Poetry by John Kirkwood © 2000 To Main Page

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Goodby cruel world,

You world of woe

Whose sadness drowned a universe of hope

In a salty sea of tears.

Whose deaf and senseless ears

Have heard a thousand times

Those words of resignation sighed

By lips resigned to death.

Hark, the dawn illuminates

A different light on those familiar words.

Listen now, cruel world.

It is not I who leaves, but you.

 

Goodby cruel world,

Of monetary madness

Designed to slyly

Masquerade as a medium of hope.

Of lender's lies and leans

To bleed to death the poor.

A digital disaster.

A monumental morass

Of military mummery

And murderous desire.

 

Goodby cruel world.

I watch you go, not meekly

But with every tooth and claw

Crimson with the bloody butchery

Of warfare fought, father fighting son.

Lives laid low to fuel the fires

Of consummate destruction.

Dead dismembered corpses crumbling in a wind

Blown clean from far celestial shores.

Hurried on by prophecy of better times to come.

 

Goodby cruel world.

I'll miss you not at all.

Six thousand years of bitterness

Are yielding to dawn.

Peace to you my friend, and love .

Come.

Put your hand in His

And walk with joy,

Into a bright new world.

J Kirkwood © 1998

"Come with me my child,

To walk this glade that I have made;

To stay with me a while in this wide garden

Created just for you.

Take these trees, I molded them

To just the shape and hue that pleases me,

And look, the yonder cliff that drops so steeply

Into the dark abyss. I made it too.

Now come with me, my child,

To feel the thrill I put in you. . .

We'll steep our senses in the beauty I have made.

The two of us will walk the brink

In awe of such a splendor rare.

 

What? You did not note the crumbling stone

where I had made it so?

You fell and now are lying injured far below?

You foolish wicked child.

Though I made the wind to blow

That set your balance off,

The fault is yours. And such a painful sin.

I stand aloof from such a judgment flaw

And set the punishment for you."

 

My friend and fellow traveler on this earth,

Is this the GOD you see?

Is this the love that set the starry firmament alight?

Is this the GOD that created every mote

From fragmentary atoms to the universe?

Who pondered it and said that it was good?

The GOD who sheds a tear when sparrows fall

And notes the hairs upon your head when one is lost?

 

I see a different heart;

Compassionate with all that it creates.

A GOD of love so touched by our infirmities,

So pained by all that cuts or harms his handiwork,

That, in knowing all, He set His forces working to our good

And created all to nurture and sustain.

So when we walk with GOD in gardens fair

Or creep, of need, along the precipice,

We place our hand in His, and He,

In tears that danger comes to us,

Prepares the path for each of us to pass.

 

Perchance we see the crumbling stone

And say to GOD "I see none else to tread"

Perhaps the foothold with a fracture fails

And we to depths, despair and damage do descend.

We feel a healing hand to lean upon.

We find a heart compassionate and warm

That wills us to be well and whole.

A heart that willingly declares

"I am the cause of footsteps gone awry."

 

"That higher path, from which you fell, led on to doom.

This lower way, though dark and painful it may be,

Is strewn with gems and gold of wisdom gained.

Look there, they gleam and glow with every step.

You are my precious and my joy.

I made you, formed you with my hands and intellect.

Every hurt you feel is magnified in me,

For I, your GOD, created all that is."

 

Lift up your eyes, my fellow traveler,

And see your GOD with tears for two.

There comes a time

In God's Creation

When Heaven frowns

On every nation.

 

Kings will groan

And countries crumble

Oceans leap

And mountains rumble;

 

The neighbor's rebellion

The people's resistance

Completely erased

Smeared from existence.

 

But -- Quiet, wait.

A voice doth say:

Peace. Be still.

Come my way.

 

Oh joyous moment!

All heaven sings!

And earth with tearful

Laughter rings.

 

Dry your tears

And go his way

Through the crisp, clear morning

To the glorious day.

 

---

Apart

 

Who am I to say or think

This way I plot is best?

To set it out and follow it

Apart from all the rest.

 

Who Am I to aim my life.

To plot each dash and turn,

To say that I have found today

A better way to learn.

 

Why say I to learned men

"Thanks, I'll take it now."?

Then take the wheel and steer the ship

With troubled eyes and brow.

 

I can't answer things like these,

But criics are agreed

I'll wander off the earth's own rim

If them I do not heed.

 

---

Alone

 

I stand alone,

A crowd around me,

But I am alone.

Who can fathom

What the Lord has given me to muse?

Where is one who contemplates

The thoughts I know?

It's lonely here,

As some lost planet

Black and gaunt against the winkless night.

I look from face to foreign face and ask;

Where is one who comprehends

Or understands what circumstance

Can thrill my inner soul?

Is this one ?

Perhaps he shares my thoughts

And seeks the real meaning of

The universe.

Ah, you -- you there!

What say you

Of the power of the pleiades ?

How do the masters fare a

Century hence?

A blank and doleful countenance retreats

Hopeful he may meet a body less bizarre.

My hand and heart

Reach out for some returning touch.

My mind and soul search for a love,

Search for a power to communicate,

Search for a heart

To beat as one with mine.

Thus a lonely heart beats faster

With a dream of thoughts to come

And a lonely mind

Pursues eternity.

In the temples of the darkness

Hear the word and heed the call.

We can sing and march together.

There is freedom for us all.

He is resolutely stamping

Out the kingdoms large and small.

Our King is marching on.

 

By the fires in the mountains

You can see the marchers come.

There are tiny babes and children

But old crutches are for some.

You may sing the joyful marches,

You may choose to only hum.

Our light is shining on.

 

When we reach the journey's finish

We will see our Lord returned.

We will reap the blessed bounty

That the meek of earth have earned.

We will see the land and people

Of the word that we have learned.

Our march is pressing on.

How to be a Christian

Amidst a throng and crowd?

How to be most certain

But certainly not proud?

 

How to be as gentle

As any soft caress

In telling mighty words of truth

To others in distress?

 

How to tell my brother

I have a little light.

And yet be very humble

In knowing I am right.

 

How to answer questions

Such as those above

Comes each day, if I have faith,

From God's unending love.

 

---

Ship of life

 

Oh wonder vessel,

Ship of life,

Master of the sea.

Made from dusty

Earthyness

For eternity.

 

Fill your sails

With cool winds

That are the breath of life.

Breathe the stormy

Sorrow-joys

That stem from human strife.

 

Learn from each

Intended good

That sank with toll of bell.

Learn that dark and

Crushing storms

May teach a lesson well.

 

Taste the tears

And bitter grief

The salty blood of man.

Drink! The cup of

Dregs is yours.

Eke from it what you can.

 

Hear its cries,

Oh vessel bold,

Listen to the sea

Whisper plans

Of paradise

Held in sanctity.

 

See the dawn

of happiness

beyond your wildest dream.

There is no mind

no heart, no soul

His love cannot redeem.

 

Yes, and softly pray.

Oh stately one,

Master of the sea.

Pray that God

May plot your course

For eternity.