Psalmedy

Concern abounds as I look across the this
Street of misery and pain; what a bliss
To hear the singing behind, the refrain,
The Chorus against this murderous reign,
So very unlike what falls from the sky...
Even my beliefs do utter a sigh.

Anger begins to gnaw at my side when
Seeing these phonies walk into their den;
Begins the heart to beat twice as fast, much
Too fast to consider the faintest touch
Of the mind with all seriousness. Oh
That I could only, with certainty, know...

It hurts to look at them standing there, sun
Streaking through the cold; the sound does now thrum
In the air like the many snow flakes that
Falter from the skies above. Like a bat
Comes swooping in from the side the mallet,
Destroying their home. It is pains valet...

From the sky I look down to see in flames
Those that run from the storm of bullets, names
I've never heard before in my life come
To mind when I look upon such strife. And
Is this all from a misunderstood word?
Words spread like fire when they have been misheard...

I take it all to the place where you dwell;
Rather than spewing forth such words of hell
That do inspire riots, revolts, and death.
I take it to you O Lord, in a breath
I speak of our need; and what this is I
Cannot say...not for certain. I do die
To consider the injustice abroad...
Do suffer to consider the pain. Bawd
As I do in times of distress I state
My self they servant as I contemplate
The meaning of these things, I ponder your
Word in my heart, lest I should so abhor
What I say to others. Yet you do sit
Upon your throne and listen to my rant...
Which I cannot understand! My dear aunt
Would chide me for behaving as such, my
Parents deride me for trying to vie
With the way things are, my brother would laugh
At my attempt to fix the world with math!
My sisters joke about how much in need
I am of down time, to relax and feed
On the niceties of the earth. But still,
Though they all consider me foolish, fill
Their heads with words as I have done before,
My mother sits in silent tears, and more;
For my father sits in silent wrath, his
Anger kindled against those who do wrong...
Whether intentionally, with song
Of malice and hate, or with ignorance...
Which is for some merely a second rate
Crime...Such are the things I consider in
Time...

I cannot add to the words expressed
By the silence of a mother, confessed
I there and then to my father near
That I loved them both, ever so dear...
That I desired to give them my all...
That I desired to answer their call...
But what to do? What to say? to mankind?
Where are those that love them to? can I find
Further witnesses with which to join
My frame of mind? is there some fair coin
By which we may purchase ease and comfort
For all of those that suffer injustice?
Or are we in our minds thinking of bliss
That comes in the next world beyond this one?
The one that comes when the day is done?

I hear in my heart, a whisper of God...
I smell in the air his presence; I laud
His name in silent admiration, give
Him praise with my thoughts. I know I can live
In this world of suffering pain...
And I'll say it again, the refrain!

I'll give myself to God,
I'll give myself to the poor.
I'll give myself, will nod
In obedience at the door...
I'll speak in silence to the press...
I'll give myself in words, confess
My deeds in silent refrains,
And the world may see the pains
Of the poor as my very own...
No matter what others say...
I'll work until the end of day.
I'll speak of Christ to those who seek
To find the everlasting peak.

What more can I say? What more can I do?
With many words I am still so very untrue.
I can speak and yell until I am blue...
For words are louder than actions...
Shouting out all manner of malefaction's.
Yet the simple act may in silence give
Another the chance that they may live...

             Psalmedy, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

Here's Hoping...

I wake each morning with a sigh,
A stretch that reaches a mile high.
I look out the window at the flames
Rolling past me, the countless names
That streak the papers come to mind,
I pray to God that he to them be kind.

I walk down the stairs, to eat of course.
I don't have a car, or even a horse;
Which means that i'm lugging it to work
Before I get fired by my boss, that irk
In my side, that pain in my wrist...
You all get the sense, the gist.

I hear the siren go off again, and again.
Fall down in my seat, underneath
The table; insufficient as this pen
Is I still feel safer, can still bequeath
To my heart some satisfaction
While outside rages the malefaction.

I walk out the door with a prayer or two.
I think of true love, and what man will do
To have just the sight of his lovers glance;
One more night, just one more dance...
My prayer collides with the sound of flames
That consumes the ever higher list of names...

I reach my destination before death can find
My name in the street; God today is kind...
Perhaps says a voice its simply my luck
That I should have been saved from the muck
And filth that swarm the street outside...
Perhaps, respond I, yet I hurry inside...

The shouts and the screams of hurry it up
Do cause me distress; like a mindless pup
That's woken up at the middle of night
I run hither and thither, all a fright.
A single mistake in here and your done...
Overhead we hear an airplane's run...

I nod to my friend standing in the back;
He works with the printer. I with the stack
Of paper feed the hungry machines,
That print with black ink madmen dreams.
For who could believe a word of ink
When one see's that the words do stink...

I offer thanks for getting through the morning;
But ask for protection, lest in scorning
The enemy come to take me away
Into the night, and the endless day.
I start to eat lunch, and again I hear
The sound of bullets, at which I do sneer.

Writhing anger rises and falls with a crash
Similar to the sound of a mortar's splash
Upon the ground, not thirty feet from our place!
The cry of another soul, another nameless face...
I keep working, though my friends do cower...
And my boss, frightened, is no longer a tower.

By the end of the day, all is done, I'm alive.
I continue to pray; on the way home I strive
To keep my eyes averted from the pain,
I hear in the street an endless refrain
For help, for money, for swatches of food!
But I would not help them, even if I could.

I turn a corner, and another one comes!
They rush to get near me, the drums
Of the innocent destroyed by other men;
They seek a place to stay, a home, a den.
For themselves, their children, their wives!
Yet I continue onward, clutching my knives.

Is it fear that prevents me from loving?
Is it pain that causes me to look away?
Why do I keep onward, ever striving
To make it to the end of another day?
Am I lucky where they are not?
Or do I have for a moment, what I have got...

I reach my home, I pray again, thankful
That I have managed to reach the end;
How very sad is my heart, how pitiful
Is the frame of this man. I do intend
To do better tomorrow, if I can.
That's always the hope, the plan.

I sit down to eat, the sound of knocking...
These beggars do come to me, stalking
Me in the streets and at home.
They have no where to stay, so they roam
Without rest, offend all that they see...
For they are the proof of lacking generosity...

The gnawing, the gnashing, these screeching souls
Begin to tear away at my patience, my control!
I stand in anger, I refrain from speech...
Lest I should destroy them like a leech!
Then walking to the door, my heart stops dead...
I hear what they hear, and it fills me with dread.

Laughter in the streets, men with guns...
No more words do come; sudden drums
Do pound upon my chest and I sweat...
How many of them will survive? Forget
Says the voice inside of me, forget them!
Tis but a dream, a cycle of REM!

The sound of gunfire pierces the night...
I see it all as in a vision pervades one's sight...
I sit back down, another falls to the ground...
No more to irritate me; no not a sound
Shall bother me again this night. Not one.
They had nowhere to hide...nowhere to run.

I walk up the stairs at night with a prayer...
Desperate excuses made up of despair
From own guilt wrung out of my heart...
Have I been wise in action? Or failed my part?
The sound of flames outside again...
I am safe inside of my home, this fen...

I go to sleep, I am not afraid of these sounds
That now terrorize the city, these evil lauds
That clout the sky and beat the ground...
I am scared of what inside of me is found.
I am frightened that what I've done
Is not enough to escape deaths conundrum.

I wake in the morning, I offer a prayer...
I open my eyes, and then I do stare
At the ceiling with regret and pain...
At the thought that I have become another name
That none will remember, no none at all...
The sound of the plane is my death call...

I do not run, I do not flee...
I am indifferent. I am free?
I am despairing...I give up!
I am a mongrel, a mere pup!
I am a man without a bone
To pick, a heart of stone...

Learn from me, lest you die of it...
Lest you die where you do now sit...
Learn from me, lest the pain inside
Should grow from wounded pride.
Learn from me, lost love's not enough
To cause you to shun others, to bluff
Your way through life as a loner...
To give up on men, to be a runner...

Now the flames envelope me with a bang!
I feel for a moment the whip of the tang
In the everlasting flames of doom...
I know no more...there is no room
For love, no room for hate...
I am indifferent...that is my fate...

Awake with the fear of God in your heart!
Awake! For today you must begin, start
To act without fear of what is outside!
Let go of vanities, of foolish pride!
Awake! Awake! Fire and sword do come!
Whether you like it or not, the beating drum
Will become your ears or your heart...
Awake...do now begin to do your part...

And love eternal shall be yours to keep.
What you sow will eventually be yours to reap...
Believe, with all sincerity
That you can love, that you can be free...

Here's Hoping...(c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

The Lovers Grace

He woke me with a smile,
Just a smile, so I say.
Come with me for a while,
Into the brightening day!
Too sleepy to comprehend
The meaning of His phrase
You in sleep did wend
About a hazy maze
That went to and fro
Between crocodiles with wings
And deserts on the go
With desert snakes, and things.

He reached out and touched
The tip of your shoulder;
With his hand on the clutch
Of a manual shift car
You saw him in your dreams.
So very very far was he
From you in sleepiness
That you said yes, I'll go;
But paid little attention
To what you said. It seems
That we wish for bed
To be a perpetual devotion;
Instead we have to wake...

He shakes you slightly,
Not too much, every lightly,
As a sunshine ray would
Sneak into the room;
And although you should
Recognize a ray of sun
Shine when it comes, swoon
With joy when it doth run
The length of the earth
To see you in the birth
Of a new dawning day,
Instead you do bay
Out in your sleep.
And he, suffering joy, doth weep.

O beauteous woman, my love,
He calls you by your form;
Such a tender call, as a dove
So early in the morning
Does call out, not in scorning!
Yet deeper into the dream
You fall, and in it you scream!
You call out for him who is near,
But is far away from you; for fear
Keeps hold of you in dreams
That never cease to hold on,
Do speak only of what seams
To say, that He sent you Anon!

Now concerned He speaks,
He calls out your name;
And suddenly you stop; weeks
May have gone by in a stream
Of steady thoughts that gleam
No real meaning, no refrain
That is discernible. Such pain
Is but the memory of a dream,
And opening your eyes at once
From having heard the ream
Of his voice in the echoing
Room you do now feel dense
To have forgotten to sing
Before going to sleep
Of love and beauty;
But rather did weep
To think he would not be
There to hold you in his arms.
Oft this is what causes alarms
To go off inside our heart,
Where they will never cease
Until we acknowledge on our part
That our fear is unfounded,
Our concerns are deceased,
So that from our nightmares
We may then be released...

His smile opens wide,
He has nothing to hide;
You are awake! Says he!
With apparent glee.

No more be the shadows in your heart,
Shaken, and battered, and bruised,
But not destroyed; for the better part
Has survived the fray of the night,
And now His eyes do pierce like a dart
Your soul. Like a falcon He swoops
In for a gentle kiss,
Of such sweet remiss,
Of heavenly bliss,
So that you can hardly miss,
The intentions, make no mind hoops
For you to jump through concerning
How very much for you his heart is burning.

So suddenly, just as the dawn becomes
A reality upon which we do fawn
When we take note of it having come
Without warning, without a drum,
We do take delight in each other's love;
So may we each take, in the heavenly dove,
Delight for each other,
May Juliet's Glove
Be removed from our eyes,
May the sun shine on we,
Illuminating what flies over bounding seas.

Our sight now roams from coast to coast,
Seeing, not seeking, for we ourselves toast
In each other's presence.
This sight, this touch; the fence
Does flee from in a moment's haste.
Nightmares are by daylights ray's replaced.

The Lover's Grace, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

From Within We Go Out

I wake in the morning, I smile every day!
I walk down the staircase into a small bay
Of water that streams down alongside
My person, into a den of lions, a pride,
Of Persons; all their pomp display
Like peacocks that light up the fray
That can be seen going on outside my doors...
And there we turn not...for they are all bores
That do not come from within my house,
Are tiresome, pities as small as any mouse
That comes scurrying in for bread and butter...
An image comes to mind...Forgive me mother.

I sigh in the afternoon from all this show,
I make or I break every man in his woe
Of passion for me, in his desire for my form;
Is that not the idea? Is that not the norm?
I walk through a sea of chandeliers;
And they reflect every one of my fears.
I put on a face as white as the grave...
To these images, self deception, I am a slave.

I frown in the evening, and they think me faint;
They cannot discern within me, nor can they paint
From the signs what I endure every single day...
Cannot understand the question of whether I may
Or may not exist without their company...
Of whether or not of them I may be free...
They laugh at my jokes, they applaud my speech;
Like an actor I turn, the pedestal doth screech
But they take no notice of my pronounced fall,
For it is within! And they are all at the ball!

They go out, one by one; their chains clink...
Inside my soul I scream out loud! I think
How unbearable is this misery, this sham,
This putrefied behavior, this blemished lamb
That baa's in my ear with disdainful glee...
I am blind, I cannot with my own soul see
What I am any more, nor what I should be...
I long to be gone from this place, to be free!

They have gone, I utter a cry that is shrill!
I have had my fun in the morning, my fill
Of elegance and desire;
I have made a great fire
Burn in the hearts of men,
Inflamed many women
Against my person!
Reel the hearse in!
For I shall no more exist in my shame!
I wish for peace, to know my name!

A knock at the door...as there is every night.
Dare I open it? Dare I see this Holy Sprite
That so often comes to cheer my soul?
Who so oft begs me to render up control
Of my fears? These up and coming men,
Like cats, do brush up against me, ren
Der me a broken glass upon the floor
So that my own person craws; I abhor
Them more than anything else in the world!
Yet can the fear of them overcome the sword
Of truth outside this door of mine?
Can I open my heart to Him? Pine
My grief with sincerity and hope?
Overcome this chain? This fashioned rope
That binds me to a life of glittering
Shams that do now in my soul sing
Foul dirges of hams that did defeat
One after the other for lands
That were in their brothers hands?

I faint at heart, my body spent...
My soul follows, and it is rent.
The knock again, once more, again...
I am trapped inside my palace fen.

A voice inside? Or vain delusion...
Perhaps my pride...or such illusion
That would make one hope for love
That comes from without, or up above...
Can it be that the one outside is within?
Already leading me to open the doors of sin?
Desiring to enter formally from without
Rather than force from within like a lout
The doors wide open so that He may free
What I am from what I desire to be?

I walk...towards the door...
Trembling...as never before.
I open it wide...and there I see...
O, I cannot tell you what I see...
Only that it has truly set me free!

From Within we Go Out, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

Collision Course

Unbeknownst is she to me,
Much like the depth of the sea.
Unfathomable her mind,
Yet on the surface is kind
Gentle, and meek as the dawn
Before the coming day. Fawn
May one upon such a frame,
As this figure did inspire
One to count the stars and name
Them all as lesser than she.
For one could eternally
See in her beauty and grace;
And such sight did I misplace.
For having seen her I said
To myself I am so dead
As one who is in love, not
Thinking of the source but hot
For what was awakened, made
Blind by the sudden light, staid
From true growth by the sign. Such
Fools do not seek to give much
Credence to the one who sent
Such a maid, but their minds, bent
With previous condition,
To succumb to perdition's
Slow and steady trek of doom.
But hardly had this fair bloom
Been seen by me but she was
Snatched away, and since because
Of this I was deeply sad,
And anger ensued, a mad
Desire did well up inside
And filled me with dismay. Pride
Did become the source of my
Strength and power. And we die
To do what we do for spite
Against the one who is nigh
Nearer than the sign, the night
Becomes darker still for it,
And we are lost in a fit
Of passion and envious rage
That allows not a one sage
Thought to enter our black souls;
Such are we, black as the coals
That have not been lit by love
That comes from God up above.

Yet having traversed from this
Time of passion into bliss,
I now see her beauties grace
From the light of God's own face,
And rejoice heartily for
Her at becoming so sure
At heart of what God had planned.

For like a ship that is manned
By many a sailor's hand
So is her soul in a land
That is unknown to her self;
The captain now is her wealth,
Who stands beside her gentle
Frame, gazing with such full
Attention into her eyes
That her heart falters and flies!
Such is the union I see
Has become her merrily.
Though I see it but afar,
As one in spirit see's God,
I know tis true, though bizarre,
And hope she does now God laud.

And having watched from the hill,
Taken in my goodly fill
Of the beauteous sight that
Fills me with goodness and light,
I stand, I stretch, and now at
Peace do walk my own land way.
As they, this beauty, and her
Captain depart for a stay
Upon the ocean, procure
I a devotion of sorts
With such a friendly cohort.
Our road is long and painful,
For I have known him so long,
Yet my love is, well, un-whole.
But he makes me very strong,
And strikes up a tune. I sing!
So we travel along, make
Merry the pathway of thorns
For love, for the other sake.

And in conclusion my dear?
I thank you, for I do fear
That had I never seen you,
Had I never known the true
Light of God residing in
Your heart, I'd still be in sin
Of a deeper sort, still be
Prisoner to ignorance,
Lost in a boundless blue sea
Of my pride! A solid dunce!

Paths do collide;
In this world we abide!
All sojourn here,
Some in hope, some in fear!
Perhaps we live,
But hopefully we die!
In hope we give,
Lest we never reply
To God's own call.
Some do so much forestall
To answer him
That they must be as dim
As if the sun never shone on their face!
Yet now each has found his own proper place.

                    Collision Course, (c) Luke Bennette, September 2012

New Wine Skins

What stranger appears before my door?
His hair all matted, his face doth abhor
The very ground he walks upon with a scowl;
For wrapped around his waist is a towel.
Yet seeing me behind the screen of life
He ventures a smile, of pain and strife;
For who could manage any more than this
When from them life was robbed of bliss?
Yet I am apprehensive at best, for sure;
My stomach lurching, I seek to procure
The reason for this strange visitation;
Praying that he be not some consternation
That seeks a place to lie his head;
For such a thought fills me with dread.
But I open the door, a grimace begins
To dawn upon my face so that it swims
With wrinkles, and so is dotted with pain;
A pain within me that reflects his refrain.
So there we sit, speaking without words;
He begging for shelter, I saying absurd!
Are you to come here, to me?
I wish he would drown in a raging sea!
And it doth show now that we understand each other;
That I despise him, and that he reveres me as a brother.
Yet neither of us move, neither of us speak.
To embarrassed now is he, and far to weak
From his condition, the lack of good inside;
And I to angry, to full of myself, with pride
Do administer a deeper scowl than he.
I pray God be not watching, that Trinity.

While we did stare upon the ground,
Without a word, and without a sound,
Some neighboring boys came walking by;
Their noisome attire did provoke a sigh
Of frustration, of annoyance most great;
And now I do consider how full I am with hate.
They did shout out, when they saw this man,
This half naked scarecrow, and whispered a plan
Between one another. Smiles did begin to brim;
Not the smile of love, but the smile of sin.
But took no note of them did the old man,
For his face was to the ground; as a van
Guard to his defeat was his humility,
Stepping backward, off the porch, into a sea
Of foolish taunts and shouts and boyish chants
That made him seem no better than ants
That have been squished underneath one's shoe;
Now the anger inside of me begins to brew.
Then suddenly I see anew this poor old man,
I see that they, these boys, did so plan
In their minds what I would have done;
To have admonished this beggar then run
Away! Taking his towel as well!
I see it in my mind, a tortuous hell.
This indeed is what happened, and damper still was he;
The old man who now was stripped of his towel. Did flee
The boys up the street with great amusement and glee,
While he fell to the floor and implored the Holy Trinity.
Then shame uncalled for came into my heart,
And a dreadful calling did upon me impart
A command, which in obedience I heard.
I walked down the porch and spoke the first word.

Come into my house dear sir, please forgive!
Do not look upon my inhumanity, please live
With me for a while until you have grown
Well enough; indeed such men have flown
That accept charity even after scorned;
They understand the dignity adorned
Within their bodies, their very soul.
So do I recognize, and relinquish control
Of all such pride you saw in me before.
Please, come, enter through my door!
Inside you'll find clothes, a warm bed, and more;
A drink I think, and some food are in store.
Please enter, dear friend, excuse my bid
To win for myself nothing; for I hid
Inside myself like a mongrel pup that's lost
Inside of some tortuous maze, and it has cost
Me more than I realized. Enter my friend,
Come in for a time, my pride do mend.

And looking up at me he said with a smile,
Thank you my boy, I will only stay a while.
I'll pay you back in ways unknown, by one
Who cannot be but generous, will not be outdone.
My master is the same as yours I think,
And so I accept your offer to a drink.
What's more I offer you what I have,
Words mostly, but with these you may lave
Yourself with divine inspiration;
Few have this in all the nation.
I come to you as I am, and I give
Whatever is needed so that I may live.

Then entered he did, into my home.
Up the porch steps, past the lawn gnome.
His scowl replaced by a wide beaming brim
As wide as a cowboy hat, his face did swim
In a light as bright as the sun in the sky;
Such a light did inspire me, though I know not why.

And he has lived with me to this day.
And many others as well, they do pay
Well for their room and board, more than some;
And I avoid a great deal of conundrum
As they work with their skills to repair my house.
Strange it may seem, that I, a great big louse
who wouldn't give in for the world, a souse
Who drinks at night to ease his pain
Would allow such a man onto my plain
Of dignity, and prestige. But I was a fool,
A mere shadow of what I could be, a tool
That was broken in the hand, could not see
How very welcome this man could be,
Until I saw the result of an action,
The result of passion's satisfaction.
And through the sight of another's mistake
I learned to reform, to fix the stage, to rake
It up so as to climb higher still
Into the grace of God, to unite my will
To the King of Kings, and the Lord of Lords,
To place my heart within the treasure hoards
Of the everlasting King, God, man divine.
And now he resides with me, he is my wine.

New Wine-skins, (c) Luke Bennette

Tis But a Squall

Short and sweet the day may be,
But not enough. Eventually
Spring may turn to summer, then fall;
Then fall becomes a winter maul
That takes the day down to size;
And such a thing some here may prize.
Yet soon the days begin to thaw, and May
Comes rolling round, another day
Becomes the rolling plains of grass and wheat;
Proclaiming winter's death, the defeat
Of snow and cold, the frost and chill
Now flee! the sound of birds doth fill
The crisp cut air that's turning warm;
Prepare we now, an ungodly storm
Approaches fast as lightning gone;
Before it's done the day will be wan
As milk that's left to curd into cheese.
Comes round the giant stormy freeze
To contend with the Spring,
Hail doth it's billowing bring,
Wind and rain to chill my spleen!
But little damage doth May seem
To take from this monstrosity;
It counts it but as little, a mere fee,
A sufferance that must be met
Lest executioners take la tête
De la pleasure from life eternal;
For this is life, and it is full
Of recompense and little woes;
This storm is but a storm of shows
That vainly tries to fight against
What is in truth always hell bent
To be, has always been, and is...
I guess such shows did business
Only, and no play at all in their lives,
Did shirk love, no hope in their eyes,
Did seek but the goods of others who have made
What they did see as good, but a promenade
Of pomp and vanity that's weak!
That is all a storm is, so to speak.

So in the springtime consider well,
Lest you falter in the storm; I tell
You not a single pain endured for love
Will go unnoticed from above.

When in Springtime you find yourself,
Life seems good, surrounded by wealth
Of friends, good fortune, and family,
Benefits as far ranging as the sea,
Consider well the storm on the horizon;
Weather it well my friend, do not shun
The message it has for you.
To yourself, always be true.

Tis But a Squall, (c) Luke Bennette, September, 2012