[Rose Kelleher]

The recent threads on "Religious Poetry" and "Devotional Poetry" have got me thinking. You know how some themes are more challenging than others, because they've "been done to death"? Other themes don't easily lend themselves to twisty, turny treatment. Lyric poems need some kind of slant to be interesting. Unambiguous paeans are hard to do well.

Good devotional poetry is inherently hard to write; particularly, IMO, if it's addressed to Jesus, Christianity being sort of like the C Major of America. But any kind of straightforward homage is a challenge.

Your assignment: Write a devotional poem to the deity of your choice. (Note to certain easily-spooked people: Remember that this is just a writing exercise, and that the speaker in a poem does not necessarily represent the author.) Quetzalcoatl, Athena, Baal, Jesus, whoever. Preferably, use lots of epithets, in the old sense (defs. 1 and 2 here: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/epithet )

p.s. Tongue-in-cheek is good, but you get extra points if you successfully pull off a serious one. The operative word here being "successfully." No points if it's boring or treacly. (Not that I'm really giving out points, mind you.)

p.p.s. I can't say don't mock organized religion, but I can say that that's pathetically easy, and that I hope you'll challenge yourself.

p.p.p.s. I have finally finished editing this post!


[This message has been edited by Rose Kelleher (edited July 20, 2008).]

[Lance Levens]

Rose: Thanks for a fine idea. I posted this devotional piece some time ago on Metric.


To Christ, Our Lord

Bold as the sun, your light is also small;
it shines within my dark, contrary heart.
Yet, there are times when you’re no light at all.
When nights are star free and some blackening art
Has shrouded every squib, your mystery
Remakes my need to see a shape or form.
In that stark darkness—that’s when I can see!
I bless it; I embrace all fear of harm.

Let our suffering be molten steel
The Smith in his tenacity conforms
By blows until the glowing blade is straight.
And let the sword emergent be ornate,
Bright with arabesques of woe’s alarms.
Behold this pain and see the demons reel!

[Kevin Andrew Murphy]

Ruler of Rimes and Writer of Runes,
Teller of Tales and Player of Tunes,
Keeper of Kennings and Promise-Cup King,
Apple-Wife’s Husband, Bright Songbird, come sing!

Master of Meter and Maker of Mead,
Honey-Tongued Herald and Knower of Need,
Greeter of Guests in the Allfather’s Hall,
Welcome O Welcomer, Minstrel of All!

Long-Bearded Bard and Dreamer of Life,
Harp-Holding Skald with the Apple-Cheeked Wife,
Poet and Master of Riddles and Wit,
Rune-Tonguéd Bragi, your names hath been writ....

[Janet Kenny]

Devotion to one's self at least
is more sincere than public cant
or pious drool, some sycophant
might write to rule. The smirking Beast
knows how to dupe the credulous
with flattery and sedulous
attention. Go sell real estate,
or put your children on the street.
I beg you, it is not too late
to write for gain, before you prate
outdated PR stuff, Defeat
this old conditioned need to show
how good you are. I want to know
how bad you are. The juices flow
when poets prostitute for pay.
Get writing Kid and make my day.

[Frank Hubeny]

House of Song, House of Lies


The angel meets you on the way.
The House of Song delights your ear.
Just cross the bridge and then you may
Rejoice in what you long to hear.
The angel looks upon your face
And seems to know what's hid inside:
Those very deeds that you'd erase,
As well as those you'd show with pride.

Beneath the bridge, the House of Lies
Has demons eager for your fall.
They hope, on crossing, they'll hear cries
As one more comes to join them all.
The demons say, "It's peace you need.
Jump in and rid your soul from hate.
We guard the Lord's most ancient creed.
Do what is right. Don't hesitate."

The angel floats, but you must walk.
Without a word, you know she's kind,
And though it doesn't help to talk,
You speak, since you fear what you'll find,
"Oh, God, if You would hear me now,
Forgive me for the things I've done."
The angel smiles, but this is how
You walk, as your new life's begun.

[E. Shaun Russell]

Angel

An angel lies in wait for when I'm weak
And buoys my hopes as though he were my kin,
He sees the kind of man I am within
And guides my soul towards the things I seek;
When I am most depressed and life seems bleak,
He's always there to flash a ready grin,
As if to say, "A snake can shed its skin,
And so can you" although he does not speak.
It's comforting to know that at my core
There is a force that daily yearns to show
My inner self the grace beyond the woe;
Its presence is a boon I can't ignore
Despite the fact that in my heart I know
The angel is my conscience, nothing more.

[Anne Bryant-Hamon]

.............R O S E S

........I like fresh roses best
........hung up-side-down
........and drying in a
........darkened closet.

........For when they rest awhile,
........then they will last forever.

........And when my world seems
........up-side-down and dark,
........I go alone into my closet
........and think upon
........the Everlasting Promise
........crowned with thorns.

[Janet Kenny]

I sink in awe before Great Ra,
Giver of Light and Warmth, You are
the Source of Life, You bring the Rain
then take the Water back again.
You germinate the Sacred Grain
and ripen it. You are our Star
the Sun of the almighty Ptah.
You burn us as we scream in pain,
then hide in cloud though we complain.
You are our Parent and our Shah.

[Andrew Frisardi]

removed .............

[Marion Shore]

FAITH

for we walk by faith, not by sight.
<FONT >...... 2 Corinthians 5:7</FONT s>


'We walk by faith and not by sight'
would seem a lot to ask,
when you yourself created light
to aid remaining tasks.

Perhaps the kneeling cripple seeks
no fruitless errantry,
but wanders through the ordered streets
of your eternity;

perhaps the blind man finds the way
to come within your sight,
but I go, stumbling through your day,
and blinded by your light.