The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “good.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! I caught this huge flock of geese flying north! Spring is coming and that’s a really good thing!
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “weighed.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! I saw this beautiful bald eagle on a walk the other day. The question I’m pondering is whether the weight of the bird is greater on the tree than the need for food is on the bird. This must not be an easy season for this noble bird.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “accomplish.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so below is a haiga!
A word of explanation: I have spent nearly five years living in the Binghamton area and I have driven down 26 to Vestal Parkway probably hundreds of times over the years. Almost every time I either drive over this bridge and exit to drive underneath it or take a back road which leads me to drive down the parkway under this bridge. In nearly five years, I never knew what was over the dirt embankment. It turns out it is the Vestal Rail Trail which I walked and prayed over on Sunday. This is several kilometers from where I started to walk. I saw something new while doing something healthy with my stress. That’s a great accomplishment for a pastor who usually spends Sunday afternoon napping!
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “dazzling.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! I was walking with my toddler while praying through life yesterday when suddenly the sun burst out of the clouds. It has felt like forever since the sun struck my skin. It was glorious and reminded me of those first few verses of Genesis…
Tonight I had the first night of three evenings in a row with committee meetings. I found myself coming home and needing to let off some steam by thinking about something besides the church. I noticed that dVerse~Poets Pub was having another poetry challenge. Today’s is the quadrille or a 44 word poem with the word “Spike” involved in some way, shape, or form in the poem. I tried a pair of different poems for fun.
The first poem is inspired by my marvelous wife who sometimes forgets just how talented she happens to be. At the Father-Daughter dance at the school the other day, a friend remarked how the look my daughter gave her sister came straight from her mother. My wife is fierce, strong, and intelligent–Athena personified in my life. So, this first quadrille poem is for her. Also, it is a rondelet because apparently I’m a glutton for punishment.
You pierce my heart dear.
“Athena’s Rondelet,” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019. Written in honor of my wife.
My heart rate spikes as I stop to wonder.
You pierce my heart dear.
Athena questions her footing in fear
While I listen and hear ringing thunder
As heaven’s mold she does break asunder.
You pierce my heart dear.
My second poem is far less serious. It is entirely about a fictional video game character that I have been hanging out with off and on since July 13, 2016. We’ve been spending more time than usual lately as it turns out walking is the one exercise I can do well without throwing out my back. That comment is not an invitation for advice… The character is my Snorlax from Pokémon Go, which is totally not my intellectual property. Hey, free publicity though… I like your game. It is mindless and good motivation to keep on walking. The number of kilometers I have walked with this goon kinda shocks me. The poem’s form is ABABCC
Five kilometers for just one candy.
“Pokémon Quadrille” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019. Feel free to use this Niantic!
My heart rate spikes as black ice makes me slip.
My Pokémon Snorlax will be handy
If I could only earn more on this trip.
I straighten up and continue walking.
No one loses weight sitting and talking.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “pray.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! My prayer today is for the United Methodist Church.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “rest.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! Today’s Sabbath reflection comes from last Friday. I kept whispering sweet words to my youngest daughter as she napped. She kept smiling.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “test.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! This photo describes life with a furnace you don’t own, can’t replace, and just want to go all “A Christmas Story” on but can’t because the kids are home and you’re a pastor.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “given.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! This photo describes life with our two older children.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “tempted.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! I’m guessing most of you know how well this plan ended.
The word for the day for the #RethinkChurch Photo-A-Day challenge is “full.” Being myself, I can’t leave well enough alone, so here’s a haiga! This photo was taken at a spaghetti fundraiser for a family friend’s child (who happens to be probably as close to a best friend as my one year old has at this point).
“Hey Candy. Crush me!”
“Gummy Bear Senryu” by the Distracted Pastor, 2019
I laugh. The gummy bear flew.
Twenty six pounds hurts.
I wrote this senryu to play a little bit with the “Games Night” theme at the dVerse Poets’ Pub. I have played enough video games to realize that it is sometimes fun to pretend not to know anything about them.
This poem is inspired by a twenty six pound Gummy Bear that you can actually buy. Who needs chocolates for Valentine’s Day? Seriously though, you could kill someone with that thing. I imagine it’ll make an appearance in a Dead Rising game at some point if it hasn’t already.
By the way, this is my 200th blog post! I have others scheduled for the next few days, but I wanted to say thank you to everyone who keeps encouraging me by reading and enjoying my posts, even when they’re silly. Blessings to you.
On the cold days when all warmth seems to fall asunder
I seek out the deep depths of my wardrobe to plunder
One of the best blessings from Christmas past: warm sweater
To keep the frost from my bones during winter’s wonder.For some a warm blanket might seem a choice far better
Or a towel from the dryer when things are wetter;
still, I do feel there is nothing else that I could know
To be as warm and cozy as once gift wrapped sweater.So on a frosty morn with coffee in hand I show
This ugly sweater that they once gave me years ago.
Yes, I will join them under a blanket warmed with love
But that warmth fills my heart. I can take both kinds to go.If you see me with February reindeer don’t shove
“February Sweater” by The Distracted Pastor, 2019
Me out of your mind with coarse fashionista’s glove.
I do not wear this as a fashion faux-pas blunder.
I wear it because it warms me with both wool and love.
I wrote this poem for the dVerse poetry form rubaiyat challenge. We were invited to reflect on our writing process. I was thinking about the prompt offered by Frank Hubeny in the comment of “vortex.” I did not want to go straight into the vortex as I somewhat covered my feelings on the polar vortex with my blogs on “Ice” and the angry poem about that groundhog.
I started to think about the polar vortex and the cold that filled our home despite our best efforts last week. I thought about how nice it was to be warm, but that most forms of being warm were transient. Despite the subzero temperatures, the sweaters I wore did keep me warm wherever I went. I didn’t look very fashionable, but I was warm.
So, in many ways this was an ode to both those awful Christmas sweaters and to the kids who made sure I had warm clothes to wear. I enjoyed writing it even as it wandered around from one quatrain to the next. I guess, in a sense I am grateful for the kids, the sweaters, and for the prompt for happy contemplation.
If you were wondering, I do own an actual wardrobe. No, I haven’t found Narnia… yet…
You are in spotlights…
The Distracted Pastor, 2019
How did you not see shadow???
You lying rodent…
This senryu was written while waiting for a chance to grab lunch. Hunger has an effect on my sense of humor. It was written in response to Frank Tasson’s Haikai Challenge. The challenge responded to being cold and was presented on the day when the famous shadow forecasting of a particularly coddled groundhog on February 2nd said it would be warm soon. I obviously went with the senryu form, which is obviously not to be taken as a personal insult to the people of Punxsutawney.
There is a time for every matter under heaven. There is a time for challenge and a time for winter. There is a time for difficulty and a time for tears. There is a time for brokenness and a time for loneliness. There is a time for solitude and a time for silence. There is a time for every matter under heaven, so why be jealous of those whose tears are yet to come? Why be envious of those who will know broken days? Why wish to be those who have had perfect days? There is a time for every matter under heaven…
“Perspective” by The Distracted Pastor, 2019
Tomorrow will come
And all will be different,
So breathe through the pain.
This poem is written in response to the challenge from the dVerse Poets’ Pub challenge for a Haibun on Solitude. This poem is dedicated to a good friend who knows why I wrote it. Thank you for listening, my friend.
Ice.
Accumulating floe.
Choking, Seizing, Stilling.
Grinding to a halt...
Frozen...
The Distracted Pastor, 2019
The polar vortex froze the water in the pipes running through the lawn between our home and the church from Thursday through Sunday. We left town to go to a training, but returned before the thaw. It was very stressful, so this poem has been writing itself in my head for a few days. I thought I would get it out of my system and share it for fun.
Today I wrote a poem in response to quadrille challenge #72 on the Poets’ Pub at dVerse. I wrote the poem while having a cup of green tea, despite the words of the poem. Given the fact that I am baking stuffed potatoes in the other room, it is surprising that they didn’t make their way into the quadrille.
The challenge is to write a forty four word poem. I based my poem on a 44 letter poem I wrote based on the unitoum form, although it is not officially a unitoum as it is only three stanzas long. As a result, the related quadrille is not a proper pantoum, but does have the neat feature of having the letters in the last word adding up to 44 letters in a 44 word poem. I like the symmetry of that construction. In honesty, I personally enjoy the 44 letter poem more than I like the resulting quadrille.
Steep and Steep
Black leaves steep.
Pour out Your
Pot of fragrant tea.
Fill your mug now.
As you sip your
Tea think about life.
Go slowly now.
Ponder things and drink
Think about your life
While there is
Still time to drink
And switch life up.
Bonus: Quadraginta Quatuor
Steep
Your
Tea
Now
Your
Life
Now
Drink
Life
Is
Drink
Up
This somonka is meant to be read as conversation between two lovers (alternating between bold and regular type) until the third voice enters in (in italics). What treasure awaits when these lovers are united?
I rest here alone
I wait where few find the way
I wait in the cold
Nobody finds the still path
no one turns my rusty key
I come my lovely!
I seek you across the miles.
You alone I seek.
No one will still my sore feet
Until you rest in my arms!
Come find me quickly!
I grow weary of this place
Where no one sees me.
I keep something just for you–
Deep inside with my desires.
No one can stop me!
Here I am after so long.
Did you wait for me?
Let me draw you close and sigh
As I smile and end my quest
Turn my key my love!
Open the way to my heart!
Twist and turn and pull!
Pull open that which binds me!
Come and find your heart's desire!
I will, my sweet one!
Here I come to seek inside
Places I long sought...
Oh bliss, can it be? My love...
My chest of old comic books!
Honey, are you there?
Your mom says dinner is soon.
What is that you have?
Seriously? More comics?
No, they're not graphic novels
Hold me close, my love.
Touch me with your gentle hands.
Carry me back home!
She will never understand!
She's just like your mom once was...
Treasure Somonka, The Distracted Pastor. 2019
Written in response to the Creativity Contest “We’re Going Treasure Hunting” by Peregrin Arc! This poem is dedicated to Art, Russ, Tim, Michael, Ben, and all of the other comic book lovers I have known over the years. Keep being yourselves and call your graphic novels whatever you’d like!
Gusts pierce old windows
As I enter cold kitchen.
The new year still creaks.
Calendars change as snow falls.
Aromatic tea wakes bones.
Silent draft reminds:
You are blessed to be so warm!
Howling wind reminds:
Halloween is not scary
Compared to homeless winter!
Poem crafted in response to Quadrille Challenge #71 by dVerse. I am currently decompressing from preparing for Sunday’s Annual Meeting at the church I serve by using the creative side of my brain. Too much analysis and planning leaves my creative side in need of expression. There are worse things to do at your desk while enjoying a sandwich and cup of tea!
If I had the power of creation
Strength borrowed from
Ancient powers beyond my station
I would weep for all
And seek to do no one harm.
Poem completed in response to the prompt from the blogger Cubby.
Before I even share my poem, a Merry Christmas Eve to all of the Orthodox folks out there who will celebrate Christmas tomorrow. May God bless you and your celebration!
Snow falls through dark sky
Shifting past still planter hooks.
Light will brim at dawn
On lands awaiting the thaw
After Jack Frost settles abed.
Yesterday was Independence Day in the United States. For most folks Independence Day is marked by celebration with a barbecue of chicken, hamburgers, hot dogs, sausages, or any other number of delicious foods. Tradition usually lends itself towards children staying up late to see fireworks and to listen to patriotic music.
The day celebrates the Declaration of Independence being ratified by Congress in 1776. The day celebrates a far different time in our nation. A lot of the celebration would probably be considered obtuse, strange, and irreverent to most of the folks who lived through the events of 1776. I must admit that I am less concerned with the historical tension in this holiday than with many of the religious holidays which normally pique my interest. I happen to like Independence Day.
One of the reasons I like Independence Day is that I like to grill. I enjoy using our grill. This year I did a bit of minor surgery on my charcoal grill/smoker with a dremel to add a rotisserie component. I woke up very early, set the fire smoking, and watched a turkey spin around and around on the spit. We were invited to a wedding renewal ceremony and picnic about noon. The turkey hit the perfect temperature right on time to head out to the party with a smoked bird. Here’s the bird about an hour before she was finished. The tiny yellow bits were part of an olive oil baste with thyme, marjoram, and garlic. When finished the turkey was deeply colored and extremely fragrant.
My smoked turkey about an hour before completion
I was really proud of the turkey, but I refused to put pictures online. My wife knows that I love to share bits of my cooking adventures, so she took a picture to post on my behalf. I almost stopped her from posting the picture. What was my reasoning? What if I had made a huge mistake and the turkey was awful? What if people saw the turkey and told me I had messed it up?
The turkey was decimated at the party. The turkey was just torn to shreds by people who had spent a good half hour smelling the fragrant meat while waiting for the guests of honor to arrive. I’m glad my wife saved me a piece when carving because the turkey was just destroyed. I understood why immediately upon tasting the meat. The meat was deeply flavored, deeply delicious, and tasty in a way that only smoked meat can taste. This turkey wasn’t just store-bought turkey. The bird had been prepared carefully, slowly, and it was absolutely delicious.
It raised a question in my mind. Why am I so afraid of failure? I have good gifts, I have talent, and I practice my craft. I cook dinner regularly in my house and I have never been afraid to attempt new things. I should believe in myself, but I regularly look in the mirror and assume the worst about myself. What if my fear really is just fear that should be put aside?
The situation reminds me of FDR’s first inaugural address in 1933. President Roosevelt stated “let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.” Facing a nation in a fiscal crisis with a vast imbalance of population and resources, FDR approached a dangerous situation with the belief that the nation must advance or perish. While my concerns are not nearly so dire, I will say that my own fears in life are often unreasonable and unjustified. President Roosevelt said later in that address:
“Happiness lies not in the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy of achievement, in the thrill of creative effort. The joy and moral stimulation of work no longer must be forgotten in the mad chase of evanescent profits. These dark days will be worth all they cost us if they teach us that our true destiny is not to be ministered unto but to minister to ourselves and to our fellow men.”
If true happiness lies in the joy of achieving things, then why am I so terrified of failure? Why do I fret about money, resources, and future criticism when happiness will not lie down those paths? Why do any of us live in such fear? I smoked a turkey that I filled with herbs from my own garden, basted in an oil I infused with my own instincts, and then slow roasted in a smoker that I altered with my own hands, My wife was right to be proud of me. Smoking a turkey is not rocket science, but the turkey was something that I enjoyed creating which I brought together through my own efforts in cooking, gardening, crafting, and patience. What’s more, I took that gift and shared it in a place where people could enjoy it without price or cost. I used my talents to bless others.
What would the church look like if we were to live out this love together? What if we were more concerned with our ministry to ourselves and to others than with looking at what we can take from the world around us? What if we found joy in our work as a community instead of chasing our own profits to our own doom?
My family has had two cats over the past few years. We have lived on church property and we need to deal with church mice. One of the cats had extra toes. My wife says she should keep her name. She called the cat Debbie. I called it Thumbs. Thumbs was a great mouser for many years.
The second cat is a black cat named Pepper. I’m allergic to cats. I didn’t need to rename this cat. Pepper makes me sneeze when it gets in my nose. Pepper make me sneeze when she rubs against my face. The name fits. Pepper is not the greatest of mousers.
Thumbs was very relaxed. Pepper seems a bit uptight. The two are almost completely different cats in terms of personality. I personally think it is because Pepper can’t operate the catapult. We have to get rid of those church mice somehow…
The phone rings. I greet the caller, answer questions, and look around before hanging up. My office is my world most mornings. My time is filled with notes to send, calls to return, and things to ponder. I look over to the stack of four books, but there are only three. I will have to run home as that book is on my to-do list.
I dash in the door a few minutes later. The dogs are excited. The cat could care less. I am thinking about a ringing phone with a frustrated person wondering why I have not answered the phone. I stumble over my daughter’s jacket. I careen into the kitchen while promising to have a word with her when she gets off the bus.
As I dash through the kitchen I gaze longingly at the coffee maker and the tin of cookies sitting nearby. The tempting tin is waiting for the kids. I filled it with cookies just last night. I bet they would taste great right about now. After all, the tin might be waiting for me. I think of my office phone ringing. I run into my office. I search for the book. I find nothing.
I dash in the kitchen again. I see the book sitting underneath a clean coffee mug. I remember that I left that breakable mug there to remind me to slow down that morning. I’ve been getting too worked up lately. The mug was a reminder to slow down.
I look at the coffee maker. The coffee maker is still warm and ready to brew. I pop in a pod, smell the coffee as it brews, take a sip, breathe deeply, and then I think of the phone. I can practically hear it impatiently ringing.
I rush in the door as the phone rings. I sit at my desk with the still warm coffee in my hands. I greet the caller, answer questions, and look around before hanging up. I breathe deeply, take a sip of the smooth blend, and look at my pile of four books… I remember where I found the mug as I count to three. Well, at least I have a cup of coffee.
Distracted Pastor Ramblings 