NaPoWriMo #23: April/May.

May will be the fecund dream
I ever read in mist ahead of me.
And I will sweat with minimal exertion
as chagrin drips down the temple
of my crinkled brow.
Ever the disembodied dreamer,
donning quixotic daily despite
the daily disappointment of my dreams –
Learning life is not a poem
I am meant to penetrate,
much less explain away,
but April come she will
just the same.

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NaPoWriMo #21: Trash.

The tattered notes are stacked and strewn across my desk,
spilling over from my bag and out of books I used to
pore through seeking out
some words befitting some occasion.
And soon they’ll rest in pieces among
fresh coffee grounds and eggshells
newly cracked and dripping wet
with embryonic
remains.
Only a hoarder would hang onto these
incipient ramblings, and I am something
worse —
a poet wishing for a home for every little-orphan-
annie word that ever cracked the door
inside my skull.

NaPoWriMo #19: Junia’s Not Alone (Draft***).

***I’m still working on this one.  Probably all of these NaPoWriMos are drafts, but this one in particular.

Don’t say a woman can’t preach.

Don’t tell the woman at the well.
Don’t tell this Mary not to say what
she carries in her womb, or that Mary
not to tell the men about the tomb.

Don’t tell Deborah to stop judging, nor
Miriam not to sing.  Don’t tell Rahab her
past prevents her from stepping up
and doing her thing.

Don’t tell Lois not to give her grandson
the message she received.  Don’t tell
my Mother not to prophesy; don’t tell
my sisters not to preach.

Because Junia does not walk alone
in the resurrection parade;
we march on, following women
every step of The Way.

And you can tell them to stop talking
but you cannot stop their walking.
You can raise your voice to shout
and the rocks will drown you out.

But  I do not claim to speak for them,
or for anybody.
My 0nly aim is to remind me:
In Christ, we are one Body.

This is just something I heard in churches
where only men got to be the mouth,
and the women were only invited to use theirs
to tell the kids to quiet down.

This is something they read in verses
cut out and applied to you,
but my friends and I all read the same Story,
only we read the names, too.

And we’ve listened to the way you talk
and compared it to our Savior
until it seemed right for us to agree
you aren’t doing Him any favors.

So we won’t try to silence you
the way you’ve tried to do.
In fact, be our guest, have your say.
Do your best, come what may.

Because the Truth seems to thrive
in a field fertilized by lies.
And you can tell our women not to preach,
but still, like Christ, they’ll rise.