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Three Poems by Karen Stroker
PICTURE and BIOGRAPHY of
Poet - Photographer Karen Stroker
The author of this poem is Karen Stroker. She lives in Texas with her husband and daughter. They have two dogs and both she and her husband are registered nurses. Karen's hobbies include cooking, camping, swimming, tubing rivers, traveling, photography, reading, and writing poems.
Karen's religious views have evolved from special revelatory experiences. These encounters have brought deeper meaning to her life and set her upon a spiritual quest. She peruses the current Epochal Revelation of Truth and feels it speaks to her soul. It does correlate with the divine information she has gleaned through her studies and experiences.
E-mail Karen Stroker
See this Gallery of Karen Stroker's Photography
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Poem: "The Beauty of a Flower"
C2007 Karen Stroker
The beauty of a flower is obvious to see.
Upon Closer inspection it reveals life to me.
Colors and texture fuse to one another,
Just as a couple clings tightly to each other.
The curves and lines dissolve into a sea,
Giving form to our thoughts about what we believe.
Transcendence of opinions is an absolute wonder,
And the perfection of a flower exposes life’s thunder.

Poem: "Chance or Fate?"
C2007 Karen Stroker
Is Life really chance or is it fate?
My experiences have led me straight to its gate.
So I begin this daunting task,
And I remove my earthly mask.
Upon thinking of higher things,
I see a pattern and lots of synergy pings.
I realize freewill can run amok,
Then, there’s the issue surrounding good luck.
The truth of God and his Divine Plan
Speaks to my soul and tells me I can.
I can believe that I’m guided through fate,
And once again, I AM at the same open gate.

Poem: "What Love truly is"
C2007 Karen Stroker
Between a man and a woman why does love lose it’s fizz?
I surmise this occurs from failure to forgive.
For love cannot exist without an inner urge,
With God and man love does truly merge.
It originates from the first source and center,
But when man applies it to man it seems to splinter.
Are we still too immature to understand?
A heart filled with rage doesn’t perceive a loving hand.
We are all led in the direction we should go.
Yet, men persist in making other men their foe.
Brotherly love is the only real answer.
The Universal Father’s love is the great enhancer.
Putting aside all the old ways and fear,
Reveals the love of a Father who is always near.

Poem: "Sanctified"
Copyright 2004 by Dr. Linda L. Bielowski, Ph.D
Introduction: I had been thinking about walking to a country
dairy with my grandfather in Iowa. Over and over, we would make this walk
together. As I was lost in memories, I had images of milk bottles lined-up
and ready to be cleansed and filled. This, of course, reminded me of how we
line up at the altar, waiting to be washed of our sins and filled with the
Holy Spirit. Actually, there are two stories being told in the piece and it
included a great deal of symbolism.
"SANCTIFIED"
Heading west, toward wind-whipped wheat,
sun-seared barley, queen-of-the-prairie peace
While crimson and bronze, plum and blue
ribbons tie up heavenly gifts, the evening grace
of light and shadow covering
His hand burnt toast in mine,
sturdy with a master builder's blisters,
a minion comforter's touch that leads
my tenderfoot faith through the strait garden gate,
along the narrow way chosen
Beyond the swept threshing floor of a splintered grey granary,
across slick silver train tracks,
past cinder soot freight yard,
Through the green door of a whitewashed dairy,
inside the welcomed fresh rush of palpable coolness
Placing our petitions on the brown counter,
heady with ripe vanilla, rich chocolate, raw butter,
We wait and watch the procession of scarlet-capped bottles
lined-up, filthy, in need of filling with hot water;
their dross purged, they sparkle precious promises
Walking east, toward hearthstone haven, lambent oil lamp,
loaded with love gifts offered on the fireboard, prepared for yellow morn:
our meal of sweet cereal with cream poured frothy and thick
Seasoned by a swell of indwelling spirit, the appeal of amber
church bells testifying blessed assurance of new birth

PICTURE and BIOGRAPHY of
Dr. Linda L. Bielowski, Ph.D.
The author is a practicing psychotherapist, board certified pastoral
counselor, and university English instructor, who refocused on her writing
after facilitating a spirituality group and participating in a poetry
exhibit at the prestigious University of Chicago Hospitals. Her work has
appeared in numerous journals, magazines, and anthologies including the
following: Poetry Magazine, Ariga, Wilmington Blues, Muse Apprentice Guild,
Enfuse, Eintouist, Poetism, Poetic Hours, Verses, SpaceBreather, SubtleTea,
Unarmed, Pure Christians, A flippant Way, Listening to the Birth of
Crystals, Promise, Subjective Substance, Conspire; among others. Dr.
Bielowski has published a first collection of poetry in a chapbook Spirit
Echoes and has received a contract from PublishAmerica for her second
anthology Contemplative Persona, scheduled for release in 2004. She was
recently named “New Talent” by Little Treasures/Soul Comfort and as a
finalist in the FirstWriter poetry competition. In her leisure
time, the author chases three feline muses: Sedgwick. Joshua, and Sara.

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Poem: "POETIC RESURRECTION"
C2005 by Daniel Sunthimer
I buried myself in the sins of the past;
First came the curse, the cure must come last.
I'm sure to endure, until all becomes pure;
My body made new, my spirit mature.
Now is the day that I dig myself out,
And live in this world with faith, without doubt.
Now is the point where my life turns around;
This is the year that my spirit is found.
This is the place where I show my true face;
This is the life where I know my true grace.
Know my own purpose, grow my own faith;
No longer to wander not knowing the way.
Finding the Light shining bright on the road;
Always assured it's the right way to go.
Always secure that my mind has no limit;
The life of a Light-bearer is one that's infinite.
The rest of this journey is just the beginning;
I'm leaving this world that sin keeps on spinning.
I'm being freed from the dungeon of doubt never-ending;
Extending my years through the fears I'm transcending.
The fear that I see when I look deep within;
Beyond my vain problems, beneath every sin.
A Treasure within the creation of man;
No measure to what he can understand.
And whatever he can't, that he will in due time;
The future exists with the past left behind.
The old way is over, New Body, New Wine;
Finding the Truth through the measure of time.
All is one Essence, One Essence we rest in;
One Spirit, one Mind, one Body Predestined,
One source, one Truth, one Living Connection,
One Love, one Life and one Resurrection.

Poem: "JUST SAY THE WORD"
C2005 by Austine Ekhaiyeme
I may be sick and I can't walk,
I may be blind and I can't see,
I may be deaf and I can't hear;
Lord, You say the word and I shall be healed.
I may have pains and cry all night,
I may feel their is no hope for tomorrow,
I may be a sinner and feel there is no room for repentance;
Lord, just say the word and I shall be healed.
I may be rich and have no peace,
I may be poor and still suffering,
All I need is Your faith;
Just say the word,
And Your servant shall be healed.

Biography: Austine Ekhaiyeme is an artist and resides in Nigeria.
Email: aekhaiyeme (at) yahoo.com

Three Poems by Augustine Rivera, C2004
[UNTITLED]
It's always a pleasure to bask in your sunlight when you shine it my way!
Fresh out of my mind is the love that orbits the sun and is not hard to
find.
You see it when you dance, you breath it when you die;
You feel it when the heart in your chest opens up so much that you forget
about time.
I water my soul with that of my own tears;
I wear them as badges, when I'm drenched.
I mix it with the sun and float amongst the peaceful clouds,
That the Lord uses in his goodnight painting of the sky.
It's a marvel that keeps us connected for eternity, You and I.
When I reach for You, it's like floating down a river.
The rapids are worries, the stillness is deliverance, and the fork is your
free will.
But the love in your heart is all you have true control of;
Let all things come to pass, as they will naturally.
Don't bank too soon, walking on your own isn't something a cripple can do.
Stay afloat, enjoy the sights, you don't have to know where you're going;
When you know we'll be meeting in the end.
You started with warmth and love then came the light and the screams;
Then came the knowledge.
Continue to breath, 'cause the ride is a long one.
It was all for a reason and His will to be free.

[UNTITLED]
I cover my heart to listen to the echo of love through my fingertips;
Drip Drop .... music to my mind.
When I close my eyes, I can match the beat of answers that unbind.
Wanting more than to seek;
Absorb your power,
Swing in the light,
Sing with pure soul.
Open the windows wide,
Dispense what I know,
Let the cool wind of peace nestle in the places where warmth slaughters
harmony.
Breathe in light,
Breathe out exhaust;
Breathe in light,
Consume Me.
Release from material escapades is the spark that starts the cleansing
reflection of fire.
Or is it opposing with blame that hinders desire?
If time controls the mind,
The mold dries at the stop light of life.
While the freeway of truth flows alongside a river;
Through day and by night,
Wanting to live,
Wanting to love.
Break from all boundaries to reach higher above;
Shadows get bigger,
Patience takes longer,
Every word from above makes armor stronger.

[UNTITLED]
When I wake up in the morning and my faith out shines the sun;
I want nothing more than to shine it on you.
When my heart sings in silent auction to the rhythm of the sunrise;
I want nothing more than to 'bide with you.
When sometime down the line, dirt covers the gems of wisdom you find;
I want nothing more than to play in the mud.
When a plant of good soil grows and before a good farmer mows;
I want nothing more than pollination of good souls.
When the day has come with blessing and the future keeps you guessing;
I want nothing more than to be surprised.
When the sun, she goes to bed and the stars, they poke their heads;
I want nothing more than all I've said.

Poem by Clifford Wayne Duncan, C2004
"TIMES OF MANY TRAVELS"
Though our times of many travels,
Have lead us straight to you;
Long be the memories,
This passion within our view.
From the many paths of love,
To the soft tears of one's pain;
This longing from our youth,
To one day find this change.
To the gentle hearts that cry,
With the shape of your hands;
So full of your tenderness,
This love we come to understand.
Dreams over mountains,
To the fertile fields below;
Where the flower that blooms,
Like this longing within our soul.
As songs of beauty heard upon the winds,
To a life so simple 'till the day we enter in.

Poem by Brandon Smith, C2004
"LIFE"
Life seems to be a maze,
A road with separate ways;
The darkest of the night,
And the brightest of the days.
It seems to be a task,
That some just cannot grasp.
It's a never-ending fight,
That continues night by night.
At times you may think, "why is it always me"?
But take a look around you, you'll be surprised at what you see.
There are people in this world, who have no clothes to stay warm;
People who can't drink water due to fatal harm,
Those who have no food and nothing around to eat,
Those who have no socks or shoes for their feet.
But these four things I have listed does not include Love;
For that we will always have sent from the Lord above.
Life can be depressing at times,
When you're looking through ones' eyes.
So take a step back and find where happiness lies:
Whether it's in your mind, heart, or soul; happiness cannot be disguised.
There are times where you may find yourself sitting all alone,
But then there's that place, that place that you call home;
Where your family sits and waits, waits for you to arrive,
You know your family, your inspiration, your motive, and your drive.
That place that you call home, that some left so long ago,
The place that will always be there, standing with you, "toe to toe".
So my advice to you; is short, simple, and sweet;
May all the problems that you face, end in defeat.
Listen to my advice; like a river it flows,
Take each day as it comes, not as it goes.
Like a roller coaster, Life has its ups and its downs;
One day you are at the summit and the next you are on the ground.
So live each day to the fullest, live it like it's your last,
Just don't look back on things that you may regret from the past!

Brandon Smith comments on his poem:
I wrote this poem after I went through some hard times and finally realized,
it could always be worse. Poetry is like an escape for me, When I write,
everything just fades away and my feelings come out on paper. I think its
great that you have a site that allows poets to submit their work.
God Bless!!
Email: brandonleesmith (type all with no spaces) @ hotmail.com

Poem by Nancy Shaik Mohamed, C2005
"STAGE"
I am the performer.
I decide who the audience will be.
I need the light, but I am drawn to darkness.
In the light I hear celebration of my performance and I yearn,
To act with my heart all the more.
I feel the raging jealousy burning within the dark;
I know the plan is to destroy my stage.
In the darkness I am trapped within myself.
My performance is a battle with my mind, body, soul and the Stage.
My mind needs the light, my soul is searching for the light;
But my flesh feeds the stage and the need to perform,
For the dark burns my soul.
I have ruined my performance.
Blinding are the beams of salvation and deliverance;
I am not trapped yet, these beams are my way through the darkness.
How do I reach it?
The struggle to find the light is tormenting me to lose the empty stage,
But the light shines on my stage and such victory I find.
I can hear the celebration of my victory!
This is our performance;
The struggle is to perform; but for whom?
Your performance will choose you or your audience.

Nancy's comments on her poem:
This poem was written in the light of emotions strange and new to me. It was
not until a later time that I realized that this expression was meant as
inspiration for others. No matter what problems we all face, the Lord will
never forsake us. We must be true and Truth is always in our own heart.
My poem is about how easily we become ensnared in this WORLD and forget GOD
because the WORLD is so enticing, inviting and it has so much temporary
pleasure and fixes for our daily battles. This is a poem that is filled with
feelings that overcome us when we realize how much we have trusted the WORLD
and we are so desperate for the one true and permanent relief of all our
troubles, burdens, sorrows ...... that is the LORD GOD and his son JESUS; the
Light of the world.
I encourage and challenge each individual to carefully guard each and every
act of ours, because we are all personally responsible, inevitably, for the
pain or joy that we inflict upon ourselves, others and our Lord. Perform
your life with a focus on who you are and who you want to become. How
important it is, always, to make our LORD proud of us daily, and to always
strive to be a pleasure in His eyes.

Five Poems by Bryon D. Howell, C2005
A MIRACLE IS AN ECHO
A miracle cannot be bought or sold,
It cannot be set-up, arranged, or built;
It cannot be postponed or put on hold;
It doesn’t cause regret, remorse, or guilt.
A miracle cannot be chased or sought,
It will not come on order or command;
It's never something for which someone fought,
It can't be called or summoned with a hand.
A miracle is never truly late,
It will not choose between two selfish sides;
it won't console someone who basks in hate,
it can't be tracked like sunshine, storms, or tides.
True miracles just come, then disappear;
They've life in recollections year to year.

AN IMPORTANT STEP
One day, I made sobriety my goal;
Showed up for meetings and I even shared;
Serenity had come to soothe my soul,
So many different people truly cared.
Commitments made were always timely met,
I paid some bills and built some credit, too;
Old friends were oh so easy to forget,
My life was filled with sober things to do.
I threw up chairs and even broke them down,
Was nominated right to lead the pack;
Then suddenly one day I turned around,
Addiction found me through a sneak attack...
I had it all, but didn’t have the Lord,
The most important step had been ignored.

BEING HUMBLE
(Previously published in “FRESH!” )
It seems that everybody has a plan,
A goal to which they give their heart and soul;
They plot a course, do everything they can...
And suddenly the keyword is control.
I see how everybody hits a wall,
From time to time it’s just what comes to be;
No matter how they pine, they seem to fall...
Despite their passion and intensity.
I think that I would rather play it cool,
And let the future look out for its own;
The humble one will never look the fool...
Like those who go on blindly and alone.
In realizing I am not that tough...
I’m satisfied, and mine is just enough.

FAITH
I stood there helpless, on the edge of death,
As close to nothingness as one could be;
My darkest night had come to snuff my breath,
No one below to try and rescue me.
The wind behind me whispered, "You're too late!"
I quickly felt my eyes begin to swell;
I dared not turn around for fear of hate,
Nor look below to face descent to hell.
Looked up instead and gazed into the sky,
The only word that I could say was, Please..."
Immediately, all my tears were dry,
The angry wind became a healing breeze.
As for that edge, it suddenly was gone;
My darkest night became a glowing dawn.

FREE AS A DOVE
This is me up in the sky,
Above the thunder cloud;
I never thought I’d fly,
Thought I was not allowed.
Thought dreams were for the strong,
But here I am today.
This is where I belong,
There’s nothing in my way.
This is me up on the roof,
Looking down at you;
You thought I was aloof,
But that is so untrue!
Thought success had passed me by,
My hour come and gone;
Today I’m reaching high,
Today I know I’m strong.
This is who I am today;
Free as a gentle dove;
There’s nothing in my way,
I cannot rise above.

Bryon D. Howell is a poet residing in Connecticut USA

Biography for Thomas Paul (wordwulf) SternerHowe
Songs may be sampled or downloaded at:
http://truefire.com/list.html?store=original_music&viewauthor=3554
Biography:
Thomas Paul (wordwulf) SternerHowe began to sing to his fellow Child
prisoners in the West Denver Housing Projects in the '60s. He spent the '70s
and '80s howling his lyrics in rock 'n roll whiskey bars. He found passion
in friction, the guttural growl of his Harley Davidson Hawg and the monster
men he rode with. Between prison and Big Brother Deals, he watched them all
disappear. This poor boy (Momma was a Catholic; Daddy was a drunk) has
found his voice and lends it to a vision - a tomorrow when his Children
won't be goose-stepped and prodded into Daddy/Boy money wars. A native son
of Colorado, he lives in Lafayette with wife Karen, her two sons and his
youngest son, Zedidiah. Family and riding his Harley Davidson fill up the
hours left over from work and creative enterprises. SternerHowe is poetry
editor at Skyline Literary Review and has been extensively published in
independent literary magazines including Howling Dog, Press/Omega (The most
dangerous writers alive), Ken*Again Magazine, Flesh From Ashes, Silence
Speaks, Skyline Literary Review, Apollo's Lyre, etc. He is winner of the
Marija Cerjak Award for Avant-Garde/Experimental Writing 2001, 2002 & 2003.
A bibliography of his writing credits and writing samples may be viewed at:
http://tomsternerhowe.freeservers.com/about.html.
His first novel: 'Madman Chronicles: The Warrior' (ISBN# 1-59286-793-6), is
available at his website: http://pages.prodigy.net/sterner-howe, or at
www.PublishAmerica.com. He has earned his PHD (Post Hole Digger) of life,
intends to bellow and right/write the beast at every opportunity. The poor
boy understands; that awful thing he was doing, fighting and singing in that
mortar brick compound at ten years old; 'it' is what he is bound to do
until it follows him on down.
Contact Information:
email: sterner-howe@prodigy.net
website: http://pages.prodigy.net/sterner-howe

Poem: "UNAVOIDABLE GOD"
C2004 By Thomas Paul SternerHowe
We may seek and never find,
Hunt and hunger awhile,
That which we seek.
Silent in our approach,
Sincere in our blood,
Is patient and steadfast;
A loving parent who
Ignores the occasional skinned knee;
That we might find solace
Amongst our fellows,
A faith-speak inside.
There, at life's end-roads,
Times when we feel like
We may just not go on.
Yes, there and unavoidable,
The weigh and hand
Of our loving God,

Poem: "CARRY ON"
C2004 by Thomas Paul SternerHowe
With our feet upon the threshold, we come seek in your name.
With hearts overflowing, we come seek in your name.
Carry on sweet Jesus, carry on, and carry on.
With our feet upon the threshold, carry on.
Take a step in the God light; place a brick in the wall;
For the house dwells within you, place a brick in the wall.
Carry on sweet Jesus, carry on, carry on.
Take a step in the God light, carry on
Here we stand as a People, would you have us begin?
Learn to love one another, would you have us begin?
Carry on sweet Jesus, carry on, carry on.
Here we stand as a People, carry on.
Close our eyes, make a prayer; we are bricks in the wall.
We are building as Jesus; we are bricks in the wall.
Carry on sweet Jesus, carry on, carry on.
Close our eyes make a prayer, carry on.
Bless this place, we beseech you; every man, woman, child.
And its leaders who teach us, every man, woman, child.
Carry on sweet Jesus, carry on, carry on.
Bless this place, we beseech you, carry on.

Biography for Cathy Wagner:
Cathy has been writing poetry for many years, and would like to become
published someday. She feels that her poetry is God's gift to her. She has
found great blessings through writing her poems, and enjoys sharing them
also, in hopes to give comfort to others.
Cathy has won two poetry competitions, and received invitation to read her
poetry at a national poet's conference in Washington DC.
Currently, she is a higher education school teacher, teaching students with
learning disabilities, and also Frontline Management business students.
Cathy (and husband) can be contacted by email rcwagner (at) bigpond.net.au

Poem: "LESSONS FROM HEAVEN"
C2002 By Cathy Wagner
Why is it that
It's always too late,
To learn the hard lessons
That sometimes we hate.
We know we must learn them,
But life's far too short;
The Lord has his ways
To get what he wants.
He sends us to earth,
For lessons before,
He gives us the job
Of helping in heaven.
But yet it is always
That sometimes it takes,
A death to remind us
Of what we should say,
To the ones that we love,
By night and by day.

Poem: "MY LORD GOD, MY WONDER"
C2003 By Cathy Wagner
Oh Ancient One, My Savior,
Your strength gives me courage,
To tackle life's woes.
Though sometimes I wonder,
What it is you are asking;
When I two steps go forward,
Then three steps behind.
I ask for Your guidance;
You challenge me with questions.
You test me and fill my life,
With things so unknown.
Just when life's beginning
To seem to move forward;
I'm faced with another
Of those questions you sow.
It seems to me sometimes;
You're testing my faith in You,
By throwing a hard year
Right at me to face.
And just when it seems
That I've overcome one hurdle;
You throw me another,
For all of life's worth.
It seems that the more
That I get to know You;
The more You try harder
To ask me to do.
You ask me to work more,
To try and to do more.
Instead of an easy path,
It seems like life's worst.
But Lord I'll not falter,
Nor stumble life's hurdles;
I know I have faith,
In the promises You made.
You sent Your son Jesus
To die on the cross for me.
That's more than I can ever do,
In life's sacrifice.

Poem: "FATHER I HEARD YOU AND IT IS ALRIGHT"
C2004 By Cathy Wagner
Father I heard you and it is alright;
I heard what you said and I want to take heed,
Of your instructions to me;
It's just what I need.
You told me to listen,
To play and to write;
To write what I felt,
And so I'm here tonight.
You said that you love me,
You are always there;
Although you're not here still,
You're there everywhere.
You love me, protect me,
You take care of me too.
You are there when I feel that
I'll always be blue.
You told me to cry,
You told me to sigh;
You said that it's OK
To tell others why.
So Father, I love you,
I want you to know;
That I'll always love you,
Although you're not here now.
I feel you're around,
I feel your surrounds;
I feel that the Angels
Are with you right now.
Please talk to me
And tell me,
What you know I should hear.
Please tell me that you'll always
Be so close, so near.
And thank you, dear Father,
For helping to tell,
Through a friend who said so much;
Though she knew not what it meant.
She helped me to understand,
I guess what I knew;
She helped me to know,
That you loved me so.
She told me all the things,
I wanted to hear;
She told me what
I knew was so dear.
From now on I'll listen
More closely to you;
To hear what you say,
And do what I should do.
I'll listen and write down,
The words you tell me;
So I can help others
To grieve, or to cheer.
To feel that they too can
Overcome all the doubt,
All the loss,
All the grief,
All the shouting about.
What they need to say too,
Is important to them;
So through me they can listen,
And from me, to them.
And write down
What you say,
So they too can be near;
To You always my Father,
To You always, so dear.

Poem: "WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE"
C2004 by Austine Ekhaiyeme
We all have a role to play,
When all is said and done.
We all must leave someday,
Face to face to meet
The Holy one,
To give account of all our works.
We have no permanent place here on earth.
Temporally we came to do
What one has been assigned for.
Life is a stage;
We must act well before we physically fade.
Our life here will only be remembered
By the things we say or do.
When all is said and done,
Only our memories of here will linger on.

Poem: "YOUR CALL"
C2004 by Austine Ekhaiyeme
I have lived my life in the dark
For so long.
Hope was far from me;
The enemies thought they had ruined me.
Alas, I was confused.
But one day came Your Call;
That moment that changed my life for good.
And it's amazing how it feels,
Because my life has not been the same again.
I am so glad You saved me;
Your Call has brought me to the Light.
Now my darkness is no more;
Oh what a joy You gave me.
Every day I feel like praising You.
Thank you, Jesus, for You are just too good.

Poem: "WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE"
C2004 by Austine Ekhaiyeme
We all have a role to play,
When all is said and done.
We all must leave someday,
Face to face to meet
The Holy one,
To give account of all our works.
We have no permanent place here on earth.
Temporally we came to do
What one has been assigned for.
Life is a stage;
We must act well before we physically fade.
Our life here will only be remembered
By the things we say or do.
When all is said and done,
Only our memories of here will linger on.
Biography: Austine Ekhaiyeme is an artist and resides in Nigeria.
Email: aekhaiyeme (at) yahoo.com

Poem: "Falling Away"
Copyright 2004 by Dr. Linda L. Bielowski, Ph.D
Lick my
wounds, pocked and sore.
World-whipped, weary, I stand
stiff too long. Stems in a parched jar,
petals falling away:
Gilead's balm
ignored.

Poem: "Visitation"
Copyright 2004 by Dr. Linda L. Bielowski, Ph.D
When the nightingales sing
and the June bugs buzz saw
through the screen door’s slam
While the katydids rhythms rub
with the crickets’ chirp
beneath hens-and-chickens’ rosettes
Broccoli treetops swoosh
in a sweltering gust
that sweeps the grove’s floor
Like mama’s broom
whisking her words
into itchy ears:
Don’t fear the dead,
when they call and come
to your bed…
Side-by-side with the inhale
of despairing dark, the exhale
of heartening halo
Ask them what they want…
As troubles come and go
like geese on the wing,
and seasons turn
seed to fruit to compost
Swallowing the bitterroot and choke weed
of past due bills,
with the gas cut-off
and the oven turned-on
Here I sit…compass lost
cat’s body a hot-water bottle,
her breath sweet daisies
Curing cancer with soup and aloe,
surrender and prayer…the days
of my life written, the hairs
on my head counted
Like mama and the moon,
I keep shining!
By Linda L. Bielowski, Ph.D.

PICTURE and BIOGRAPHY of
Dr. Linda L. Bielowski, Ph.D.
The author is a practicing psychotherapist, board certified pastoral
counselor, and university English instructor, who refocused on her writing
after facilitating a spirituality group and participating in a poetry
exhibit at the prestigious University of Chicago Hospitals. Her work has
appeared in numerous journals, magazines, and anthologies including the
following: Poetry Magazine, Ariga, Wilmington Blues, Muse Apprentice Guild,
Enfuse, Eintouist, Poetism, Poetic Hours, Verses, SpaceBreather, SubtleTea,
Unarmed, Pure Christians, A flippant Way, Listening to the Birth of
Crystals, Promise, Subjective Substance, Conspire; among others. Dr.
Bielowski has published a first collection of poetry in a chapbook Spirit
Echoes and has received a contract from PublishAmerica for her second
anthology Contemplative Persona, scheduled for release in 2004. She was
recently named “New Talent” by Little Treasures/Soul Comfort and as a
finalist in the FirstWriter poetry competition. In her leisure
time, the author chases three feline muses: Sedgwick. Joshua, and Sara.

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Poem: "In Awe Of You"
C2004 by Moboluwaji Raphael Ojo of Nigeria
Alone path tread in the light of moon
With you heavenly legion like the waves ride
Lurking dangers protection light like noon
Each step thy grace lope who bide
In the air of your throne loving boon
Where mercy lief like river glide
Its showers of blessings that glebe spoon
In sonsy lass they gracefully hide
And at mention of thy word wickedness swoon
For compassion girt at every side
From mien of thy dayspring shades flee
Star in panoply of morn that never set
Many that grace will let gaze forever free
In supernal loveliness you gladly let
Are awed by the freedom like sea
Endless in the peaceful narrow way met
Wizened life your divine touch let be
Lovely like rose petals drizzle wet
And gloom of death debt ever hold in glee
By the resurrection that we freely get.
BIOGRAPHY: My name is Moboluwaji Raphael Ojo , born in the year 1977, am male by sex and of the Christian faith. I love reading , music, poetry and nature photography. Graduate of University of Ibadan, Nigeria in the field of Geography. Poems are living words; and Christian poetry are words made more alive by the passion in the LIVING WORD OF GOD.

Poem: "LEND ME YOUR SHOULDER"
C2004 by Nganwa Anthony Iguru
South Africa, Rhodes University
email: ngamnya (at) yahoo.co.uk
Lend me your shoulder, I need to rest;
For these shoes I wear are old and torn;
'Cause the path I take is rocky and steep,
With hills so great and curves so crooked.
Lend me your shoulder, I need to rest;
'Cause darkness ahead seems to prevail;
With no stars around to lead me home,
And no dawn to bring me hope.
Lend me your shoulder, I need to rest;
For in this desert I loose my strength;
As ahead of me I see mirages of love,
And many illusions of brilliant peace.
Lend me your shoulder, I need to rest;
For strange waves toss my ship,
And weaken the strength of my powerful grip,
Making my life a short painful trip.
Lend me your shoulder, I need to rest;
For one day I'll win the quest,
And help you in your journeys tests,
As the breath of peace does its best.

Poem: "THE HEALING LIGHT"
Copyright 2004 by Lovewrite1 (at netzero.net)
Light found me
When I was broken,
Mended my spirit
So I could stand;
Rise above myself
And lifted me up,
Toward the Son's healing hands.
Oozing with olive oil,
Water to quench my arid tongue;
Made me to stand
On solid legs again.
I'm no longer friendless.

Poem: "A PROSTITUTE'S TESTIMONY"
Copyright 2004 by Deisya
At a young age my life took a turn,
Everything just went down hill;
I was molested by my uncle and sworn to silence,
Because my family didn't want to deal.
With the fact that our family had problems,
That could not be solved with words:
We needed help outside our circle,
But my thoughts just went unheard.
So, I left when I turned fifteen;
But no one would take me in.
When the word got out what happened,
They treated me like I'm the one who'd sinned.
Now, on my own, on the streets,
Is the place that's home to me.
I had no job, education, or money,
How to make it was hard to see.
This was not the life I wanted,
But the one dealt anyway,
So I began to prostitute for money,
And cry my cares away.
I took my GED and passed it,
So, now on to college I'll go.
On to start a new life,
Expanding my mind to grow.
Two months to go before college,
But now a baby I carry inside.
What life awaits this child?
How can he look at his mother with pride?
For him, I'll turn everything around,
So he won't be alienated by anyone;
My child is my future, my life;
My blessing from God, my son.
But, I knew if I wanted to start over,
With God, I'd have to be right;
So I decided I'd go to church,
To prayer meeting one Wednesday night.
All the clothes I had were inappropriate,
But I heard He only looks at what's inside;
I was tired of the life I was given,
No longer would I stand to hide.
I entered the church very humbly,
And one lady greeted me with a smile;
She said, "Baby, I'm happy to see you,
Come sit, stay for awhile."
That really touched my heart,
And confirmed what I was doing was right.
But, that warm feeling slowly turned cold,
As people stared at me all night.
They never said anything to me,
But turned their nose up as they stared;
Never minding if it hurt my feelings,
Never once showing they cared.
But the lady sitting beside me,
Just grabbed my hand real tight;
"You're courage says wonders about you",
"Don't worry, it'll be alright."
The lesson that night was "Forgiveness",
And that none are free of sin;
That God is willing to save and forgive,
If you would accept the Holy Spirit within.
As he gave the invitation,
I got up but hesitated;
It was a long walk down that aisle,
I can't believe how long I've waited.
Then I felt a hand on my back,
And then I turned to see;
That it was the woman who greeted me earlier,
The one who welcomed me.
"Did you need me to walk you down?"
She said sweetly in a soft voice.
"I can walk you to the door,
But to enter must be your choice."
"No thank you, I can do it,
It's not time to be pacified;
I can make it because simply,
For me He hung and died."
As I began to move forward,
To finally redeem my soul;
I heard a faint voice say,
"With God, you will be whole."
I looked down to my left,
Where and old woman sat;
She grabbed hold of my hand,
And slowly began to pat.
"These old eyes have seen many
Of things in my days,
But when a sinner comes home;
I see angels praise."
"Don't let your heart troubled,
From cold stares you may get;
Cause God called for sinners,
Yet still they sit."
"No one is free
From worldly sin;
Yet you decided to come here,
And let the Holy Spirit in."
"I'd accompany you down,
But these old bones ache;
Still you go down that aisle,
There salvation awaits."
I headed to the alter,
With tears in my eyes;
There were whispers all around me,
Not to my surprise.
But the old woman's words
Kept repeating in my ear,
And I said to myself,
Whom in this world shall I fear?
When I made it up front,
The preacher took my hand;
"Though shackled with adversity,
Here you stand."
"Your life is no secret
To those of us here;
Yet no more does it matter,
So wipe away those tears."
"In front of this church,
Your life you have given;
And my prayer for you,
Is to be Holy Spirit driven."
"In God's arms today,
You may rest your brow;
For his concern for you ,
Is here and now."
"Is there a word on your heart,
That you'd like to say;
Before we all gather around you,
And begin to pray?"
"YES".
"I'd like to thank someone,
Sitting in the pew;
Who gave an encouraging word,
And helped me to continue."
"Down this aisle,
To renew my vow;
To God, my spirit,
I offer it now."
"In her words I envisioned,
A much brighter day;
If I always remember,
To trust God and obey."
I looked up to find her,
Amongst the crowd;
I wanted to acknowledge
Her presence out loud.
As I walked down the pews,
And got to her aisle;
There sat a small doll,
Of an old lady with a smile.
In her hands was a cross,
That looked so fragile;
It read "Just a short visit,
From your guardian angel."
It was then that I knew,
What I was doing was right;
'Cause God stopped by
And sent His angel that night.

Poem: "TIMES OF MANY TRAVELS"
Copyright 2004 by Clifford Wayne Duncan
Though our times of many travels,
Have lead us straight to you;
Long be the memories,
This passion within our view.
From the many paths of love,
To the soft tears of one's pain;
This longing from our youth,
To one day find this change.
To the gentle hearts that cry,
With the shape of your hands;
So full of your tenderness,
This love we come to understand.
Dreams over mountains,
To the fertile fields below;
Where the flower that blooms,
Like this longing within our soul.
As songs of beauty heard upon the winds,
To a life so simple 'till the day we enter in.

Poem: "Whispering Soul"
Copyright 2004 by Colleen Grant
"Whispering Soul"
I give to you this thought to keep;
I am with you now, so please don't weep.
I am a thousand winds that kiss your face;
the shining dawn of each new day.
I am the melody of songbirds in early spring;
the laughter of children frolicking.
I am the crimson petals of a fragrant rose;
the diamond glimmer on the winter snow.
I am the heart of an eagle high in flight;
a shining star in the darkened night.
I am the whispering soul on the other side;
gently saying, "Don't be afraid to die."
Colleen Grant, Owner
Heaven in a Handbasket
2295 Wharncliffe Rd. S.
Lambeth, ON N6P 1S7
p: (519) 652-6255 f: (519) 652-6155
e: colleen@hiah.com
w: www.hiah.com

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