pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

HE IS RISEN!

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Pondering the blood-drenched tree
There but for His mercy, me
Tear-stained face, I bow the knee
Hallelujah! He is risen!

Low, for me His blood was drained
Love entombed, yet not contained
Absolution, as ordained
Hallelujah! He is risen!

(c) Marie Elena Good, 2013

Untitled communication poem, II

Image by TC Perch from Pixabay

uncompromised love
articulated by a
silent, empty tomb

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 3: Write a Communication poem).

UNTITLED COMMUNICATION POEM

Image by Public Affairs from Pixabay

Words may speak comfort
to the wounded. But, more so,
a shoulder. A tear.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021


In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 3: Write a Communication poem).

AND I (ode to John the Beloved)

Image by Bronisław Dróżka from Pixabay

The last twenty four hours –
bearer of agonizing anguish
and hideous horror.
Had I known what was to come,
I would have stayed away –
far away
from you. 


And I
would have safeguarded myself
from this enslaving loss.
I would have listened
to your compelling lessons –
your world-altering truths.
But I would have kept my distance

… and I,
I would have sat not at your feet,
but the foot of the hill.
I’d have sought your perfect rest,
but not at your breast.

And I can’t think of Judas
and how you knew.  You knew.
And how Peter did just as you said –
denied you. 
Three times denied you,
and I …
I wouldn’t have believed it.

The others you called,
scattered.
Frightened.
Confused.
Afraid for their lives, perhaps.
And I, myself, afraid.

But the women … oh,
the women …
how they were there for you today
along Golgotha’s way!
They wiped your wounded face
listened to your howls of pain
watched your mother’s horror
wailed
until your life left
and your silence spilled.

But the women remained
(chained to image and sound
that will never be loosed)
 – produced a ceaseless cry.

The women,


and I. 



© Marie Elena Good, 2021


In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 2: Write a What does the future hold poem).

WITH HIGH LEVEL OF ACCURACY, I PREDICT:

Photo by Alex Andrews on Pexels.com

WITH HIGH LEVEL OF ACCURACY, I PREDICT:


As soon as hands are wash-me wet,
my phone will start to ring.

When I am snoozing, you can bet
my phone will start to ring.

The moment we sit down to eat,
my phone will start to ring.

Before my urgent task’s complete,
my phone will start to ring.

The final seconds of the game,
my phone will start to ring.

Car warranty’s good, but all the same,
my phone will start to ring.

About to step in to the bath,
my phone will start to ring.

When I have moved from rile to wrath,
my phone will start to ring.

When I’m with someone, it is known
my phone will start to ring.

The second I put down my phone?
My phone will start to ring.

While pulling up my drive at home,
my phone will start to ring.

When nearly finished with my poem,
my … Sorry.  I need to get this …

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 2: Write a What does the future hold poem).

NO STRANGER, THIS

Image by Jan Steiner from Pixabay

He asked for water.
We’d never seen each other,
and we were alone:

He (a Jewish man)
and Samaritan-woman-
me, knowing my place.

Finding it a bit
amusing, I asked Him why
He asked this of me. 

He spoke in riddle,
“If you knew who was asking,
you’d have asked of Him,

and He’d have given
the gift of living water.”
Then He spoke again

and everything
there is to know about me,
He already knew.

I wasn’t disturbed.
There was nothing unsettling
in His countenance.

There was not a doubt
the gift He offered me was
His for the giving.

I drew His water.
But He? He quenched a thirst I
never knew I had.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 1: Write an introduction poem).

PALM SUNDAY

Image by CKSherrod from Pixabay

She carried her King –
Prince of Peace, and Lord of all,
while suckling her foal.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

“Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord needs them,’ and he will send them at once.” This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying, “Say to the daughter of Zion, ‘Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.” ~ Matthew 21:1-5

EASIER SAID THAN MUM

Photo by Keith R. Good

She spewed out a detailed confession.
Her friend made a robust suggestion:
Don’t let your mouth gush –
You must learn to hush
when asked a rhetorical question.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

Every little seed

Poland Forest, Poland, Ohio

Bloom confidently.
Even breeze-scattered seed is
rooted by God’s breath.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

NAVIGATING LIFE

Photo courtesy of Shutterstock

Some stare straight ahead.
Some can’t help but gaze behind.
Others, eyes closed, dream.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

#seventeensyllables