Church Coffee

Submitted by Julie on Sun, 12/19/2010 - 22:45


Church Coffee   I am a mug personally glazed with blue skies green tinged-clouds and the word “fly” They come around to fill me with steaming drink but their aim is off splashing consistently onto the handle only a drop or two lands in the cup and then out of the kitchen into the sanctuary this coffee is poured truly but no one sips the brew another day, another kitchen but no coffee here cider, my brew though poured truly, mixes strangely with the grounds that came before

The Wedding

Submitted by Jexteza on Wed, 07/07/2010 - 18:48

I haven't written in a long time  (but am trying desperately to start again!) So this is a poem I wrote in late 2007.

We're in this place

Of blinding things

We're in disgrace

We have clipped His wings

Lost in this crowd

Of sinful, earthly people

I'm screaming so loud

They are burning Your steeple


Show us

True life


Save Your wife


To watch her walk so staggeredly towards the filling room

Tears now swelling my eyes as she stumbles to the Groom


Submitted by Julie on Mon, 02/01/2010 - 22:26

Where am I?
                                                                                                    “At my inn. You were unconscious
                                                                                                               When he brought you here.”

The Veil

Submitted by Raen on Fri, 09/04/2009 - 04:19

In archaic stones, imposing structure,
A simple soul lived under
The mantle of artists great,
Close to Mother's Heart.

Out the door this simple heart
With stringed instrument did depart
From the convent walls,
On her way to choir loft.

At the transept, on bended knee*
A child waited prayerfully.
Innocent and unseeing,
Her red dress like a warning sign.

Small feet guided upon the steps,
Closer to the Divine Princeps.**
Above the shrinking pews below
The simple soul set her.


Submitted by Hannah W. on Sun, 08/02/2009 - 18:58

*I don't know what made me think of this today, but here's what came of it...*

It was green, I remember,
fields stretching long,
and bushes hunched together

It was stone, I remember,
statues, steps, path
grass growing through the cracks
and the pool full of our reflections
and tadpoles

It was damp, I remember
on a cloudy day under sweeping trees
reaching high with rustling leaves,
and the little house in the shadows with cobwebby sills
chasing, running

Locked Door

Submitted by AmandaLC on Sat, 06/14/2008 - 19:57

On one side of my there is masked joy, the other there are cries
I want to open for the scared, but those in charge of me left me locked
I want to open wide
I need them to know that they need help
I feel terrible that I am stuck
I thought this was a church
Why am I locked then?
I should be left open
What does God think?
Does He know I want to be open?
It became quiet inside…
What is happening?
Someone is coming to me with the key
There are tears
I am open
Now people are coming