Today I just felt like sharing a small selection of some of my favorite poems, songs, and even a couple of my own ponderings. I’m not a huge poetry person to be honest but every once in a while I stumble across something that just resonates with me, ya know?
“First They Came” by Pastor Martin Niemoller
First they came for the Communists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.
Then they came for me,
and there was no one left to speak out for me.
“A Face Too Long in the Mirror” by Angela Jones-Cuéllar
When you look at a word too long it becomes no longer a word. You squint at it and know that it’s a word but it just looks weird, it looks wrong, it’s more comforting to re-type the word and let autocorrect confirm its existence. What do people see when they look in the mirror too long or too often? What do people see when they take too many selfies and scroll through them trying to choose the “right” one to post on Facebook or Instagram? In our culture today this really mostly speaks to girls. What do little girls see when they’re sat in front of the mirror too long or too often?
When you look at a word too long it ceases to be a word. What happens to a face left too long in a mirror?
Prayer of an Unknown Civil War Soldier
I asked God for strength, that I might achieve;
I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health, that I might do greater things;
I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.
I asked for riches, that I might be happy;
I was given poverty, that I might be wise.
I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men;
I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life;
I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am among all men most richly blessed.
“A Psalm of Life” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, -act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
“King of Hope” by Angela Jones-Cuéllar
God doesn’t simply wave a wand and erase all of your problems. But He does give you an unwavering reason to fight through them. He is the light at the end of the tunnel, the relief at the end of a battle. As King He is not only your cause but your leader. Despite the chains and shame weighing you down you put one foot in front of the other and march into battle against it all for your King and country led forward by the King himself. You know He is not a myth or false hope because He is right there with you walking by your side and facing the enemy head on.
“What a To-do”
What a to-do to die today, at a minute or two to two;
a thing distinctly hard to say, but harder still to do.
We’ll beat a tattoo, at twenty to two
a rat-tat-tat- tat-tat-tat- tat-tat-tattoo
and the dragon will come when he hears the drum
at a minute or two to two today, at a minute or two to two.
“You do not write your life with words…You write it with actions. What you think is not important. It is only important what you do.”
-Patrick Ness, A Monster Calls
“A Dream Within a Dream” by Edgar Allan Poe
Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
“Car Radio” by Twenty One Pilots
I ponder of something great
My lungs will fill and then deflate
They fill with fire, exhale desire
I know it’s dire my time today
I have these thoughts so often I ought
To replace that slot with what I once bought
‘Cause somebody stole my car radio
And now I just sit in silence
Sometimes quiet is violent
I find it hard to hide it
My pride is no longer inside it
It’s on my sleeve
My skin will scream
Reminding me of who I killed inside my dream
I hate this car I’m driving
There’s no hiding for me
I’m forced to deal with that I feel
There is no distraction to mask what is real
I could pull the steering wheel
I have these thoughts so often I ought
To replace that slot with what I once bought
‘Cause somebody stole my car radio
And now I just sit in silence
I ponder of something terrifying
‘Cause this time there’s no sound to hide behind
I find over the course of our human existence
One thing consists of consistence
And it’s that we’re all battling fear, O dear
I don’t know if we know why we’re here
Oh my, too deep, please stop thinking
I liked it better when my car had sound
There are things we can do
But from the things that work there are only two
And from the two that we choose to do
Peace will win and fear will lose
There’s faith and there’s sleep
We need to pick one please because
Faith is to be awake
And to be awake is for us to think
And for us to think is to be alive
And I will try with every rhyme
To come across like I am dying
To let you know you need to try to think
I have these thoughts so often I ought
To replace that slot with what I once bought
‘Cause somebody stole my car radio
And no I just sit in silence
“O Captain! My Captain!” by Walt Whitman
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up – for you the flag is flung – for you the bugle trills,
For you the bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths – for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
The arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
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