Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Routine

Just a couple thoughts.

1. Am I trying to be God's "teacher's pet"? Is that how my mind views justification by works so that it seems less wrong and more acceptable and accessible? Just wondering. I listened to a sermon from my church in Boston and the pastor talked about being teacher's pet and something about that phrase struck me and stuck with me. And that question came to my mind. Am I trying to be God's "teacher's pet"?

2. I almost started reading an article about privacy steps on Facebook. It was something about Google and Facebook and the information Google is logging about your Facebook, blahdy blah. Like I said, I almost started reading it. I read a little abstract and got really sucked into that and just as I was about to click the link to the full article, I stopped. I thought "do I really care that much?" And yes, I agree that internet safety and discretion is incredibly important. But I think I started to click the article because I somehow thought it was a very important matter of great delicacy and urgency, because the abstract was written that way ... like those teasers on evening news: "The most common cause of death ... and it's in your refrigerator!" You know? And then you wait and wait and wait to find out in what form death is lurking in your refrigerator so you can show it to the door, only to learn it's something about mold ... I know Facebook is public. It's on the internet. I know this blog is public. It's on the internet. I'm just saying, if you don't want the whole world to know about something about you ... don't put it on the internet. I have nothing to hide on my Facebook page. At least, I don't think I do. So go ahead Google, file away. I'd be honored if you thought my information was important enough to be logged and stored, but I don't necessarily think it is.

Routine
Arthur Guiterman

No matter what we are and who,
Some duties everyone must do:

A Poet puts aside his wreath
To wash his face and brush his teeth

And even Earls
Must comb their curls,

And even Kings
Have underthings.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Morning Person

I bought a book of poetry recently, inspired by a poem my pastor read during church a couple weeks back. I always intend to read poetry and memorize it and become one of those deeply artistic people. But honestly, poetry rarely speaks to me when I seek it like that. Normally the surface level poems appeal to me most, but that's fine. So I've been going through this book of poetry and a few poems have struck me. So I'm going to share one today. Enjoy!

Morning Person
Vassar Miller

God, best at making in the morning, tossed
stars and planets, singing and dancing, rolled
Saturn's rings spinning and humming, twirled the earth
so hard it coughed and spat the moon up, brilliant
bubble floating around it for good, stretched holy
hands till birds in nervous sparks flew forth from
them and beasts--lizards, big and little, apes,
lions, elephants, dogs and cats cavorting,
tumbling over themselves, dizzy with joy when
God made us in the morning too, both man
and woman, leaving Adam no time for
sleep so nimbly was Eve bouncing out of
his side till as night came everything and
everybody, growing tired, declined, sat
down in one soft descended Hallelujah.