Door

Wide-open Door, beneath Your bow 

I lean; Your crossèd frame

all tremor, torrent, tempest's blow

abjures, true-speaks Your claim.

Deep-stainèd Portal, hyssop-kissed

and drenched in knife-drawn life, 

by You souls flee the tombs and twists

of sin and guilt and grief.

And through You, Gate, must any flee 

who prize what cannot stain; 

who grasp at immortality, 

Yourself thereby to gain.

Beneath Your lintel, blessèd Door

I lean, and never fall. 

Add my own sanguine drops to Yours; 

See, here, I bring Your awl. 

~

AMDG

Be Jealous

Be Jealous

Thy jealousy befits Thee, Groom,

and zeal for Thine intended.

She is Thy glory, meant to bloom

as faithfully attended.

Her raiment is Thine arete

imputed for her cover,

and she adorns the chaste array

of her one Lord and Lover.

The swarming locust would devour,

consume, with naught remaining;

would strip immodest in fell hour,

then over-heap with shaming.

The covenant upon Thy breath

grants to Thy bride assurance -

Thy Word condemns their horde to death,

securing her endurance.

The roving lion tears and rends;

he roars and, birthing terror,

seeks shadowed souls to apprehend

by piercing doubt and error.

O! tender Shepherd seize his beard -

smite, shatter teeth asunder!

Draw forth from carcass once-afear'd

a sweet eye-brightening plunder.

The scarlet dragon stalks Thy bride,

her scion son to swallow.

He vomits forth a mighty tide

and crowns the beasts which follow.

Descend his chain from Heaven's vault,

stoke high his due infernal.

Shield us against his wroth assault,

enfold our souls eternal.

Be jealous for our sake and Thine,

Thou long-anticipated,

until we drink the wedding wine,

in ardor consummated.

Stay tyrant, rogue, and fiend without

in hungry night and hollow -

Just, bitter tears to slake their drought,

naught save their tongues to swallow.

~

AMDG

1/31/2016

No Half-Heart Love

No Half-Heart Love

Do not regard great Sodom so, my friend;

no half-heart love will 'scape the angel's rain.

The double-minded soul cleaves not in twain;

drags all to bitter dust in bitter end.

My brother, do not grasp at ash and salt;

set full your eye on Zoar as you flee.

No half-heart love will enter rest, nor be

accounted on the Lord's day free of fault.

Do not, dear soul, disdain the warning word,

nor so esteem your grave-goods laid in lust.

God's vengeance, much as grace, deserves full trust;

no half-heart love glad hails the holy Lord.

My son, flee the destruction coming, pent

longsuffering against a loveless rule.

A half-heart love possesses every fool

who, hearing, yet refuses to repent.

Do not, belov'd, mistake Gomorrah's lights

for aught but conflagration, ruin, death.

The half-heart love is chaff before the breath

of Him who calls whole hearts to mountain heights.

~

1/31/2016

AMDG

Dirt and Air

Dirt and Air

Adam was scrapèd together, our father,
of untrodden mud in an untended garden;
Filled with the wind of the Spirit, anointed
divine over dumb, as befitting a warden.

Scoffers and scorns, in our wisdom exchanged we
that task and that image for mundane devising.
Stripping the flesh from the dust and the life from
the Breath, we uncovered our idol and prizing.

Clay without sculpting, directionless breezes,
all emptied of aught save what reason may hallow;
Wresting our souls from their due veneration
we worship a fart, and bow down to what follows.
~

< sarcasm >

Sonnet

Attend, ye gods!                                                  

                               How wise, how wise are we!

to read “shall not” and hear, unsaid, “except.”

We have divined such grace as may accept

what elders, weak of conscience, could but flee.

Sit at our feet, ye wise!                                     

                                                        For tyranny

is born of certitude! Ought tales of Hell

not breed a fruitful doubt, or judgment quell

when truth of circumstance shall set you free?

Give praise, ye saints!                                     

                                          Who grasp the mystery

to overcome that last persistent sin

of loving not one's truest self within.

Choose blessings worthy of your jubilee!

In nomine God's liberality,

tolerant Christ, and Spirit's bonhomie.

~

< /sarcasm >

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.

~

AMDG

Recipe

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.