On Your Stone I Will Stand 

On Your stone I will stand, where the strangling swell

and the bellows of care break upon Your good word - ­

raised to life by Your death, by Your scorning of Hell,

having stood, made to stand by the worth of the Lord.

On Your law I will dwell lest, mendacious, my urge

should prove ignorant, unto my loss, of Your good

ere Your grace in the mien of my will should emerge

to redeem what I do, transmutate what I would.

On Your Son I will gaze, though the umbrage of night

fills my sight with distractions, illusions of dread. ­

Yet the shade must dissolve, touched by fulminant light

dove-­descending, reflecting unveiled from my head.

On Your mount I will reign, where no Baal has been raised,

in the Name of the Firstborn enthroned; and my rod

shall point nations and kings to the dwelling of praise

where the merciful Christ sits as sovereign and God.





This is what happens when you ask me for one of my "recipes"

Mom: So send me your 'recipe'.

Me: Ha!

okay. . .I put salmon in a bowl. The first time it was two 14.something ounce pouches, this time it was four seven ounce cans. Four was more than I really wanted, but three wasn't quite enough. I blame the metric system. As a binder most recipes call for an egg per 14-15 ounces of salmon (so 2 eggs, either way). I prefer chicken eggs for this application, and strenuously counsel against emu, mainly since the unusual shell color won't match your kitchen decor.  I used sweet onion the first time, green onion this time, most of a bundle sliced about as thinly as I could manage quickly. So, you know, if you don't have mad knife skills, reserve an hour for this step. At this point there's onion salt, black pepper, paprika, garlic, basil, and Old Bay involved. I measured nothing. I regret nothing. Next I would normally sacrifice a goat to Poseidon to ensure the success of my salmon patties; however, I am given to understand that the thoroughly thoughtful people at Old Bay do this at the production plant and, therefore, that recipes including their product are automatically covered. The things you learn on Food Network. Mayonnaise is next, as if you were making a tuna salad sort of thing, enough to get it pretty wet. I also include a line of mustard and a little smoked horseradish sauce, since I have it on hand, and I couldn't see how it could possibly go wrong. Most recipes call for butter or vegetable or olive oil, and not for the mayo/mustard/etc. . . The problem is that most recipes I've looked at call for so little that it'd be next to impossible for them to not turn out over-dry. I suppose if you were going to skimp on the bread crumbs it might be proportionate, but somehow I doubt it. Anyway, I like the additional flavor from the dressing(s). Do not add the bread crumbs (I've been using seasoned, but I think I'm going to switch next time to plain to give some of the other flavors more breathing room). But, as I said, don't add the bread crumbs. In case I wasn't clear, don't add the bread crumbs! Mix everything thoroughly in the bowl until you've got a wet, sloppy mess, something a two year old might make (either mischievously or anatomically) and throw it in the fridge for a couple hours to . . .meld? mingle? buy the lettuce a drink and get the bacon's phone number? When you're ready to eat, pull the bowl out and start stirring in the bread crumbs. I've used most of a regular sized (not big) canister both times, at least in part to make it go farther, but all you really need is to sop up enough of the juiciness that it'll form into patties. Throw a cast iron skillet on to the stovetop. No, not literally, you twit. Yes, a literal cast iron skillet, no don't actually throw it. Turn the heat up to medium-high. This is a seven on my stove, though it should be noted that despite my awesomeness, those dials do not (yet) go to 11. Adjust your controls accordingly. Add a couple tablespoons of butter to the skillet. While the skillet and butter are heating up, start grabbing handfuls of the salmon mixture, rolling it into appropriately sized balls (tee hee) and flattening them into patties. I've been going slider-sized recently (3/4-1" thick, 2-3" diameter). Set the patties on a platter as you form them, or on a cat, if the cat is recently bathed. Two or three per person seems to be about right at these sizes. Salmon patties, not cats. When the cast iron is good and toasty, lay the patties in  close to the middle and then Leave Them The Hell Alone for a number of minutes I forgot to count. Basically, at this point, you're waiting for That Smell, the smell of a good dark crisp forming on the bottom. While this is going on do two things; turn on the fan on your stove, if you haven't done so, since you stand a decent chance of setting off the smoke detector, and prep your buns/plates. Kosher dill pickles are the best side I've discovered so far, though the Normandy blend mixed veggies were a close second. As to the buns, I've played with mayo and cheese and mustard and red pepper paste and balsamic vinegar and other things and the conclusion I have come to is this: Hot Sauce. You must have hot sauce on these. Tabasco, Garlic Tabasco, Buffalo Tabasco, Frank's Red Hot Wing Sauce, any by itself brushed onto the bun or mixed with mayo and dolloped. Pick your favorite, but these salmon patties really shine when they're dressed with a little heat. For buns I used the store brand slider buns the first time and the Amana small white dinner rolls, which were perfect, the second time. So, I guess my advice here is to exploit the presence of whatever small cultural-religious ethnic minority with a penchant for baked goods exists in your neck of the woods. HEY, WHY ARE YOU STILL READING THIS?!?!?! FLIP THOSE SALMON PATTIES! Geez, pay attention, would you? They should have a good dark crisp on the bottom. Let them go about as long on the second side, and then turn the heat off and move them to the outside edge of the pan to finish heating through while you finish up the buns. Um. After that. . .well, if I have to spell out the assembly step for you, I probably shouldn't have let you play with a stove. . .or knife . . .or hot sauce earlier. And just so we're clear, this is what you get for asking me for my 'recipe'. You're welcome.

Posted here for your entertainment.

Psalm 54

Psalm 54

O God! By Thy Name save! In pow'r
my name uphold as Thine and true.
Prayers Thee implore; Thine ear unto
my voice attend in needful hour.

They know me not, yet rise averse -
These violent men, arrayed in strife,
who would pour out my crimson life,
who deem Thy countenance a curse.

God is my help! Through stricken woes
He has sustained my feeble soul,
will recompense vile villains whole,
annihilate my faithless foes!

I sacrifice in joy, and bend
to Thy great Name, in thanks, my knee!
Delivered from my enemy,
delights my eye to see his end!






O! hallowed Light, and radiant,
in You no darkness found,
what hope upholds Your penitent,
whom Your great wings surround!
In Your embrace no arrogant,
no scoffer, rude his sound,
finds portion. Yet Your testament
in us sees light abound.

Perdition has enveloped some
(such vessels thrown to break);
while thrones and powers argue from
the foot of their mistake.
Vain vie they with imperium:
Your breath sets them a-quake!
The darkness has not overcome,
will never light o'ertake.

Those called to Christ from ages old
are sealed unto Your Name
as lambs of one bespeckled fold,
nor lone, nor lost, nor lame.
Burns, bright against the bitter cold
of Death, Your altar-flame.
The darkness has not taken hold,
it has no worthy claim.

We flock beneath the stainèd rood
and, by indwelling Light,
see purchased for us every good,
inherit princely right.
What burning myst'ry that we should
in grace know Your delight!
The darkness has not understood,
abjured to outer night.

In radiance at temple-throne
Your saints, arrayed, will stand,
grand pillars hewn of marble-stone
engraved by Your right hand
with God's, the City's, and Your own
new Name - our living brand
in halls where night is never known;
and we shall understand!
AMDG / 5.5.14

*this poem revolves around the possible translations of the word " katalambano" in John 1:5, which may be rendered "overtaken," "comprehended," "laid hold of," "overcome," etc. . .

Burning Eyes

Burning Eyes
(Micah 7:7-10)

I have ordained my burning eyes
to watch; the Lord must soon arise
and bear salvation forth. He comes
and, faithful, hears my yearning cries!

Take no delight, mine enemy.
Though I should fall, these eyes yet see
what deep'ning shadows cannot veil:
I mount, alight eternally!

For sin I bear His wrath, and right,
yet He will draw me into Light,
will plead for me His righteousness,
and render justice in His sight!

Lay low your eyes, fool foe, in shame,
and still that tongue which mocks my claim.
These eyes will see you trampled down
as filth beneath His promised Name!


Psalm 43

Psalm 43

Vindicate me, God Almighty, deliver me -
there is a nation that honors You not,
there is a man of deceit, and false-wrought.
Plead for my soul against all their calamity!

You are the God of my Strength! Tell me, why have You
cast out, rejected your servant made low?
Why must I mourn, and know intimate woe
under the yoke of my enemy bound anew?

Send out Your light and Your truth; I will guided be
up to the hill You have hallowed and held,
into the tent where Your presence has dwelled.
Draw me in Truth, by Your light only may I see.

I will draw near to the altar of God Most High:
He is the joy overflowing my cup!
Play on the lyre, and in praise lift Him up!
You, my God! Only God! O, my God! Hear my cry!

Why do you groan in despair in my innermost?
What has disturbed you, my soul? Give Him praise
whom you have trusted, again, who has raised
light to your countenance, God of all heaven's host!



Wisdom Calls

Wisdom Calls

Wisdom, over din and clamor,
calls her suitors,"Turn aside!
Come! I will requite your ardor
as you will with me abide.
In my bower lie the words, which
jealous kings and augurs lust,
full of increase, fearfully rich,
for my lover held in trust."

"Fear the Lord and you will find me.
Find me, other treasures pale.
Gold will rust, fresh wells draw bloody
ere the righteous foot should fail.
Are you simple? Are you senseless?
My words are the faultless path.
Surfeit Folly reaps in violence - 
flee, ere she be stuft with wrath."

"Heed no more the songs of Folly - 
perfumed words dig open graves.
Blood, her milk, and dust her honey,
all her appetites enslave.
Better crust of bread and water
than the wine of Folly's press.
Better still the yearling slaughter
humbly offered, meet to bless."

"Turn aside! My feast is ready
if you would be satisfied,
filled with Truth, of Prudence heady,
in fair Counsel edified.
Ere the dawn of all creation
I have dwelt as God's delight!
Heed my gracious invitation - 
seize on Life and dwell in Light."

Wisdom whispers, still and secret,
"Lean not on your own device.
Christ will keep your pilgrim spirit - 
let no brazen claim entice.
This is faith: He is your treasure.
Glorify your joyous prize,
chase His steps, fill up His measure,
know Him and be counted wise.


The Armies of the Lord

The Armies of the Lord

See! The LORD conscripts His armies' might,
assembles His sworn banner-men to fight!
All earthly force His due,
all heav'nly ranks to war! Unto
His purposes they march, as just His right.

Swarming fleas and flies to choke and blind -
He flooded foes, and none could respite find.
His locusts stripped the land,
and frogs enveiled at His command,
consuming all whereof He had the mind.

Wroth, He summoned forth a black-flamed ghost,
and left no aping sorcerer his boast.
Each firstborn life cut down
from utter calf to princely crown;
unstoppable, one hand His vengeful host.

Raised, great Pharaoh's chariot and horse
were sent to set the Tribes their promised course.
God purposed not to slay
His own but, that remembered day,
to feast His fish with such a mighty force.

See! the armies of the LORD are raised
against the hardened heart withholding praise!
No power may refuse
but is expent as He may choose -
life, e'en in death, exalts Him endless days.



Unless My Sins

Unless My Sins

If my sins have not nailed You to the cross
(O! Christ! O! Precious Christ!) 
they surely yet adhere me fast to Hell. 
I cannot purchase grace, nor due wrath sell 
(My God! Most Holy God!). 
Your mercy spends my guilt – what happy loss! 

You are enthroned where mercy, justice kiss
(O! Christ! O! Son of God!) 
upon the crux of imputation, crowned 
unendingly, made worthy by Your wound 
(O slaughtered, living Lamb!) 
to open Glory’s gates, seal the Abyss. 

Confession on our tongues is blood and bread
(O! Christ! O! Sacrifice!) 
spilt, split for souls undone by faith ill-spent. 
True faith bestow, inspirit to repent 
(O! Spirit! Holy Ghost!) 
and find sin’s death in our undying Head. 

Quitclaim, my soul, your striving, sin, your self,
(O! ever-hungry beast!) 
all fork-tongued accusation. In His death 
Christ robbed your trespasses of bitter breath, 
(O! Christ! Victorious!) 
there left them, gathered you unto Himself. 

Lord Jesus, sanctify this mystery
(O! Christ! Revealing Light!) 
in me – this righteous covenant of wine, 
all joy of faith, eternal life, none mine 
(O! Just and Merciful!) 
save that my sins have nailed You to the Tree.