| HERONS
HERONS ARE AN AMBIGUOUS BIRD FISHING FLYING A THING OF BEAUTY BUT THEN THEY NEST IN TREES THEY ROOST IN TREES A DESIGN FLAW THERE THEY APPEAR AWKWARD OUT OF PLACE BUT THEY DON’T CARE HOW UNGAINLY THEY LOOK THEY’RE FOLLOWING A CODE IMPLANTED AT CONCEPTION REPRODUCTION MIGRATION FISHING SKILLS GOD SAYS I HAVE WRITTEN MY CODE IN YOUR HEARTS WHY DO YOU FEIGN IGNORANCE OF MY LAW OF PROPER HUMAN BEHAVIOR WHY ARE YOU EMBARRASSED BY ME I SAID UNLESS YOU TAKE UP YOUR CROSS UNLESS YOU ARE WILLING TO BE TREATED LIKE A COMMON CRIMINAL YOU WILL HAVE NO PART OF ME WE WOULD DO WELL TO LEARN A LESSON FROM THE HERONS FRANK A VOLLMER for more poetry see |
poetry
A DISCREPANCY.doc
poetry| A DISCREPANCY
BILLIONS FOR BANKS PITTANCE FOR THE POOR INFIRM OR ELDERLY BUT BILLIONS FOR BANKS THIS IN A NATION THAT VAUNTS ITSELF AS FOLLOWING A JUDEO-CHRISTIAN TRADITION A TRADITION WHERE GOD SAYS I AM FATHER OF THE POOR THE HOMELESS THE STRANGER IN YOUR MIDST I AM WITH THE HUNGRY CHILD THOSE CHEATED OUT OF GOD’S PROMISE I DO NOT SEE EQUALITY IN MY PEOPLE BUT PRIMACY OF PLACE I SEE RICHES AT THE TABLE BUT LEAVINGS FOR LAZARUS for more poetry see |
A CHILD IS BORN.doc
poetry| A CHILD IS BORN
ALL THE WORLD IN SILENCE LAY OR AT LEAST IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN BUT BUSY BETHLEHEM THOUGH IT WOULD EVER RUE THE DAY GAVE NO THOUGHT TO HIM THE TOWN WAS FULL WITH ROOMS AVAILABLE AT A PRICE THAT JOSEPH COULDN’T PAY THROUGH THE MANY STREETS HE WENT LOOKING FOR A PLACE TO STAY NO PLACE — NO PLACE WITH MANY A SLAMMING DOOR NO PLACE ~- NO PLACE TILL HE COULD STAND IT NO MORE TILL HE DOUBLED UP HIS F1ST IN ANGER TILL HE FELT A GREAT AND SURGING ANGER A NUMBING HOLLOW FEELING WHOSE NAME HE DID NOT KNOW TILL MARY SPOKE HIS NAME THEN THE ANGER FLED LIKE SUMMER CLOUDS AFTER RAIN HE TOOK THE DONKEY’S BRIDLE TO SEEK A PLACE OUTSIDE OF TOWN THEY CAME UPON A FARMER’S WIFE WHO LISTENING TO THEIR PLEA MOVED AN OX OUT OF ITS STALL AND WELCOMED COMPANY BUT JOSEPH SHE QUICKLY PUT OUTSIDE TO BUILD A FIRE AND WATER BOIL WHILE THE GOOD MIDWIFE WENT BACK INSIDE TO WAIT AWHILE . THE COLD MOON’S RAYS WERE SILVER NOW THE HOOTING OWL, A FUNNY CALL THE GOOD MIDWIFE WITH BUSTLING PRIDE ANNOUNCED TO EACH AND ALL A CHILD IS BORN TO EACH AND ALL, WHICH REALLY MEANT ONE OX, ONE ASS, THE FAMILY SHEEP A GROUP OF DOVES WHO RAFTER DWELT; TO MARY, CERTAINLY, WHERE SHE LAY– CONTENT THAT NOW HIS TIME HAD COME, AND TO JOSEPH ON HIS WAY TO FETCH A PAIL OF WATER THE LIGHTNING FLASHED, FOR ONE BRIGHT MOMENT A JACOB’S LADDER TO THE SKY THEN ALL WAS STILL SO VERY STILL THAT JOSEPH HEARD THE ANGELS’ SING SHEPHERDS CAME WISEMEN TOO EACH ONE BROUGHT HIS GIFT FROM SOME CAME GOLD, FROM OTHERS MYRRH FROM OTHERS FRANKINCENSE SOME CAME WITH HEARTS OF LOVE OVERFLOWING FROM MOST OF US CAME NOTHING WE WERE TOO BUSY BACK IN BETHLEHEM BUT GOD HAD COME TO CLAIM HIS OWN A MANGER WAS HIS THRONE FOR ROYAL GARMENTS: BABY CLOTHES HIS RETINUE AN OX AND ASS HIS COUNCILOR A CARPENTER FOR FRIENDS–SO VERY FEW SO MANY OF THEM MISSING WHERE WERE YOU? FRANK A VOLLMER for more poetry see |
GENIE.doc
poetry| GENIE
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TOIL.doc
poetry| TOIL
From the Book of Common Prayer O God, your unfailing providence sustains the world we live in and the life We live: Watch over those, both night and day, who work while others sleep, And grant that we may never forget that our common life depends upon each other’s toil; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. I AM REMINDED OF A WOMAN ON A RETREAT WHO SAID I’M GOING AWAY FOR A WHOLE YEAR TO DISCOVER MYSELF BESIDE HER WAS A WOMEN A MOTHER OF THREE SMALL CHILDREN WHO WAS THANKFUL FOR THE FREE TIME ALONE I’M REMINDED THAT OFTEN THE MARYS NEED A MARTHA TO SUSTAIN THEM I WAS IN A RESTAURANT ENJOYING MY SABBATH REST WAITED ON BY A LATINO PROBABLY UNDERPAID MAYBE TWO JOBS HIS SPIRITUAL LIFE WAS PROBABLY JESUS HELP ME MAKE IT THOUGH THE DAY THE SPIRITUAL LIFE FOR MOST OF US IS NOT NEAT AND PRETTY BUT CATCH AS CATCH CAN JESUS REMEMBER ME WHEN I CANNOT REMEMBER YOU HELP US LORD TO REMEMBER OUR TOIL HAS WORTH DIGNITY WE ARE THE NECESSARY LEAVEN WITHOUT WHICH NOTHING WE ARE THE BASKET OF FOOD LIFTED TO THE TOWER WHERE THE MONK PRAYS FOR US ALL FRANK A VOLLMER for more poetry see |
THOUGHTS.doc
poetry| THOUGHTS
BLACK WATER SWIRLS AROUND THE PIER GULLS FLY SEEKING REFUGE BUSY LIGHTS DOT THE HARBOR A TIRED FISHING BOAT COMES CHUGGING IN ///////////////////////////////////// DUSK AND THE SHEPHERD CALLS HIS FLOCK FROM THE HILL THE SHEEP HEAR AND HEED IT THEY MOVE NOT ONE STANDS STILL THE HILLSIDE ONCE PICTURE QUIET SUDDENLY BREAKS INTO MOTION AS THEY COME DOWN OR OVER THE HILL FORWARD SURGING LIKE THE OCEAN THEM LAST FEW COME DOWN THE HILL THOSE WHO DID THE FURTHEST ROAM BUT THE SHEPHERD HAS CALLED THEM THEY HAVE COME HOME /////////////////////////////////////////////// HOW CAN IT BE DESCRIBED THE SONG OF A BIRD ON A HILLTOP THAT’S COVERED WITH MIST AN ANGEL’S SONG THAT THE MEMORY KEEPS AND SINGS FOREVER IN THE HEART ////////////////////////////////////////// I CANNOT GO TO SLEEP I HAVEN’T HEARD MY LULLABY NO CAROLER HAS SUNG TO ME NOR HAVE THE TREES SAID ANYTHING I GO TO THE WINDOW WATCH THE MOON COME DOWN THROUGH TATTERED CLOUDS THE WIND RUNS RANDOM FINGERS ON THE KEYS I AM SLEEPY EYED //////////////////////////////////////////// SEE THE MOUSE STRUT BOLDLY ON THE STAGE NEVER A MORE DASHING ROMEO THAN HE ESPECIALLY SINCE THE OPERA HALL’S DESERTED THE SHADOWS STAND TALL SILENT IN MEMORY NO ONE CARES FOR OUR ROMEO FRIEND NOT EVEN THE NIGHT WATCHMAN WHO SITS IN THE CORNER HOLDING THE OLD SCRUB WOMAN’S HAND ///////////////////////////////////////////////// CREEK IN THE MORNING THERE IS LIGHT BUT NO SUN MIST CURLS IN LAZY CIRCLES DEW FALLS FROM THE LEAVES MAKING RIPPLES A CATBIRD ON SOME LEAFY BRANCH SINGS OUT ///////////////////////////////////////////////// Frank a vollmer for more poetry see |
THEOTOKOS.docm
poetry| THEOTOKOS
SINCE PARENTHOOD BEGAN MOTHER AND CHILD ARE INSEPARABLE SINE QUA NON MARY WAS GIVEN THE TITLE THEOTOKOS WHICH MEANS GOD BEARER HER MAGNIFICAT PREDICTS THAT ALL GENERATIONS SHALL CALL ME BLESSED WE PEOPLE OF THE BOOK WOULD DO WELL TO PAY HEED THE CHILD THAT MARY BORE IN HER WOMB HAD TWO NATURES HUMAN AND DIVINE A FACT IF WE BELIEVE IN THE INCARNATION MANY WOULD RELEGATE MARY TO OBSCURITY EXCEPT FOR THE SINGING OF AVE MARIA FEW KNOW THE MEANING OF THE WORDS OR ITS RELEVANCE BUT AS GOD AT THE BEGINNING SAID BEGIN CREATION CAME INTO BEING MARY SAID FIAT GOD-MAN BECAME FLESH IN MARY’S WOMB SHE IS THE MODEL FOR ALL OF US TRUSTING IN GOD IN HIS WORD EVEN WHEN THE FUTURE LOOKS DARK HOLD ONTO HIS WORD WE LIKE MARY ARE IN GREAT TRAVAIL FOR GOD WILL BE BORN INTO THE WORLD THROUGH US GOD WAITS OUR FIAT FRANK A VOLLMER |
SHEEPDOG.doc
poetry| SHEEPDOG
WE MIGHT AS WELL BE SHEEP DOGS WE’RE AT THE MALL THE WIFE SAYS WAIT HERE I’LL BE OUT IN A MINUTE I RETIRE TO A BENCH WAIT IN COMPANY OF OTHER MEN WHO DON’T LIKE SHOPPING THE CONVERSATION CIRCLES OVER SPORTS WEATHER SETTLES OVER WHAT’S KEEPING HER FINALLY SHE COMES OUT BURDENED WITH BAGS WHICH I INHERIT WE THEN RESUME OUR PILGRIMAGE TO FIND THE HOLY GRAIL OF BARGAINS HOWEVER IF A BOOKSTORE LOOMS OR A GADGET STORE I SUGGEST I’D LIKE TO GO IN IN FIVE MINUTES I’VE TIMED IT SHE’S AT MY SIDE SAYING ARE YOU GOING TO BE ALL DAY SO BEING THE OBEDIENT SHEEPDOG I’VE BECOME I PROGRESS TO THE NEXT STORE WHERE I SIT OBEDIENTLY FOR MY MASTER FRANK A VOLLMER for more poetry see |
THE DUMP.doc
poetry| THE DUMP
I PROBABLY WON’T BE COMING THIS WAY AGAIN TO THE DUMP I MEAN WHERE ONE WENT FOUND TREASURES TO TAKE HOME OR LEFT THEM FOR ANOTHER NOT A BAD WAY OF LIFE GETTING LEAVING FAVORS BUT I WON’T BE COMING THIS WAY AGAIN THE SEA HAS CHANGED IT NOW RUNS IN A NEW DIRECTION BROUGHT ON BY AGE HEALTH NEW VISIONS PERHAPS IN THIS NEW VISION I SHALL BE ABLE TO FIND AND LEAVE TREASURE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE THE TRADITION CONTINUE THAT THINGS NOT QUITE NEW OR SERVICEABLE WOULD BE MADE WHOLE NOT PERFECT BUT FUNCTIONING GOODBYE DUMP I SHALL MISS YOU BUT THERE’S A BIKE WITHOUT A CHAIN A WOBBLY TABLE NO NO NO COME AWAY IT’S ANOTHER TINKERS TIME FOR YOU IT’S TIME TO MOVE ON TO OTHER FIELDS OF FOUND AND LEFT TREASURES Frank a vollmer for more poetry see |
THE BIRDS .doc
poetry| FROM: SONGS FOR A FRIEND
THE BIRDS IT WASN’T THAT HE DIDN’T LIKE CHRISTMAS HE ENJOYED THE HOLIDAY FUN ALL THE BRIGHT COLORS AND SUDDEN GOOD WILL AND THE CHILDREN’S HAPPY SUSPENSE BUT HE COULDN’T BELIEVE IN CHRISTMAS IN THE INCARNATION I MEAN GOD LIVING A MAN-LIFE LIKE HIS? WHAT FOR? IT JUST DIDN’T MAKE SENSE TO HIM HE SAT BY THE FIRE WARM IN HIS HOME ON CHRISTMAS EVE ALONE THE FAMILY GONE OFF TO MIDNIGHT MASS HE HEARD A THUMP AT THE WINDOW AND THEN ANOTHER SOME MISCHIEF BOY OUT FOR FUN HE THOUGHT HE WENT TO THE WINDOW TO CHASE HIM WITH A GLANCE BUT FOUND NO BOY BUT A SPARROW FLOCK LURED BY THE LIGHT AND SIGHT OF WARMTH HAD TRIED TO COME THROUGH HIS WINDOW THEY HUDDLED NOW IN THE SNOW WITH NO PLACE TO GO AND HE FELT COMPASSION FOR THEM HE PUT ON HIS BOOTS AND JACKET AND SCARF AND OUT HE WENT TO OPEN THE GARAGE TO GIVE THEM SHELTER BUT THEY WOULD NOT COME SO HE TURNED ON THE LIGHT BUT THEY WOULD NOT COME HE WENT AND GOT BREAD AND THREW IT MANNA LIKE UPON THE SNOW A PATH TO FOLLOW BUT THEY WOULD NOT COME HE TRIED TO HERD THEM IN SHOUTING AND WAVING HIS ARMS BUT THEY WOULD NOT COME I’M SCARING THEM HE THOUGHT I’M SO BIG COMPARED TO THEM AND DIFFERENT IF BUT FOR A MOMENT I COULD BE A SPARROW I COULD LEAD THEM THROUGH THE DOOR I COULD LEAD THEM THROUGH…..THE DOOR (a twice told tale) FRANK A. VOLLMER for more poetry see |
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