MAKES NO DIFFERENCE WHO YOU ARE
Image courtesy of en.wikipedia.org
A star-struck me in childhood bliss
Off day dreaming, as dreamers do
And in this dream, I steal a kiss …
And would, were I a cricket too.
© Marie Elena Good, 2016
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
Category: Poetic Bloomings
June 26, 2016
June 22, 2016
Pathya Vat Prayer Verse
Sadly finding
Old fashioned prayer
Wretchedly rare;
Socially railed
© Marie Elena Good
June 19, 2016
UNTITLED
Photo by Keith R. Good
Loss can be peculiar
Sometimes trading nothing
For something
June 16, 2016
IN PERIL
This shining city on a hill
Has but a flicker of goodwill.
Our homeland’s in profound unrest;
Precarious as a young stork’s nest.
No longer held in high esteem …
Yet pray’ers pray, and dreamers dream.
Our brethren’s blood runs through our streets.
Unwelcome history repeats.
We’ve chosen shady and debased
To fill an office that’s disgraced
While haters hate, and schemers scheme.
Still pray’ers pray, and dreamers dream.
But God grants vision to the blind,
Redeems the lost; restores mankind.
His faithfulness is unsurpassed,
As through it all, His love holds fast.
My hopefulness remains agleam …
While pray’ers pray, and dreamers dream.
© Marie Elena Good, 2016
June 13, 2016
TWIST HER
Photo credit: thedancingimage.blogspot
What changes would no twister bring?
Everything.
The wicked witch? I guarantee
Would still be
Ruby slipper’d, with stockings striped
Black and white.
Her Aunt Em’s home would not take flight
No straw psyche; no tin goodwill
Contentment would elude her still
And everything would still be black and white.
© Marie Elena Good, 2016
June 5, 2016
A WEEK IN HAIKU
Photo by Keith R. Good
“… for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning.” ~ Lamentations 3
Dawn’s light emerges,
Hastening a new week’s cares.
Her knees, eroding.
Vivid moss roses
Flamboyant ruby hummers
Adore(n) her prayer walk
A murky morning.
Gloom seems to silence nature.
A still, small Voice calls.
The sun failed to rise,
She believes. And so she seeks
Son’s radiant grace.
Unsettling dream
Halted by sound of music
Caroled in her heart
Her heart feels absent;
Her spirit, arid and parched.
A gentle rain falls.
As dusk’s light withdraws,
She reaches out for His hand,
And there, finds her heart.
© Marie Elena Good
June 1, 2016
UNWANTED NEIGHBORS (Diminished Hexaverse)
PHOTO BY KEITH R. GOOD
The trouble with hawks
Is they cause trouble.
So when they began
To nest in our oak,
They were not welcome.
Squirrels were here first.
Jays were here first,
As were robins,
And chickadees
And others.
Don’t under-
Estimate
Others.
Hawk nest?
Hawked.
May 29, 2016
RISK
15 Weeks (photo courtesy of donum-vitae)
the problem with a
botched abortion
is that the baby
is at the risk of being
May 28, 2016
“Mary” (Entry from the journal of Mary of Magdala)
This morning
This mourning broke me.
Reality pierced my soul,
Left a gaping hole, with fears
No tears can fill.
This morning
His eyes haunted me,
As I already strained to recall
The implausible love I saw in them
Before the cross.
This morning
I longed to once again see myself –
Me as he saw me –
The me he presented to others –
Instead of the wretch I see in me.
This morning,
In darkness of mood and day,
I made my way to his tomb.
My heart and breath halted
As my eyes assaulted my senses.
This morning
He was gone.
I was even robbed of his lifeless body?
The cruelty of this was agonizing
And my wounds grew deeper still.
This morning
I wept harder and longer and deeper
Than I ever have before –
Not even at the cross, for I was too traumatized
For tears.
This morning
I saw men? Angels? Someone – something – angels
At the head and foot where he had lain.
They asked me why I was weeping.
How could I explain such pain?
This morning
I turned and saw a man – the gardener?
He asked me the same question the angels had.
“Woman, why are you weeping?”
Once my closed throat allowed me to speak,
I begged of him, “PLEASE sir, where have you put him?”
“Mary.”
Rabboni!
This morning
Mourning broke.
Light rose from darkness,
Spoke my name,
And I will never be the same.
©Marie Elena Good
Gospel of John, Chapter 20
Photo credit: Shutterstock.com
May 25, 2016
untitled aubade (dawn)
Photo by Keith R. Good
“Make it dark, make it grim, make it tough, but then, for the love of God, tell a joke.” ~ Josh Whedon
My mind was entombed
In the dark night of my soul.
Then it dawned on me …
pictured words 