Food for Thought-A Graveyard for Lunatics

 

A graveyard for lunatics,
all lined up,
with a certain crooked caché,
fugitives from their funerals,
in their own special ways,
hidden beneath leaves of lunacy,
a short distance from the waves,
these delusional hooligans,
come out to play,
in the heat of winter,
or a cold summer’s day.

–Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-How to Pray

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There’s just something about
Sitting down to pray,
When you let go,
With nothing to say,
Be there and listen,
Forget the stupid day,
Block out the world,
Keep the wolves at bay
Contemplate what’s around you,
The b flat harmony on nature’s page,
God told Jacob to take a nap,
Find holy rocks upon which your head can lay,
To see the angels walk,
There’s something about,
Laying down to pray,
Stand up, sit down, or climb a tree,
To pray requires no special way.

–Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-A Poem for a Funeral

I’m conducting my first funeral in my new parish tomorrow.

No More Dread

Tomorrow I’ll stand,
Dressed in a tie,
To mourn the dead,
Whose mortal remains,
Will for forever lie,
Scattered beneath,
Ocean and sky,
I’ll say the prayers,
Which must be read,
Those words of scripture,
Are always in my head,
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
Will indeed be said,
For he who knows,
No more dread.

–Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-Sweet Taters and Yams

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That Ruby-I-am!
That Ruby-I-am!
I do not like
That Ruby-I-am!
Do I like
Sweet taters and yams?
Heck no!
Ruby-I-am!
I do not like sweet taters and yams.
Will you eat them when you grow hair?
Would you eat them in your underwear?
I will not eat them when I grow hair.
I will never eat them in my underwear.
I will not eat them anywhere.
I do not like sweet taters and yams,
Ruby-I-am.
Would you eat them on the ground?
Would you like them in Pamlico Sound?
I will not eat them on the ground.
Naw. I will not eat them in Pamlico Sound.
I will not eat them when I grow hair.
I will never eat them in my underwear.
I will not eat them anywhere.
I do not like sweet taters and yams,
Ruby-I-am.
Would you eat them in a pulpit?
Or sitting beside a tourist?
I will not eat them in a pulpit.
Nor will I eat them with a tourist.
I will not eat them on the ground.
I will not eat them in Pamlico Sound.
I will not eat them when I grow hair.
I will not eat them in my underwear,
I will not eat sweet taters and yams,
I do not like them, Ruby-I-am.

–Richard Bryant

with great inspiration from Dr. Seuss

Food for Thought-Your Own Personal Beth-El (Poetic Thoughts on Genesis 28:10-19 a)

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Your Own Personal Beth-El

When you come to your Beth-el,
For a night time place to dwell,
When the sun has just set,
Your soul aches with sweat,
No animals can be heard to creep,
As you lay your pretty little head down to sleep,
That’s when the ladder appears,
Before your eyes, crystal clear,
What rung are you on?
What direction have the angels gone?
Still they go up and down?
Does God’s voice boom all around?
Do you know, know it now?
The Lord is in your place,
Standing right before your face,
In this moment, where you are,
As you drive your late model car,
Or walk that precious dog,
Step from Jacob’s fog,
Do you know it?
Have you heard?
At the sack race,
The rat race,
The air force base,
Even when we think he’s been displaced,
The Lord is in this place!

–Richard Bryant