Friday, September 20, 2013

Pop Quiz

by Jen Hunt, from the archives

Who do you say I am?
Get it right and
It could be the million dollar question
A non-smoking, extra leg room
Window-seat-to-heaven opportunity

We feel sorry for Simon,
Wondering if we’d have posited so confidently
Under similar handicaps

That is, without...
... interference
It could be approached from so many possible angles
A trick question
Great improver of mankind?
Time's running out
Better hold out for Kant Barth Kirkegaard
Personified ideal of the good principle
Where's my concordance

Yes, give Pete some credit
After all, the quest for the historical Jesus had not yet begun,
Poor Peter couldn't traditio-histor-Him away
Impossible to grasp how Pete could say
No thanks to the 20-page write-up in ISBE

Yet, this is what Simon, illumined, did answer
And with that answer timely given
Was issued the keys to the kingdom of heaven

Friday, September 13, 2013

On words and worlds

by Jen Hunt, from the archives

Ironic, isn’t it
Blank screen my canvas,
Still stumped days later

How to speak
About One
Who spoke and it

No day six replay
No webcam live
To deny it denies self
A creature linked in time
To a world called
Very good
By its Creator

And after everything
I, who am but an echo springing
From those first vowels,
Have I nothing
To say in return?

God of my father
And yours
The LORD, the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob
Yahweh, who spoke and
E v e r y t h i n g was
I am

You, O LORD, are magnificent
A never-before world sprang to life
From your lips
By your decree let there be
Words from me
Worthy of One
Who always has been

Saturday, September 7, 2013

It’s the Thought That Counts

Our gift is kind of simple: a cake plate and toaster tongs,
But it comes with sincere wishes for love a lifetime long--
So no matter if it’s dainty sweets or toast that’s over-done,
Every meal will be as pleasant as the day you became one.
(Wedding card sent with cake plate and toaster tongs).

The REBT Rap

If you want to know the secret of a happy, happy life
There’s a therapy I’ll teach you—put an end to all yer strife
Now I’m no Albert Einstein, I think you may agree
There is somethin’ kind of special ‘bout REBT theory

‘Cause having perfect children, perfect worlds or perfect me’s
Has been slightly overrated, says the other Albert E.

Well, my son plugged his ears tightly when he heard my sorry best
So I might not win a stint or two as poet laureate
Or a Mustang or a scholarship that pays off this degree
But just getting’ out and trying will be good enough for me

‘Cause having perfect children, perfect worlds or perfect me’s
Has been slightly overrated, so says REB&T

I think ol’ Mr. Ellis would be proud of you and me
For thinkin’ up a ditty based on his philosophy
So practical ‘n’ thoughtful and as graceful as could be
Blending therapist instruction with a dose of empathy

Now R it stands for Rational, but don’t make no mistake
It’s not just because it’s used on Vulcans, ‘goodness sake
If you interview yer clients and you find they “musterbate”
“Crying positively awful!” get ‘em help ‘for it’s too late!

E is fer Emotive ‘cause ol’ Ellis became sad
When too many peers assumed this tool was rigid, cold and bad
So he put E in the title just to help his critics see
Many more could use his theory than the Spock on Trek TV

B stands fer, well, this time perhaps you all should tell me
Behavior’l—Yes! Exactly! How to change your crooked deeds
It seems if you identify and shift yer unseen lies
You’re bound to git more mental health than honey catches flies

The fourth and final letter, as you’ve guessed, is Mr. T
For Therapy of present tense and thoughts you cannot see
Which muck up your composure and increase all of your pain
Getting you stuck in dumb circles over and over again.

Yes, having perfect children, perfect worlds or perfect me’s
Has been slightly overrated, so says REB&T.

This rap may not’ve helped you, but I know it sure helped me
To eliminate foul thinkin’ and avoid some misery
I could’ve stayed up fretting ‘bout what I must say to you
To prove that I was perfect, like neurotic students do

Instead I took a breather and replaced that faulty lie
So my sleepin’ got much sounder, ‘cause I knew I wouldn’t die
If this part couldn’t be polished before I got me here today
And was boring, or your snoring threw my genius down the drain (drain?)

Sure, the rhyming could be sweeter and the meter could as well
But if you say you can do better, you can just…! ...I’ll just try to tell myself
“I might be slightly bummed out, but there’s no catastrophe”
‘Cause this Albert here has proven you’re as imperfect as me!

Friday, September 6, 2013


by Jen Hunt, from the archives

Iridescence is God's palette, the wash of highest heaven. If there is housecleaning in heaven--I'm not saying there is, but if there is--then the dust bunnies are made of this shimmering stuff. Wear it, and you're in dress rehearsal for paradise. I don't know why, but it seems God gave things that fly and things that swim a jump start on the path to glorification. Most insignificant things-- the neck of a pigeon, the eye of a fly, the belly of a trout-- are blessed from the start with some brush of His opalescence. Humans, though made just a bit lower than the angels, aren't quite so lucky. I need the help of L'Oreal's silverpearl coral frost lipstick just to get out the door. How much would you give for angel fingerprints?
On earth such glint is elusive, a fragile hand-blown bubble. The word itself simply slips off the tongue, leaving ripples of goosebumps over your skin. It’s more like a transient verb than a noun. You experience it in passing, in the glaze which paints the inside of your eyelids as you recline in a tub, listening to George Winston cascade through your subconscious. Take time out. Relax temporarily. Forget about all the sharp colors which pinched you all day. Try a bathbead full of glory. Now, put on your John Lennon glasses and imagine there is a heaven. In an eye twinkle we truly will pass through those pearly gates.
Iridescence whispers "God was here". It is not one color. It is the sanctified state which all colors everywhere hope one day to become.