Philosophies
By Dorothea Lasky The man who murders his wife
Is not the same as the man
Who goes around and murders a stranger.
I am a woman but I am not
The same as another woman.
Identity politics are bullshit.
There is only the smart and the evil,
The good and the righteous.
There is only one color on the earth.
In its infinite degradations it becomes music and mathematics.
There is shit on my hands
When I have been playing around with specifics.
Love your lover. You are a lover.
With each breath God has put a golden faith
Upon the snowy mountains of the world.
Here, look at the snowy mountains,
Glittering with snow.
They are wiser than you might think.
And in your soul, the small grey animals
Of the world sit and wait to do good
For you, and together
We are one thing, bleating a
Somber, scurrying lullaby to
Lapsing pinkish angels.
Upon a mountain
The angels smile sleepily as they stretch
Their very long legs, thinking of us.
And wise they might seem, us and the angels,
The Choice
By Nate Klug To stand for once
outside my faith
to steady it
caught and squirming on a stick
up to mind’s
inviting light
and name it!
for all its faults and facets
or keep waiting
The Progress of the Soul
By Thomas McGrath Where once I loved my flesh,
That social fellow,
Now I want security of bone
And cherish the silence of my skeleton.
Where once I walked the world
Hunting the devil,
Now I find the darkness and the void
Within my side.
First to be good, then to be happy I
Worked and prayed.
Before the midnight, like the foul fiend,
I killed my dear friend.
Hope unto hope, dream beyond monstrous dream
I sought the world.
Now, at the black pitch and midnight of despair,
From the birds that sing in the tallest trees
To the human life of you and me
From the desert sands to the place we stand
He is God of all, He is everything
I’m giving my life to the Only One who makes the moon reflect the sun
Every starry night that was His design
I’m giving my life to the Only Son who was and is and yet to come
Let the praises ring ’cause He is everything
‘Cause He is everything
From the autumn leaves that will ride the breeze
To the faith it takes to pray and sing
From the painted sky to my plank filled eye
He is God of all, He is everything
Hallelujah Hallelujah I believe (x2)
I’m giving my life to the Only One who makes the moon reflect the sun
I’m giving my life to the Only Son who was and is and yet to come
I’m giving my life to the Only One who makes the moon reflect the sun
Every starry night that was His design
I’m giving my life to the Only Son who was and is and yet to come
Let the Angels sing that He is Heavenly
So let the praises ring ’cause He is everything
I Remember, I Remember
By Thomas Hood I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!
I remember, I remember,
The roses, red and white,
The vi'lets, and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,—
The tree is living yet!
I remember, I remember,
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then,
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow!
I remember, I remember,
The fir trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from heav'n
A Heart Divided
By Pierre Reverdy He so spares himself
He so fears the coverings
The sky’s blue coverlet
And pillows of cloud
He is ill-clothed by his faith
He is so afraid of steps that go awry
And streets chipped in the ice
He is too tiny for winter
He so fears the cold
He is transparent in his mirror
He is so hazy he loses himself
Time rolls him under its waves
At moments his blood flows the wrong way
And his tears stain the linen
His hand gathers green trees
And nosegays of seaweed from the strand
His faith is a thorn bush
His hands bleed against his heart
His eyes have lost their glow
And his feet trail over the sea
Like the dead arms of devil-fish
He is lost in the universe
He stumbles against cities
Against himself and his own failings
Then pray that the Lord
Erase even the memory
Of this man from His mind
Adding It up by Phillop Booth
