While I walked the streets of Windsor, ON

Whittier College students respond to Dr. Mykee

My Homeboy Under the Red Light

My Homeboy under the Red Light

“Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you? The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”
Matthew 25:37-40

Sometimes they come to me,
asking if I personally know Jesus.

I’ve seen him on so many occasions.

Once
I saw him on a tee shirt
where he comforted me,
and told me he was my homeboy.

Once
while down in the Village
I saw him, and he was homeless,
drunk and hungry.
He asked me if I had any change;
he needed a drink.
I asked Jesus if he was hungry,
and I offered him pizza and some company.

Once
I saw Jesus in a Japanese restaurant.
She was eyeing me with seductive smiles,
and sauntered over to me, seeking conversation.
She told me that she could free men.
She asked me if I wanted to know her and be free.
I told her that I was already free,
but still, I would follow her to the place she would lead.
I followed her into a motel room where she would free men.
Since I was not interested in being freed,
Jesus hid me in the bathroom,
while two men,
(with the grunts and euphoria of an altar call),
were freed.

Afterwards, Jesus spoke to me:
“How is it that you see me for who I am,
and not what I do?”

Once
I met Jesus while I was in Amsterdam.
She was stuck in a room, and I saw her,
and there was a Red Light that shone down upon her.
I wanted to ask this rabbi so many questions
about her mission under the Red Lights.
Jesus told me that for 80 Euros she would give me
answers to some of my questions.
So for 80 Euros, I asked Jesus what truth
she had discovered about all men.

And Jesus spoke,
            “I come from another land, where men came to me,
            promising the riches of heaven, if I sacrificed my body
            and bore their sins. So, I sacrificed for men,
            and they ate of my body and drank of my wine,
            swearing that they did it all in remembrance of me.
            And I, willingly, with the promise of a new earth,
            consented to the sacrifice, allowing men to crucify me,
            to scourge me, to revile and love me;
            I make all things new.”

Once
there was a spotting of Jesus, witnessed by a 17 year old boy,
during the worst day of his life. The boy was standing at his locker in Gethsemane,
shaking, holding back the tears and sweat
that fell like blood. When he turned around Jesus locked eyes with him.
The 17 year old boy felt naked and exposed,
and he tried to cover himself. But Jesus,
like all master healers, understood time; he knew this was not the day
for this precious lamb to be slaughtered.
Jesus breathed deeply, placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders,
and spoke, “It’s going to get better, so you must hang in there.”

Once
I saw Jesus, angered by my voice in the wilderness.
I was crying out, (to anyone who would listen), about hope.
Jesus spoke, “This is not the time for hope. Do you not know
that I bring a sword to divide? Do you not see the Dragon?”
And there before my eyes, Jesus showed me the dragon creature,
soaring across her back. She spoke again, “Do not tell a soul,
but that Dragon is my savior, for it hides the scars,
given to me from my blessed mother and her hot, anointing oil.”

Frequently,
when I pass by mirrors, I see Jesus.
He has much or little to say. He looks like me and them and they.
At times, he comforts: “You are beautiful.” “I forgive you,
so forgive yourself.” “Be true to you.”
At times, she reminds me: “You are not alone.” “Remember, they hated me first.”
But most of all, Jesus speaks in the way I understand best:
“You are my song of songs, a love poem, so bloom and spread everywhere
and across everyone.”

A student
once asked me if I knew Jesus.
I smiled, then exhaled, “I see you, don’t I?”

 

8/7/2013
msf

The Transfer of Genes

The clearest evidence of growth is admitting the parts of one's self that were shaped by one's lineage; the shadows and lights given to us by our genomes, influenced by both nature and nurture.

Last night, sitting with my daughter, running through some mathematics flash cards, I heard the stern voice of my father saying, "Come on, Saskia, this should be automatic. You need to know this stuff like a reflex." Internally, I laughed. I am my father's son; not in all areas, but make no mistake, my father's blood runs deep in my veins.

Exactly Where I Need to Be

Simple, yet so difficult for us to surrender to its truth.

642 Things to Write About

http://www.amazon.com/Things-Journal-Francisco-Writers-Grotto/dp/1452105448/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1376310964&sr=1-1&keywords=642+things+to+write+about

Based on my reference above, based on the book, 642 Things To Write About, I would like to share a few of my responses from that book with you.

Prompt: Arsenic

My Response: From where can I get some? ... Just to store away for a rainy day ... for someone else.

Prompt: A Present from your mother

My Response: Her gift of sacrifice; her willingness to go to Kmart and beg for forgiveness to the store manager based on my crime of shoplifting. My mother said it like this -- "I will come down to the store and beg on my knees in front of everyone, so you may take compassion upon my son and I, and not bring him to court." -- I am still moved by her gift.

Prompt: I can't go into this right now, but if I could, I'd tell you this...

My Response: I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified of your rejection so I do not want to speak of this right now. But if you choose to, I am open to your thoughts, at another time. This life is too short for us to miss these moments. You have been a force of quirky love in my life. I am paralyzed by all that is you. I only pretend to be less interested in you, in hopes that I may avoid all sorrow. But I know the truth: risk not taken is a life not lived. So, I pray that I go boldly, in hopes that the mighty forces may rescue me.

Transatlantic Poetry

I wrote a poem in English, then, via an online translator, I put the poem through several other non-English languages, then finally, I translated it back to English. The following poems are the original English version then its transatlantic version.

Haiku
(transatlantic: English-spanish-dutch-english)

Original:

I miss home tonight.
People are all around me.
I am so alone.

Transatlantic:

I don't miss this evening at home.

All the people around me.

I am only.

 

How my life goes
(Transatlantic: English-Hebrew-Persian-English)

Original:

this is the story of how my life goes
of a rage as old as freshly fallen snow
the twists and turns pinched on a peculiar road
where i’ve tried to live as if i were really bold

we’ve got sadness and laughter and the jesus craze
long nights of drinking scotch with the wild sex days
i want to tell you all but i’m much too afraid
so hey

i was the boy who often felt alone
i prayed: dear god don’t leave me on my own
my feet are sinking and i’m standing on a tombstone
will i ever really feel much at home

i got three kids and two of them i really didn’t want
but now that they’re here i accept them like my thoughts
i’m standing still even though my urge is to walk
so hey

Transatlantic:

This is my life story of how the new old anger headlock,
snow fell on roads blocked concluded that I tried
to live as if it's really bold

We are sad, laughter, Christ there was a craze
last time of the night of drinking water
they live with Scotland sex days
I want to say to you but I am scared so much
say hello,

I was a child often feel alone
I pray that God drowning in my feet,
I of the government will ever really at home,

I three children,
two of them that I really do not want to
but now that they are here, as I accept my thoughts
I still there is need for me to go
say hello

The Purple Bridge
(Transatlantic: English-Swedish-Chinese-English)

Original:

There's a bridge that turns purple
into white
I was walking on that bridge
being asked to choose between the purple and the white
So I started heading for the light, the white
because that's what I've been taught to do
always move towards the white
always move towards the light

But I am purple
I am staying with purple
I am staying with the purple light
I am staying with purple tonight
I am purple man
I am staying with me tonight

Transatlantic:

Has the rotation purple and white
I goes to the bridge to request the bridge
of between choice
in the purple and white, therefore I start in the light, white, because is any I always moves in the optics toward the white always comes, but I purple

I and I and purple light will stay together
I and purple will stay together
the purple will stay together
I am the purple person
I tonight and I stay together tonight