listen.
Some cries need intervention, others just need to be heard.

The unseen girl tried to defend herself
With an explosive retort of “bull!”
But this denial, this flimsy shield
Did not stop the words of her attacker.
Twice more she tried to protect herself,
But the monosyllable had no more effect
The second and third times as it had the first.
Summoning all the strength that remained
She released her final defense,
Pleading with the one who brought so much pain,
“I
    am
          a good girl.”
The work of the other was finished.
The sobbing slowly ebbed, and the crickets once more dominated the air.

“I am a good girl.”
What was it about those words that scratched at my heart.
“I am a good girl.”
Like a key in a lock long unopened,
Those words turned, but did not release the memory
Shut away for ever so long.
“I am a good girl.”
Were these the echoes of another child’s words?
Another child in the darkness, pleading, seeking understanding
Not knowing why.
Another child still waiting in the darkness,
Wanting to be heard over the noise of the crickets.



I am…,
Yo soy…,
Ik ben…,
Je suis…,
Wŏ shr…,
How many other children cry out in the night
And with how many tongues?
Does anyone hear their sobs
Or do they sink beneath the crickets’ drone?
Does the one who calls himself I AM, hear their I am?

Welcome Back!!

Hey ATS Students! We're back at school, and here in the Asbury Poetry world, we're cooking up some new things for the fall. Our theme over at the Asbury Reader for this semester is "Already! Not Yet?". As we look at the Kingdom of God and how it has/is coming, we can't help but notice that the Scriptures are loaded with metaphor to help us grasp this paradox of faith.

Cue the poetic...

This semester, we're looking for poems that help us clue into this kind of paradox. We welcome writings from all of the ATS family (alumni, friends, families, faculty and students), both personal and found poems, for submission. Send them in...we'd love to publish them.

Stay tuned for more information about events coming this fall, including the workshop that is being solidified even as we speak.

Blessings, and welcome again!

It Happened Like This

by James Tate

It Happens Like This

I was outside St. Cecelia's Rectory
smoking a cigarette when a goat appeared beside me.
It was mostly black and white, with a little reddish
brown here and there. When I started to walk away,
it followed. I was amused and delighted, but wondered
what the laws were on this kind of thing. There's
a leash law for dogs, but what about goats? People
smiled at me and admired the goat. "It's not my goat,"
I explained. "It's the town's goat. I'm just taking
my turn caring for it." "I didn't know we had a goat,"
one of them said. "I wonder when my turn is." "Soon,"
I said. "Be patient. Your time is coming." The goat
stayed by my side. It stopped when I stopped. It looked
up at me and I stared into its eyes. I felt he knew
everything essential about me. We walked on. A police-
man on his beat looked us over. "That's a mighty
fine goat you got there," he said, stopping to admire.
"It's the town's goat," I said. "His family goes back
three-hundred years with us," I said, "from the beginning."
The officer leaned forward to touch him, then stopped
and looked up at me. "Mind if I pat him?" he asked.
"Touching this goat will change your life," I said.
"It's your decision." He thought real hard for a minute,
and then stood up and said, "What's his name?" "He's
called the Prince of Peace," I said. "God! This town
is like a fairy tale. Everywhere you turn there's mystery
and wonder. And I'm just a child playing cops and robbers
forever. Please forgive me if I cry." "We forgive you,
Officer," I said. "And we understand why you, more than
anybody, should never touch the Prince." The goat and
I walked on. It was getting dark and we were beginning
to wonder where we would spend the night.

All You Can Eat

by JD Walt

ALL YOU CAN EAT.

true preaching reveals the place where Word and Spirit meet
affording an encounter with Divine Realities
eyes seeing the story
ears hearing the Kingdom
mind comprehending Mind
pen scratchings cannot capture it
paper cannot possibly map the course of God-Words
recordings can't remember the Living Voice
like storing water water in cupped hands
Spirit musings never fit into an mp3

so put down your pencil
and lift up your heart,
don't get the tape
Lean forward.
Listen Now!
and realize
the stream of heaven
is not download-able
not for canteens
immediate consumption required
open bar,
all you can eat buffet.

Fall Renovations

Hey you readers out there--

We're working on some new renovations for the fall; new ideas, new themes, and hopefully some new poetry from people at ATS. If you have ideas for the fall, post them for us. We're always looking for ways to incorporate people and keep growing.

Thanks!
drew

Malcolm Guite: the Church with Poetry Enshrined at the Heart

There's a really interesting article here with an interview with Malcolm Guite, a priest/poet/songwriter in Cambridge . There's a transcript excerpt as well as the podcast audio of the interview. Here's an excerpt:

At the very heart of gospel as I understand it…is transfiguration. By which I mean not that we get out of the place we’re in…at what may be a very broken and disfigured situation. But that if you look at something clearly enough, open enough to the Spirit, sometimes the very thing you’re seeing -- while not ceasing to be itself -- is transfigured.

George Herbert again was the one who wrote those words, “A man that looks on glass, on it may stay his eye, Or if he pleaseth, through it pass, and then the heav'n espy.”

And Herbert also wrote about windows. He wrote a poem called “The Windows” in which he redeems the word “stain.” He doesn’t use the word, he just redeems it. Because if you think about the word “stain,” it always means something negative, except in one context. There’s only one context in which it has no negative connotations, it’s completely redeemed, and that’s stained glass.

And he wrote a poem about being a preacher, you might say being a leader as well. This is kind of a core vision...It starts, “Lord, how can man preach thy eternall word? He is a brittle, crazie glasse: Yet in thy temple, thou dost him afford this glorious and transcendent place, to be a window, through thy grace.”

 

An Anonomyus Poem from Iran

(taken from here. the video is the reading by the author.)

Friday the 19th of June, 2009
Tomorrow, Saturday
Tomorrow is a day of destiny
Tonight the cries of Allah-o Akhbar
Are heard louder and louder than the nights before

Where is this place?
Where is this place where every door is closed?
Where is this place where people are simply calling God?
Where is this place where the sound of Allah-o Akhbar gets louder and louder?
I wait every night to see if the sounds will get louder and whether the number increases
It shakes me
I wonder if God is shaken

Where is this place where so many innocent people are entrapped?
Where is this place where no one comes to our aid?
Where is this place where only with our silence we are sending our voices to the world?
Where is this place where the young shed blood and then people go and pray?
Standing on that same blood and pray?

Where is this place where the citizens are called vagrants?
Where is this place? You want me to tell you?
This place is Iran
The homeland of you and me
This place is Iran

TIOC: "The Royal Way of The Cross", sections 1-2

(taken from Thomas a Kempis' The Imitation of Christ as paraphrased by Donald Demaray)

1. The following strikes many as a hard assignment:
        "Deny yourself;
        Take up your cross;
        Follow Jesus." (Matthew 16:24)
    How much harder this saying:
        "Depart from me, you cursed one;
        Depart to eternal fire!" (Matthew 25:41)
    That message comes across loud and clear:
        Crossbearers in this life
                avoid eternal damnation in the next life.
    Heaven will reveal the sign of the cross
         when the Judge comes.
    All servants conformed  to Christ crucified
                during their time on earth;
        will come near to Christ the Judge
                with grand confidence.

2. Why then do you fear taking up the cross
            that leads to the Kingdom?
    In the cross you find
            Salvation,
            Life,
            Protection against your enemies,
            Heaven's delicious fulfillment,
            Strength of mind,
            Joy in your spirit,
            The highest level of truth,
            Holy living come full circle.
    Only in the cross do you have
            healing for the whole person,
            hope for eternal life.
    Therefore,
            Take up your cross,
            Follow Jesus,
            Guarantee yourself life everlasting.
    Jesus shouldered His cross and died for you on that cross
            so you could carry your own cross
                and be willing to die on that cross for Him.
    Listen, then, to the Good News:
            Die with Him so that you will live with Him;
            Be His companion in punishment
                so you will share His honor.