Skin

Skin discloses unrealized dreams:
people moved with desires,
thinking about children they never had,
the books they never wrote,
the world they hoped to change.

Skin tells secrets:
it cracks like desert ground;
it uncovers the trails of life,
telling how long you have been here.

White skin,
black skin,
brown skin...
speak loud.
And when it is covered,
it itches.

poem by Buxton Shippy
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Abba Sigh

In the midst of terror
Dry bones sing
Earth vomits
Innocent blood shed
Creation shudder

Heart stained
Where greed left its mark
Human predators multiplied
Canibalism on the rise
With eyes open
Compassion in a casket died

In the midst of terror
Rivers flow
Babies cry
Angels spit
The wicked man dread
Abba sigh

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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Beyond The Grave

They stumbled over each other
to reach the only exit
from the dark and putrid room.
Here they had been confined
since the Nazis
rounded them up
like sheep.

There were no means of escape
but oblivious of the gas chamber,
they tried anyway.
Each one squeezing
through the battened door
like toothpaste.

Decades later
we can still hear
the ghosts wailing:
No reprieve!
Justice now!

poem by Buxton Shippy
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Cheating Pain

Time is of the essence,
Cheating pain
I'll pray
I'll give
You send the rain.

All we can do
To mitigate the suffering
Anything to alleviate the agony
In Jesus' name.

Count the minutes
Even the hours
Feel the POWER
In His holy name.

Natural Sciences
Cannot measure this;
Holy Ghost power,
Eternal frame.

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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Exposed Reds

The Reds speak and write scholarly
About inequity
And The Struggle
Seemed honorable,
Innocuous and heroic
Until The Struggle becomes a profession,
An economic vehicle for the artists
And politicians
The tools of The Reds are blinding
Stimulative and emotive
Leaving young minds wanting

He was a Red before he criticized one
The priests were Red
Then they prayed
Liberators became
Ethnic cleansers

poem by Buxton Shippy
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In Memory Of Mateland

Dear friend
I just found out
You died a terrible death
My heart sunk
When I heard the news
I said a short prayer
Asking God
To let you rest
In peace.

Then it came to mind
The last time
I saw you
And the state
You were in:
You asked for money
Which I gave you
Later I was told
You foraged the dump
For food.

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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Sketch

The storm, fierce and unrelenting
Still He slept in the midst of its rage.
Terrified, they begged Him:
He spoke and the storm obeyed.

She was scorned
Because of her illness
Yet she did not stop believing;
Touched His garment
And received her healing.

Although guilty of many trespasses,
He forgives and redeems.
Although death deserving,
He gives life everlasting.
Even though we hate,
His love unyielding.

poem by Buxton Shippy
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Thank You Jesus

It comes at a set time
every month.
You get used to It
until It does not come.

Then all the 'what ifs'
flood your mind.
You cannot sleep
because the 'what ifs'
steal your peace.

Suddenly, a still voice
says don't vent on the wife.
Don't vent on the children,
just stay pray-up
until the 'what ifs'
go away.

I yielded to the voice
and my mind steadied.

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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Sketch-2

Long time on earth...
Life after school,
Life after work,
Life after death;
I'm heading to New Jerusalem:
Where are you going?

Cannot die twice:
Double jeopardy.
I shall live,
I shall live eternally.
No more darkness,
No more pain,
And if it rains
When I see Him,
My last refrain.
For Zion gate opens my way.

In heaven tax collectors restrained.
In heaven my doors are open,

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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Corpus Christi

The dismembering Body is weak,
Sickened by contrived doctrines
And eclectic denominations,
As we eat the same Body
And drink the same Blood.

Confusion dominates
Where you established Order.
Now we compete to make a buck
And Diabolist and Chaos reign
Over the Losts.

O Christus reform us
With the clay of unity
So we talk the talk,
Walk the walk
And sing to the same tune.
O Christus
This is not the Body you made.

poem by Buxton Shippy
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