Category: Poetry, Psychology, Science and Religion, Spiritual Formation, Suffering
Masters of stimulation,
Servants of distraction.
The tide of technology
Tickles the ears
With what we want to hear:
The titillating sound of baristas
Calling our name,
Making us glad we came:
“Grande caramel macchiato,
With a caramel wall
And an extra shot.”
Science slips on the banana peel
Of your right to choose,
Whether you want it or not.
Truth is no longer our prized possession.
Entertainment is the jewel in our diadem
Diversion is the magician’s moral code.
The rabbit of consumerism
Disappears into thin air.
Leaves an outstanding balance of despair.
More like relativity
With no accountability.
Facts without wisdom.
Parts stripped from the whole
Like caramel from a macchiato
Takes its diabetic toll.
We must hide the remote control.
Otherwise, we press play,
Negating our quiet place—
Where our mind calls “home,”
Where the kingdom of God roams.
What’s at stake? You ask.
Listen to silence
If you can hack it.
Facebook can be a harmful wasteland,
Social media a well-purposed racket.
A dose of dopamine
Into our bloodstream
Every time we look at the screen
To excite the same neural circuitry
Used by cocaine and slot machines.
Don’t be duped
Thinking knowledge is wisdom;
It’s just information—
A complicated conspiracy
To sell us what we don’t need:
Garages with impulsive bought toys
And bookshelves with faithless white noise.
Create sacred space
Between you and the demands of life
That don’t apologize for getting up
In your face,
Leaving you feeling like a failure
In this rigmarole we call “life’s rat race.”
Inhale the fragrance of our forefathers.
Exhale the toxic fumes of overindulgence that leaves us feeling dizzy.
Bring back the art
Of silence and simplicity.
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Category: Beauty, Poetry
You exuded confidence
like one of Zeus’s thunderbolts
and beauty, oh greatness,
beauty that rivaled the cause
of the Trojan War—
Helen of Sparta’s passionate revolt.
Category: JESUS, Poetry, Psychology, Theology
how quickly we forget,
laying down palm branches
to casting stones a week later,
breaking stained glass windows
to our mansions,
crucifying our Creator.
Category: Gospel, JESUS, Psychology, Short Stories, Suffering, Theology
The Ragman stopped his cart. Quietly, he walked to the woman, stepping round tin cans, dead toys, and Pampers.
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