Monday, November 11, 2013

Poetry: Awareness

I've written a few poems lately reflecting on scenes in my life, moments when God has been steeping me in an awareness of my wealth and excess, showing me how I look to others, revealing to me the ways that I judge and behave.

These are the rare moments.

As I was rushing around last night in a tired daze, just trying to get the kitchen clean so I could feel good about eating an ice cream cookie and then going to bed early, I began thinking about the scene in the kitchen of Luke 10 and the story of Mary and Martha. I could hear the voice of God whispering to me... "Kory, you're the Martha who masquerades as a Mary... you want everyone to think you're a Mary... why?"

I don't know. Because when I stop long enough to be a Mary, God reveals things to me. Things that I don't deserve and never have. Abundant dreams. Song and verse. Secrets of the universe.

But the danger of being a Mary is that whatever you get doesn't get taken away from you. So, when Jesus starts prodding at your image and identity problems, you can't really do anything about it... you've chosen to sit very close, right at his feet. That's a dangerous place to be.

So, hopefully these lines that I've written in the rare moments are vessels by which I become more aware of what needs to change within me. And maybe they'll say something to you, too. Peace on your upcoming week.


Whir, whir, whir, whir
back to godliness
buying (expiring) gas station hoagies
and real-sugar Pepsi for Billy Larry
but "no, no cigarettes."

I could just feel your skin there
kneeling at your stoop chair
cold, elastic

The judge decrees to vacant flesh beneath
tight, black leggings
for cigarettes.
"Sorry, Billy Larry. They're no good
for you."


You're like the brand name
carefully positioned between the Great Value
and the Always Save.
Looking straight ahead
arms crossed
tight shouldered:
can handle it.

Because love
a multitude of sins
and you love them,
their no-name generic labels
can't conceal the truth
blemished and dented from lack of care
poorly marketed
cheap. Not you.

Thank God you're all the same on the inside
under the package, under the skin
you belong
You're mixed fruit with
mixed reviews, and we'll occasionally buy
the other two,
but (surely you know that)
the one everybody really wants
is you.

--kory //

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