one day at a time - Flemzo's NaPo thread

So, my New Year's resolution this year was to write a poem for every day of the year, and since Lent didn't allow me to start a NaPo thread when it started, I'm saying "to hell with it" and starting one now. I apologize in advance if some of them don't make sense: it's either personal venting, or it's a continuation of poems from previous months. Also, I apologize for posting sixteen days worth of poetry in a row.

And one last one: sorry if I stole anyone's writing style of no caps. It's easiest for me to crank out poetry when I don't have to worry about capitalization unless I'm emphasizing something.

So, here we go!

april 01 - april fool

to think that
once upon a time,
i was able to discern
fact from fiction.
where have those days gone,
and why must i endure
a ton of shit
falling on my head,
and having to swim my way out of it,
while at the same time,
being constantly dumped on?
i just don't understand why i'm swamped,
but everyone else is just fine.
it's times like these
that i hate being
the april fool.

april 02 - Reno 911!

i'm not a fan of the new Reno 911.
the new sheriffs are tools,
and the whole show seems scripted.
the hilarity of the old show
is lost in this new translation.
it sickens me to know that
everything i loved about the show
is lost due to recasting
and obvious scripting with the new folks.
it all sucks sucks sucks.
i hate the new Reno 911.

april 03 - not a child (II)

i'm not a child.
i don't know how many times
i need to repeat myself,
but i'm not a child.
yes, i may do childish things,
and yes, i may play childish mind games,
but no, i'm not a child.
i'm able to dress myself,
i'm able to take responsibility,
and i'm even able to know when
i'm being treated unfairly.
so go ahead,
keep spelling out words
you don't want me to hear,
and keep explaining things
slowly and loudly
like i'm an immigrant who doesn't know English.
i'll continue to be under the radar,
plotting your demise,
as only a child can.

april 04 - conclusion

slowly, but carefully,
we build up to the conclusion,
the inevitable result
of years of abuse.
it's amazing how a simple knife--
strong and sturdy,
always there to assist with tough meat--
can help redefine hundreds of lives
simultaneously:
my life,
your life,
the lives of our families,
the lives of emergency personel,
many of whom haven't seen
destruction of this sort
before in their lives.
it all comes to conclusion,
and the closure of the world comes
with Brian Williams at 6.

april 05 - palm sunday

wave the palms,
raise the banners,
shout Hosannah!
the LORD has come!

crowd the streets,
and sing for glory,
shout Hosannah!
the LORD has come!

we lift our praises
unto the LORD,
and praise the Messiah,
our saving grace!

wave the palms,
raise the banners,
shout Hosannah!
the LORD has come!

april 06 - dragging on and on

could these classes drag on any further?
it's gotten to the point where
being around my friends is
driving me crazy.
i just want to be at home,
away from the stresses of college life,
to be able to relax,
take a load off,
and be free from books and tests and worksheets.
sadly,
home life is more stressful than college,
so it's a matter of picking the lesser of two evils:
do i stay on campus, bored out of my mind,
or do i go home and contemplate murder-suicide?

april 07 - one step closer

i'm one step closer to destiny,
one step closer to achieving my goals,
and becoming more than
i ever thought i could be.
there's so much more left to go,
and the only thing i can do
is eventually work my way to the finish.
may 20,
i'm done with my first year of college,
and after that,
it's a matter of
letting everything fall right into place.

april 08 - last wednesday in Lent

the last wednesday in Lent.
normally, it isn't celebrated,
as tomorrow, Jesus is condemned
to death.
friday,
he dies,
saturday,
we mourn,
and sunday,
he rises.
but first must come wednesday,
and after this last wednesday in Lent,
we mourn and praise,
the death and resurrection
of our LORD.

I took liberties with scripture on this one. Sorry -- kf

april 09 - maunday thursday (or Jesus said)

Jesus said:
"eat of this bread,
and drink of this wine,
it is the body and blood
of my covenant,
given unto you.
do this in rememberance of me."

but, LORD,
what do you mean by rememberance?
you're simply serving us
the Passover meal.
are you leaving us, LORD?
where are you going
that you have to leave us?

Jesus said:
"tonight, one of you will betray me.
i will be humiliated,
condemned to death,
tortured and beaten.
i will die for the sake of mankind,
to save the whole world from sin."

but, LORD,
do you have to die for us?
surely there must be another way
for you to save humanity!
there must be other solutions
than death!

Jesus said:
"it is written that i must die.
but three days later,
i will rise,
fulfilling all of the prophecies of Isaiah.
you will go out and proclaim the Gospel,
that Jesus, LORD of all,
has risen from the dead."

but, LORD,
it's preposterous!
no one can rise from the dead!
how can you proclaim such blasphemy?

Jesus said:
"so it is written,
so it is done."

My girlfriend's pastor, who got his BA in English/Writing before attending seminary, absolutely loved this poem, and will have someone recite it for next year's Good Friday service. This poem includes the traditional Stations of the Cross as it's base. -- kf

april 10 - good friday (or Stations of the Cross)

JESUS IS CONDEMNED TO DEATH:
Pontius Pilate has decreed
that Jesus shall be put to death.
the crowd shouts,
"crucify him! crucify him!"
never before in my life
have i seen so many people rally
for one cause.
i can't help but be swept up
in the frenzy.
my cries of,
"crucify him!"
are lost on the crowd.
he healed on the Sabbath!
he claims to be the Messiah,
the Son of God!
surely he must die!

JESUS IS GIVEN HIS CROSS:
now begins the shameful walk toward death.
this blasphemer has been given his cross,
and must carry it to Calvary,
where he will soon be nailed, hanged, and dead.
the crowd cheers his inevitable fate,
and jeer at his transgressions.
he starts his walk, and the crowd follows.
who is this man to say that he will save mankind
when he can't save himself from the cross?
we can't wait to see what will become of this.

JESUS FALLS THE FIRST TIME:
i've never heard the crowd cheer so loudly
that when Jesus fell on the road.
for a moment, i was swept up in the joy,
until i saw the look in his eyes.
his eyes were filled with pain and anguish,
as if the weight of the entire world was
on his shoulders.
for a split second, i wanted to reach out
and help him up,
but the Roman guards seized that opportunity,
pulling him up to his feet,
replacing his cross,
and telling him to march.
i kicked myself for that moment of pity.
how care i sympathize with a criminal?

JESUS MEETS HIS MOTHER:
Jesus sees a woman on the side of the road.
the woman is filled with grief,
and one must conclude that the woman is his mother.
how distraught she looks,
seeing her son being whipped and beaten,
carrying his own cross to his death.
pity wells up inside me again:
in the midst of our cheers for his death,
we forgot that he is someone's son.
his mother can't even look at him.
but Jesus is quickly torn away from her.
this feeling of pity lingers for a moment longer,
but this only fuels my rage!
crucify him already!

SIMON OF CYRENE CARRIES THE CROSS:
look at Jesus,
he's too weak to carry the cross
all the way to Calvary.
my lingering feeling of regret
urges me to stand up and take the cross,
provide some relief for him.
thankfully, a man on the other side of the road
is pulled from the crowd,
and ordered to carry the cross.
simultaneously,
i wanted to cheer and cry
because i had not been chosen.
my cry is growing weaker,
crucify him. just get it over with.

VERONICA WIPES THE FACE OF JESUS:
look at the blood,
look at the sweat,
this man might die before he reaches the hill.
a young woman comes from the crowd,
offering to wipe his face with her linens.
i can't hear the exchange,
but this young woman cleans the face of Jesus,
and retreats back into the crowd.
would this have happened
if the man had not been forced to help?
my cry grows ever weaker:
crucify him,
i can't bear to see this dragged on any longer.

JESUS FALLS THE SECOND TIME:
i cried out when Jesus fell the second time.
people turned and scowled at me.
for a moment, i can't imagine why they would,
then i realized:
my cry was not of praise for his weakness,
but rather of pity.
i have to constantly remind myself,
"this man is a criminal!"
but everytime he takes a step,
i'm less and less sure of the charges.
i tell myself,
"this man has healed on the Sabbath!
he claims to be the Son of God!"
but as i see this man,
bleeding and broken,
marching to his death,
i wonder,
"what if what he says is true?"

JESUS MEETS THE DAUGHTERS OF JERUSALEM:
if there is one thing to stop me
from completely feeling sorry for this man,
it is these wailing women
who have been following him,
crying and lamenting over him.
if these women hadn't been here this whole time,
i would have left, sickened by these sights.
but these women, and the way they worship him,
makes a part of me can't wait to see him die,
just to see what these women will do.
suddenly, Jesus turns to them and says,
"Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me;
weep for yourselves and for your children."
i am shocked:
what does he mean by this?

JESUS FALLS THE THIRD TIME:
to be honest,
i didn't see Jesus fall the third time.
i saw him falter, and that was enough for me.
i turned away, and heard the crowd cheer louder than ever.
one man standing next to me shouted,
"crucify him right here!
he'll never make it to Calvary!"
a sickening pit fell in my stomach.
this man started off as a criminal,
but in my heart, he's becoming much more.
i don't think i can stand to
see and hear him die.
someone, anyone,
just carry him and his cross to the hill,
and let's finish this and go home.

JESUS IS STRIPPED OF HIS GARMENTS:
finally!
we've reached the hill!
my hatred for this criminal has been renewed!
it all seems worth it now,
the whips and the beatings,
this man deserves to die!
the guards violently strip him,
and my heart stops.
through the shroud of his clothes,
i had no idea the carnage that the whips
have done to his body.
i can see muscles and bones,
and blood crusting over his wounds.
the pit in my stomach
threatens to release itself,
and i have to turn away yet again.
please, God,
let this be over with soon.

JESUS IS NAILED TO THE CROSS:
the clang of metal on metal
has never sickened me this much before.
i can hear Jesus cry out in pain.
i can't bear to look at it.
i can only turn away
and cry out along with him
inside my head.
why doesn't this man,
this Son of God,
just save himself already?

JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS:
"ELOI, ELOI, LAMA SABACHTHANI?"
"My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?"
the cries of pain and anguish
that flows from his mouth
makes me openly weep for him.
a man asks me,
"what is wrong with you?
why do you weep for this criminal?"
i can't help but answer him:
"he is not a criminal.
he is the Son of God, the Messiah."
the man frowns on me.
"we should crucify YOU next!"
he screams.
but honestly,
when Jesus took his last breath,
and they pierced his side to ensure death,
i wished it was me upon that cross,
and not him.

JESUS' BODY IS REMOVED FROM THE CROSS:
the crowd departs,
content with their bloodlust.
for some reason,
i'm compelled to remain at the cross.
the man is dead,
but what will become of him now?
the guards take him down off of the cross,
and lay him in the arms of his mother.
how sickening!
how dare they lay the corpse of Jesus
into the arms of his mother!
isn't she grieving enough?
as much as i wish to stand up
and kill these guards,
i'm too stricken with my own grief
to so much as stand up and yell.
this man was the Son of God,
exactly as he said he was,
and we've killed him.
i can't bear to look at his ashen body,
blood crusting over every last one of his wounds,
lying limp in his mother's arms.
i can only collapse on the ground
and cry and wail
like the daughters of Jerusalem.
i now understand why they cried like they did.
this man was more than man,
but we'll never know what he'll accomplish now.

JESUS IS LAID IN THE TOMB:
Jesus' final resting place,
a freshly carved tomb in the mountainside.
the women cover him with
oils and incense,
and say their final prayers.
i linger a while longer,
watching as the remaining few people
slowly slink away into the night,
and the stone is rolled over the mouth of the tomb,
sealing his fate.
some say that in three days,
he'll rise again,
but after watching the events that transpired,
it's highly unlikely.

april 11 - God's calling

God,
i hear you calling,
but i'm not sure where to turn.
do i want to finish college,
then turn toward seminary,
or do i want to wait and see
what becomes of this feeling
inside of me,
urging me to go out and
explore the theological world?
i mean,
i've always had a huge interest in religion,
any religion,
and it would make sense to pursue these dreams,
but for some reason,
actually going to school
and studying them is discouraging.
God, help me sort out these thoughts,
and point me in the direction
that you want me to go,
for it is thy will,
not my will.
the more i trust in you,
the lighter i feel,
for i've been given wings like eagles,
where i can run and not grow weary.
Amen.

april 12 - easter sunday

look, the stone is rolled away,
Jesus Christ has risen today!
see the clothes are folded here,
Christ the LORD has fled from here!
do not look for the dead here,
Jesus is alive today!
go and tell the world the news,
Jesus Christ has risen today!

april 13 - can't get it from home

i don't like being
trivialized,
having my thoughts and concerns
blown to the wayside
because you feel like
it can't happen to your kids.
do you even realize
what your daughter has done
to herself?
do you even realize
what she says about
life and existance?
and yet you play the victim:
"she's only acting this way
because she hates me."

no shit.

she hates you because
you don't listen.
she hates you because
you treat her depression
as a "phase".
she doesn't open up to therapy
because you know
everyone who works there,
and could still easily
pull some strings and
get some info.

it's hard to get help,
when you know you can't
get it from home.

This is the third installment of an ode or elegy for the beloved Internet. The Internet connection in my res hall is TERRIBLE. The first two installments are from January, when the Internet was out three straight days (this would be the fourth installment, had the Internet not come back late on the third day). This is by no means a serious poem (though given my Internet addiction, it might very well be). -- kf

april 14 - oh internet (III)

oh internet! you bitch!
for forty days, i was without you,
slaving away, trying to find
something to fill my time that
wasn't involving my computer.
and on sunday, and on monday,
i was thrilled to be thrust
back into your arms.
yet on tuesday,
when i have nothing better to do tonight
than to mindlessly browse your wares,
alas! you decided to play games!
my heart longs to live with you
in all of your glory,
wasting away in front of the screen yet again!
but you turn your back on me,
shoulder cold,
teasing me with your delights,
yet witholding them for my pleasure.
all i can think of to do now is to
study, shower, and shave,
all of which i don't enjoy doing,
but do out of necessity.
curse you, internet bitch!
if i didn't enjoy everything you had to offer,
i would wish death upon you.
but i'm addicted to your wares,
and wait longingly for your return.