KARL BARTH AT THE SPA

EASTER SERMON OF KARL BARTH

TALKING WITH PRISONERS

LUXURY HOTEL READING

These cool sheets on the Heavenly Bed

with all these pillows

in white pillow cases

propping me up as I pray.

Pray and read. At prayer.

We know well are plight and Thou

knowest it better. Wherever

people are gathered today.

Because I live, you will live also

John's Gospel says. ¿y todavía

no me conoces? El que me a visto

a mi, a visto el Padre. I'm stuffed,

just back from barbecue,

pulled pork shoulder and brisket--

and I didn't eat too much! Finished

my cole slaw and baked beans!

Oh, those burnt ends!

Barth delivers the captives in God's name,

not because we enjoy dealing with God,

not because we believe he's easy to follow--

no, none of that! Not because of promotion.

I'm on vacation and I live a very different life.

I know what is at stake here.

My life is at stake. My very life.

Like the man in the starched shirt says,

People die for these white sheets

on the Heavenly Bed. What more

could we do to have you stay with us?

Jim Bodeen

29 November 2017

Shards of Memory

HIKING BROWN'S RANCH TRAIL LATE NOVEMBER

Leaving my small town on a small plane

in the middle of the night, I'm reminded

what Emily Dickinson said about the mind,

how it needs what it can't know--

more than it needs any Aha! Take me there!

I tell the bus driver. Take me where news

I can't remember can't run intersections,

where everything from now is old. Older,

he asks, than Brown's Ranch settled

by E. O. Brown, a Scottsdale entrepreneur,

early part of last century? He ran thousands

head of cattle on 44000 acres. Before that?

Before that they were unwanted newcomers

to Yavapai and Apache. They came early 1600s,

hunting, occasionally raiding Pima settlements.

Desert farming Hohokam settled in valleys,

about 1300s. Before them, agriculture

became important about 1000 Common Era.

Earliest evidence places nomadic bands

on Brown's Ranch 9000 years ago.

Yavapai and Apache resistance

led to Army forts and reservations.

How far towards oblivion do you seek?

Tell me about Sonoran Desert mercies,

toward drought and famine. OK,

we'll pass under power lines before you walk.

The sun comes up over Tom's Thumb

and backlights ocatillo for the camera.

This is early light dramatic shadow.

Here, the beauty of oblivion, not knowing.

Exhaustion of trail or beauty? Water thirst.

Another bus ride back. A woman slakes fear-

thirst mixing what renews for one like me.

Organic frozen fruit chunks, clear cider--

sparkling--and Passionfruit. Float orange

slices on top with skewers of dried fruit.

Jim Bodeen

28 November 2017

SHARDS OF MEMORY

When they all came,

they slept in sleeping bags,

they slept in the desert,

they build shelter from materials

that manipulated visions.

It was a manipulation

by nature of the self.

Coyotes, bobcats, javelinas.

No straight walls,

no smooth walls,

no right angles.

Always stories,

always stories.

Flat sides of rocks

and no place to sit.

Public side, private side.

Jim Bodeen

18 November 2017

Saying what must be saved

WHAT RAY CARVER SAID

            I'm searching for phrases

            Bob Dylan

We save so many things Ray

said, but we never met. He said,

Use it up, going from short stories

to poems, until he gave the page

all he had. I stumbled

into the Oregon town he was born in

once coming back from the ocean.

We pulled off to have a sandwich,

snapped some pics at the memorial,

went into the small library

and took his books off the shelf

and read poems for an hour. The Dylan

epigraph comes from Tempest,

the song, Just After Midnight,

and Dylan's punching in,

going to work. Just after

he sings Searching for phrases,

describing his process of writing,

he sings, to sing your praises.

My take on this is the muse.

That you --you and I--we live,

Zev, in the era of Dylan,

and we know that.

Knowing that pretty much

does us in, finishes us.

We're so thankful for this,

we're speechless. The others

at the table, we owe them

the kindness we owe family.

With that one exception we're allowed.

I don't have to spell it out.

We don't have anything to add.

Jim 

27 Nov 2017 /Scottsdale, AZ

¿Cómo está su vida litúrgico?

PURSLANE AS SINGLE-ROOTED PARABLE

Don Eduardo y Luz walk us to the

community garden, late September

in Sacramento, where we pick

two kinds of eggplant, berenjena,

a small handful of serranos,

two California chiles, and I grab

the weed I've pulled for half a century in Yakima--

purslane with the tiny yellow flowers--

Jim, Jim, Jim, esta es yerba buena,

la verdolaga. Usamos en ensalada.

Sabroso. I'm wearing a Yerba Buena gorra

from San Francisco. Luz steams

the verdulaga before dinner, adding

it with beets to the salad. Part

of the resistance in her city,

Teología de la liberación es parte

de los raices de Pastor Eduardo.

Leo Los Salmos en nuestra recamarra

antes de dormir. En busqueda

de la felicidad. Gritos y clamores

de protesta. Gritos contra la injustia social.

Temas de Luz y Don Eduardo.

At breakfast Don Eduardo sings

the entire liturgy for me in Spanish.

El libro sobre los salmos está llamandome.

How is your liturgical life?

¿Cómo está su vida litúrgico?

Jim Bodeen

22 November 2017

AFTER-THANKSGIVING HIKE

HIKING COWICHE CANYON WITH GRANDKIDS

THE DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING

All stones basalt, and I fear

we won't find much. Sammie

calls them meatball stones

and I call her metaphor

a find. Dheezus finds

a 5-pounder with a waterfall

down the center

we stash on the trail

so she doesn't have

to pack it both ways.

The girls smell

sage walking

through it, picking

leaves, rubbing them

into hair, stuffing

pockets. Sammie

sees money

building itself

into the horizon,

calls it out,

Show-off mansions.

We're walking the Loop

to Cowiche Creek

stopping where out

croppings create

photo perches

children knew

before they were born.

The girls remember

their hike on Mt. Rainier

this summer, when

they refused the trail

because feet threatened

mating grasshoppers.

Sammie finds a

fist-sized heart-shaped

stone with a lake in it.

Dheezus curls her body

into a ledge. We stop

on a sitting stone

large enough

for the three of us

and shell peanuts

discussing how plants grow.

Jim Bodeen

25 November 2017

Sky Canyon opens for children the way abundance shows itself in dreams. Oh, Jeez, we say, waking. Ears for the people is not everyone's crystal cup. How do we know the things we know before we were born? This is the mystery of children, and my option. It strikes me this morning that this was my mother's option also. At the time I thought it was a safe place to land.

THANKSGIVING, 2017

If you're going to San Francisco
wear a flower

THE POEM THAT WISHES

FOR ITSELF AN ETERNITY

            for Karen on our 49th Anniversary

Karen, you've been with me

every day of the poem.

Before you, seeking the poem,

the poem is all I wanted,

I wanted to be a poet

but didn't know

what a poem was

or how to make one.

When you came

I knew it was you

knowing a poem

was in order, in fact,

an order, and a poem

was ordered. When

you came, the poem

came with you,

you were the poem

but I didn't know,

I knew but didn't know

knowing I didn't.

You embodied me

without my knowing.

I never made

what I found in you

finding out in time.

I never made you,

finding out in time

that you made me.

Love, Jim

23 November 2017

ELEGY WITH SUPREME LOVE

from painting by Rex DeLoney

NIGHT MOUNTAIN SKY SONG

Coltrane on a rainy morning.

Chasing Train.

A love Supreme. Acknowledgment.

Acknowledging. That big,

the music. Mark Karn

carrying music. Carries

Crazy Horse

calling up Neil Young,

Christ hunter Orion

calling on His Father.

Big love. Big love.

Bonhoeffer big.

Life Together. That one.

Joined by the stars.

One who wants fellowship

without solitude plunges

What we can't claim

right here in our hands.

Before the baptismal font

leaving worship

arms in wonder-reach

Christ secure.

A love supreme

A love supreme

A love supreme

A love supreme

Jim Bodeen

10 November 2017