Rev Dr Sparky on Real/igion

Tag: Poetry

  • Longest Summer Day

    Photo by Noah Herrera on Pixabay “be home when the streetlamps come on…” You can live the longest summer day; and finally, finally, past its brightest, white-hot crest, a twilight will commence. And you, the running, smallest one, with half-healed knees and tough, bare, dusty toes, and bruise on shin or shoulder, and slightly sunburned nose, you’ll…

  • Through the Portal

    Photo by Joshua Rondeau on Unsplash reluctant poetry It’s just another magic place to go, like pocket parks or winter forest clearings,where you can stop deciding who to be, or why;and ease your iron shoulders of their weight: So I am not afraid to get away from hereinto the vasty deep that beckons there, alight with wisdom,…

  • For the Church Ladies Who Always Bring a Covered Dish

    Photo by Gor Davtyan on Unsplash reluctant poetry What outrageous ecstasyis locked behind those silent lips? Still hands don’t clap or lift,but merely tremble in the Presence,weary from the work. Straight-backed supplicants,while rapt, do not cry out;and sometimes they may sing or smilebut do not keen or shout. And is this truly worship,bound so quiet and…

  • From My 40 to Your 14

    Photo by Ian Keefe on Unsplash reluctant poem for my daughter We are both fourteen, and alsogoing-on-forty-or-more:Both of woman-mind and soul,yet nested still in girls’ wild ways. At fourteen, life is awful promise; nothing certainnothing known.But still she is/we are the sumof all, for best or worse.With womankind, it’s hard to tellthe promise from the curse. At fourteen,…

  • Named After God

    Photo by Becca Tapert on Unsplash reluctant poetry Tell me now, again, what God’s name is: When prayer wields words like fiery phallic swords; When we must worship towers of bishops,casting out heretics, burning witches; When Eve our mother bears the blame for sin and pain,though bearing all in birth, and bearing all to Adam,just a mudman…

  • Waiting Around with John Milton

    Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash Could be paradise up ahead Sometimes, if you’re feeling uncertain and sort of irrelevant, an old, dead, white-guy poem is just the thing you need to read. I mean that in the nicest way, too. I do love a great variety of humanity, but I am essentially an archaic, white, middlebrow…

  • Welcome to the Ward

    Photo by Jens Lindner on Unsplash The poetry of things heard there “We think you may be violet, aderanger to your self anothers:Did you know that’s why you’re hear?Do you recall? “And so you’ve been a-mittenedfor a seventy-twoour hole;“And I’m to get you saddled, andbe sure you know the ruse. Have youany quests so far?All write, then,…