The Tulip Driven Life Podcast

Thursday, February 9, 2012

"The Retribution of the Antinomian," a poem by Thomas Booher

The world spinned 'round

But patience, it stopped ticking

As men kept living

And no one was listening

Love, laughs, and fun

From beginning to ending

No work in the sun

Night waking, day sleeping.

The doorknob turned

Yet it was not unusual

For late in the night

Came some for carousal

The creatures' blades

Oh how they shined like the sun!

The bleary-eyed folk

Knew they would be undone

"But for what 'venge?"

Did all but two of them say,

"We've done nothing wrong

Why pass you by our way?"

One creature spoke, 

"Because it's fitting, you see,

For us to take you

We were sent by decree."

"Aye, a demon!"

Cried one with a dark bottle

"No, you simple fool!

 His wrath's here to throttle!"

Yes, the two spoke

For the two alone knew, what

Creatures stood firmly,

What God's wrath could so do. 

They thrashed them all,

Yes the two, too. And the blood-

It spilt and stained red, 

The walls, angels, and mud.

Corpses were drug

To the middle of Times Square

Where the whole world saw

God's wrath on display there.

The signs all changed,

And then the angels all sang,

"Glory to our God,

For the sting of His fang.

A stranger passed,

In awe of such great display

He opened His mouth, 

He had something to say

"How can this be?

Did these not 'fess and proclaim

Love for your Maker,

Love for His holy name?"

"Nay, it's not so,"

Spoke one of the great angels,

"This blood here was spilt,

So none do dare dangle,

With the devil,

And the foul ilk of his part.

For do you not know

That the acts prove the heart?

Let it be said,

What has happened this dark day,

Was perfect justice,

'Hard works' poetic pay

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

No More Pains: A Poem By Jesse Stiemann

How do we return to that place?
Where we gazed out o'er the earth's face?
The sun did not burn; it still shined strong,
All was just and bright; we knew no wrong,

The beasts, they did roam peacefully,
The rivers flowed calm as could be,
We tilled the garden, there was no thorn,
We knew no loss, no reason to mourn,

The moment came; we did not trust,
Gave in to greed, our foolish lust,
The serpent, yes, he told us a lie,
Now we toil and sweat, fated to die,

How could we be so senseless?
We stole the fruit of goodness,
As we took we pondered our fate,
Eyes opened now, too little, too late.

Embarrassed by this naked frame,
We sewed leaves, concealing shame,
As God came, we hid ourselves away,
Though He still knew right where we did lay,

He asked, had I eaten of the tree?
I blamed the woman, easily,
God asked the woman, “What have you done?”
“It was the serpent, he was the one,”

Eve said, “He deceived and I ate,”
God cursed the serpent with this fate:
“With no legs you crawl, eat dust now instead,
You will strike his heel, but he will crush your head.”

God spoke to me, cursing the ground,
Childbearing pained, the woman found,
Our treason done, God sent us away,
No more in the garden did we stay,

That is just a dream we hope to regain,
We toil and we sweat, but not in vain,
God promised a redeemer to break these chains,
The earth will be perfect again with no more pains.