How Long?

All right that’s enough bird-fun. Back to work, people.

This poem is based on Job 7:19-21 which reads,

“How long will you not look away from me, 
nor leave me alone till I swallow my spit? 
If I sin, what do I do to you, 
you watcher of mankind? 
Why have you made me your mark? 
Why have I become a burden to you? 
Why do you not pardon my transgression 
and take away my iniquity?
For now I shall lie in the earth; 
you will seek me, 
but I shall not be.”

You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

How long are you going to stare at me,
When will you unlock your look, let it go?
Blink, or just give me a moment to swallow?

If I sin, what does that do to you,
You silent starer,
Who sees all, everyone everywhere?

You sufferer sniper
Of pitiful blighters like me.
Why fix me in the crosshairs of your gun?
What on earth did I do?
What have I done?
Is this some game,
Your idea of fun,
To show who’s lost, who’s won?

What wrong did I do or do you see
That you’re so angry with me?
Why won’t you let my sin go?
Or why not take it away?
I can’t keep going
I won’t last one more day.
The earth will be the clothes I put on
If you look for me then
It will be too late
You’ll have waited too long
There’ll be nothing left
And I’ll be gone.

© Randall Edwards 2021

There Was a Day

Job 1:6 Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan also came among them.

You may listen to me read the sonnet via the player below.

In the land of a wise, eastern nation,
Lived a man with an average name like Bob
Who came up in a conversation
Between The Adversary and God.

Bob was a great man and good, for he would
Consecrate his children regularly
Make a sacrifice for each for they could
Have sinned or blessed out God unknowingly.

Now there was a day (his eldest’s birthday),
When trusting Bob’s sincere consecration
That God gave all Bob had and loved away
To The Adversary’s examination.

What can you do when you’re held to your word,
But release what was given and bless the Lord?

© Randall Edwards 2021. This poem is for Christ’s church. If it is helpful, please feel free to copy or reprint in church bulletins, read aloud, or repost. I only ask that an attribution be cited to myself (Randall Edwards) and this blog (backwardmutters.com).

Behemoth

Under the lotus plants he lies, in the shelter of the reeds and in the marsh. For his shade the lotus trees cover him; the willows of the brook surround him. – Job 40:21-24

You may listen to me read the poem via the player below.

I wonder if Monet ever thought
That among the two hundred and fifty
Paintings of water lilies that he caught 
Something more than his pond in Giverny--
That lurking beneath the pond’s surface, there
Might be something in the edge’s dark hues,
A hiding hippopotamus somewhere,
Silent in the shade of deep greens and blues?
And I wonder if the leaning into
The beauty of that place with a palette knife
Whether Behemoth rose up, charged, broke through 
The still surface with the terrors of life:
His mother dying or his wife's last breath,
To swallow him again in grief and death?

© Randall Edwards 2021

Artwork: Claude Monet, “Le Bassin aux nymphéas, harmonie vert”