Poems for the 1980s

FROM EAST TO WEST

It's ten after 2:00 in the afternoon,
Ten after 2:00 for me
It's three hours later for you, my friend,
What were you doing at 3:00?

So much more time for the sun to shine,
for me there are three hours more
before I can be where you are right now.
What was it like at 4:00?

Where I am now you've already been
I don't even know if I'll be alive
to do what you've done three hours ago
by the time I get to 5:00

It's ten after 2:00 in the afternoon,
ten after 2:00 for me
It's three hours later for you my friend
will I even make it to 3:00?

WISHES COME IN WERES NOT WASES

Wishes come in "I Wish I Weres"
Not in "I Wish I Wases"
It's not proper to wish we was
we must wish we were becauses:
A were can make a wish come true
but that's not true of wases?
Or is it because the English books
pick on the doesn'ts and doeses
and wishes have nothing to do with weres?
So, take heart, little wases!
The grammar books are really to blame
for wishes dependent on becauses.

HURRY UP WITH ME, GOD

Oh hurry up with me, God
Oh, God, please hurry up
I'm living just to be with You
so make my life speed up.
I can hardly wait, Lord,
each time I hear Your Name
it causes me to love you more
and I want out of this game.
The earth is such a heavy thing
it causes me to fall
when I know I'm meant for better things
not earthly things at all.
So tell me that You want me soon
Oh God please say you do!
Oh hurry up with me, God,
I WANT TO BE WITH YOU!

WHO IS THIS BODY GOD MADE?

Who is this body God made,
this person who I am?
Did He make me a teacher,
or am I responsible for that?
He gave me legs for walking,
but running's what I do
He gave me love for sharing,
then why don't I want to?
Did God make me fat or thin,
or did I make me this way?
Did He plan out this moment
or did I have all the say?
Where do all my thoughts come from?
Who is the one to blame?
Do they originate above the clouds
and fall down like the rain?
Am I actually looking back upon
who I think is me
or am I really buried there,
borrowing this person that I see?

YOU WASTED YOURSELF ON ME, GOD

You wasted Yourself on me, God,
You wasted Yourself on me.
Your beauty spreads across the sky,
Your love's enough to make me cry,
but You wasted Yourself on me.

You say "Live, Cath, give it a try!"
I say "No, God, I want to die."
You say "Cheer up, give your problems to Me."
I shake my head. It's plain to see
You wasted Yourself on me.

You wasted Yourself on me, God,
You wasted Yourself on me.
So I may live, Your Son did die.
It was a gift! Yet I wonder why
You wasted Yourself on me.

Oh God Your love shows me You care
that in spite of my hate, with Jesus I'm heir!
You never ask one thing from me
except to Your Name I bend my knee.
Oh You wasted Yourself on me!

You wasted Yourself on me, God,
You wasted Yourself on me.
I keep hating; for death I am waiting.
I know I am hopeless. How mind-boggling to see
YOU STILL WASTE YOURSELF ON ME!

HANG IN THERE
Hang in there
three simple words
can only be said from an easy chair
with feet propped high, toes in the air,
disguised with concern and care.
Ears themselves don't know their meaning
they sit on either end
of a complacent smile, or a simper grin
of a contented human being.
Such lonely words are Hang In There
solitary beasts
suggesting hands holding fast
to whatever they can reach.
How well I know
Hang In There
No easy chair for me.
Hang In There is a perpetual thing
demanding perpetual feats;
a command performance of effort
every single time
not once a week or twice a month
but every second's a climb!
How we take Right Now for granted
if Easy Chairs could only see
how difficult Right Now can be
for a Hang In There like me.

THE WARMTH AND BREATHING

I love the warmth and breathing
of the colors on her nose
the soft, the cuddly
feelings wiggling to my toes
as she snuffles breathy noises
like the summer wind that blows
or uses, like my fingers,
around my ears, her buckskin nose.

WILD HORSES OF WHITE RIVER

Wild horses; sturdy, strong
against White River wind
carve a stand as mist and gale
lace ready ears; thick, pinned.

Wild horses, sturdy, strong,
lift hirsute flanks well-trained
in a savage Yukon country
then toss sage heads unchained

Wild horses, sturdy, strong,
live ever-onward, free
May your lives be blessed and certain
as well, your sanctioned lea.

IF THE WIND WERE A BRUSH

If the wind were a brush and painted
as it went along the street
would it be able to illustrate
the people it would meet?
To draw a picture on their skin
then go its merry way
continue with its masterpiece
until the end of day?
Just scatter color everywhere
on everything it passed.
Reds and yellows, purples, too
on hills and trees and grass!

AT THE BAT

The dust blows up around first base
The sun melts in the trees
and as I stand
with bat in hand
My legs shake at the knees

I give the bat a practice swing
My lungs fill up with air
then real slow
I let it go
Relaxed, my breathing's fair.

I'm ready now, my head is clear,
The ball arches the plate.
I muster grit
to make the hit
The pitch is low; I wait.

The muscles ripple down my arms
I know my strength by heart.
With all I've got
I know I ought
To tear the ball apart.

I swing again with arms of steel
The power fills my hands
the ball, for spite,
defies my might.
Two feet away it lands.

































{/b}{/b}