Saturday, August 11, 2012

Church For Miscreants

The fear of the Lord is to hate evil: pride, and arrogancy, and the evil way, and the froward mouth (Proverbs 8:13)

I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel. (Alan Ginsberg)

There is a church for miscreants.
A gatherer for dandelion seeds.

There is a kiss for those who have not been kissed enough.
There is a place, protected, for solitude.

I have dipped words in honey butter.
Each day I speak the names of those I love, who have gone.

Each creature exists for its own purposes.
Neither lion nor leghorn for ceremony cares.

Even a small pond holds secrets, icing over in winter;
In summer, the close shore, the grasses, the reeds.

There is a church for Gypsies and wanderers.
A gatherer for dandelion seeds.

for A Word With Laurie: "miscreant"


Laurie Kolp said...

I love this, Shay. I especially like:

I have dipped words in honey butter


Even a small pond holds secrets, icing over in winter;
In summer, the close shore, the grasses, the reeds

Helen said...

How can anything you write ever top this .... I'm gob-smacked!!

hedgewitch said...

Not just beautiful but intelligent--that is possibly one of the core things that amazes about your work--that it is so immediately understandable on a cellular level, yet it has within it things that take true application and thought to see, though then they are beautifully obvious--sort of like the wind blowing the hair away from a woman's face--you knew she was beautiful by the way she moved, but it's even more so when you see it.
Sorry to use 'beautiful' so many times, but this poem defines it.

Anonymous said...

"There is a kiss for those who have not been kissed enough." ... This is powerful.

"There is a place, protected, for solitude." ... Tell me where, for crying out loud. I can't find it to save my life.

"Each creature exists for its own purposes." ... Yeah. Sounds good in poetry, but trying applying that. (Talking to myself; ignore me.)

"Neither lion nor leghorn for ceremony cares." ... Awesome.

"Even a small pond holds secrets, icing over in winter;
In summer, the close shore, the grasses, the reeds." ... The first line is beautiful, but the second is my favorite. I love that you don't really say anything about the close shore, etc. There's no verb; there's no "what" about the shore, the grasses, the reeds. But one possibility is that all things come back to life; there are quiet seasons and there are expressive seasons. There's so much meaning to be found in this little couplet.

And all of it, really. I agree with Hedge. You have a gift for writing in a very understandable way. Anyone could read your poems and make quick sense of them. But a deep thinker could spend hours mulling over just one piece digging out all the frozen secrets.

Anonymous said...

P.S. "Jesus was a capricorn" is a hilarious tag. You cracked me up with that one. :) And here's how dumb I am:

It just now occurred to me that you're referring to his pretend December 25th birthday. I thought you were guessing his sign based on his character. If anyone was a wild gypsy, it was Jesus. He would hate our churches and be totally pissed off. He'd probably be out preaching to the dandelions. They're better listeners. And when the sermon's over, they scatter the message to the winds.

Fireblossom said...

Flipside--I stole "Jesus was a Capricorn" from Kris Kristofferson, who wrote a song by that title, which says pretty much exactly what you're saying. And I also did it cos I am well familiar with Cappy goats, and knew at least one who would be happening by. :-)

Susan said...

Just thank you for this wisdom (which must be encoded oftener and oftener to disarm know-it-alls and cause some of us to look again at Jesus).

"Troubles and trials often betray those
On in the weary body to stray
But we shall walk beside the still waters
With the Good Shepherd leading The Way"

Far Beyond The Ridge said...

And could i sing, surely i would be found in their choir.
Judgement doesn't even bother come in.
This rocked my gypsy soul in lullabye style

Anonymous said...

This is just wonderful! I so want to join that church.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I love the reflective tone of this poem, and the way it comes full circle at the end. So lovely. It gives the reader comfort to know there is a place for us all, somewhere.

Kerry O'Connor said...

I love how these couplets read as Proverbs - though rather more reminiscent of Blake's than the Bible.

I went back to pick a favourite to paste here, but really, I love them all.

Your pic of the dewy dandelion makes me swoon. How beauteous is that?

Anonymous said...

I love Cappy goats. They are crazy and wild, and they are way too headstrong. But you just can't help loving them to pieces. :)

Mama Zen said...

I love this.

Mystic_Mom said...

That is my kind of church girl! I LOVE this! So well done, as usual, and with a twist that delights.

Anonymous said...

Wow I really like this. It's like a wise woman's mumblings. Everyone is still trying to catch bits of her wisdom as she goes about her work, gathering seeds.

Kay L. Davies said...

I'm speechless, Shay. This poem is perfect.

Margaret said...

I'm not sure I would say (this is my opinion :) that Jesus would hate our churches... I just think he has room in his heart for us all. Yes, even Gypsies. :)

Anonymous said...

DIVINE! from title to the last line!

Susie Clevenger said...

Each word is so beautiful. I once wore my self righteous thankful to have removed it.