DISQUS

GoodWordEditing.com: Easter Poem - Surprised by a Styrofoam Jesus

  • L.L. Barkat · 1 year ago
    I love it as much now as I did the first time I read it, so long ago on that other blog. (I liked all the poetry that hung out there, surprising me, like this styrofoam Jesus surprised you.)

    And it was nice that you gave it life with your voice. No offense here, just admiration.
  • Marcus · 1 year ago
    It's always good to hear from you, L.L. I'm working on another inspired by Mt. Hermon. Amy says it's close to being ready.
  • Susan · 1 year ago
    A blessed and joy-filled Easter to you and your family Marcus!

    He is risen INDEED!
  • Sally Ferguson · 1 year ago
    Wishing you Easter blessings, Mark!
  • L.L. Barkat · 1 year ago
    Amy, can you provide this service to other writers? :)
  • Heather Goodman · 1 year ago
    Love the poem.
    Just one more day!
  • Marcus · 1 year ago
    Susan, Sally, L.L., and Heather, thanks for the encouragement all. I hope you had a wonderful Easter.
  • Amy · 1 year ago
    L.L. - whatever you are writing - it's ready! :)
  • L.L. Barkat · 1 year ago
    Amy, that's a sure encouragement. Can you pass that bit of wisdom on to my HC editor?
  • a. anjeanette · 1 year ago
    Mark, I'm new here, but LL recommended that I start browsing so here I am! :-)
    Liked the poem; "buy the cross get the Jesus" indeed. Liked even more your thought: "Too often, I think American Christians can’t be surprised by Jesus anymore." You're right that there are some tables that need overturning. I'm hopeful that our generation is the one that will let Jesus upset the status quo here.
  • laura · 7 months ago
    How lovely to stumble on this as I peruse the latest offerings from L.L.'s poetry challenge!

    I smiled at the silliness at first glance, then gasp at the truth in how I tuck my Jesus away.

    Oh, Lord. Help me bring you out of the back room!

    Blessed Holy Week.
  • sojourner · 7 months ago
    this made me smile thank you!
  • L.L. Barkat · 6 months ago
    I know this poem. Still. Listening yet again (I listened, yes, because poetry is supposed to be heard, I hear)... listening yet again, I shivered. A real shiver, at the arm poking out, the bleached face, the waiting Jesus in a back room, intimate space.