CHALLENGE, by Bart Wolffe

My angel, evidently, has broken wings, still tries to lift me up,

It also somehow clearly seems, my chalice forms a broken cup,

The song I dream from my cracked lips, the bowl from which I sup

Imperfect too, a blemished thing, rides like my shirt untucked.

Yet from the grist and guts of it twists my remaining luck,

As one who wins just second place my thoughts also run amok.

From my wrist I fashion it, unclenching my tight fist a bit

Into an open palm in order not to strike a blow or hit out at anyone;

– If God were perfect and could fit together like an answered prayer,

Love would take me home to him borne on such a rarer air.

Yet truth is not enough I fear and hope but mere deceit

And from what I’ve seen everywhere, Life ends always in defeat.

For this I am guilty to declare my challenge to miracles anywhere,

God, prove me wrong, if you dare to show me nurture and not harm

Or else at least to show you care a damn with truth to accept me as I am

Not just judge my lack of charm or doom my gloom right down.

I’d like to sing of second birth and say heaven is to be found on earth

But from the dirth my dirges groan with lack of thrumming mirth

And thirst for meaning makes me bleak and black as my parched tongue

When champagne springs and angel wings are only when you’re young.


POSTED 29.09.08 BY: paulabbott | Comments (4)

4 Responses to “CHALLENGE, by Bart Wolffe”

  1. On September 29th, 2008 at 10:47 pm Ian said:

    what led to this posting – what are you saying?

  2. On September 29th, 2008 at 11:27 pm aaron said:

    Sorry, I omitted to include the author, Bart Wolffe’s name is the post too. Not saying anything actually, just posting on his behalf.

  3. On September 30th, 2008 at 10:44 am carey said:

    I really like this, thanks for posting it Aaron, and thanks Bart for writing it!

    Expresses a familiar feeling very eloquently…

  4. On September 30th, 2008 at 3:48 pm gareth said:

    love it – great poem…