Queen Ivana's Poetry
My heart overflows with a good theme ... my tongue is the pen of a ready writer. Psalm 45:1

What is poetry? In my opinion it is:

Rhythm and rhyme
Free verse and song
Soulful expression
Revisiting the past
Sharing future dreams
Revealing heart desires
Read my mind a little
See through my eyes
Feel through my heart
Walk a bit in my shoes
Words from my mouth
To your ears
Touching your life
A voice of passion
From my soul to yours
© 2004 Christian I. J. Minter

Hopefully my words of passion will touch your soul with its familiarity or give you a peek into situations you may not have experienced.

Provider

Sweat of my brow
Toiling nine to five
Wife to care for
Children to feed

Man of the house
It all falls on me

Pink slip
Empty wallet
Bare fridge
Bill collectors calling

Man of the house
It all falls on me

Daily searching
Never finding
Making ends meet
By the skin of my teeth

Man of the house
It all falls on me

Finite strength
Limited resources
Father in heaven
Feed my children

Jehovah-jireh
Is the eternal provider
As the man of the house
It's time to fall on my knees
© 2004 Christian I. J. Minter

Good Hair

They say clothes make the man
But good hair makes the woman
Or so it seems for the sistahs
Always comparing, contrasting, complaining
Does it line up with what is good?
Does it flow?
Does it hang?
Does it blow in the wind?
Is it straight? (oh glory!)
Fine and loosely curly? (good enough)
Don't let it be bad!
Tight kinky curls
Thick wiry coils
Big poofy fro
In defiance of gravity
Girl, do something with that mess!
You're only as good as your hair
Or so it seems for the sistahs
The unblessed ones run for help
To tame the defiant fro
Burning chemicals
Damaging heat
Heavy grease
Anything to make it lay down
Flat and straight and good
Don't let it go back!
But then comes the side effects
Of superficial good hair
Thinning strands losing their fullness
Raggedy ends constantly breaking
Receding hairlines
Resorting to wigs and weaves and extensions
No hair is better than bad hair
Or so it seems for the sistahs
Is this the way we want it?
No appreciation for natural beauty
Degrading what God gave us
Shackled to the lye
Bondage passed from one generation to another
Striving for the unnatural standard
Of straight, sleek and shiny
Good hair is sought at all costs
Or so it seems for the sistahs
© 2004 Christian I. J. Minter

Best Friend

Jamila Aisha
Beautiful life
You have enriched mine
Since the moment we met
Jump rope in the park
Little girl looking up to you
That was me
Reaching out to a shy girl
Who had just joined the church
That was you
Long talks on the phone
Late into the night
That was us
Laughter, sorrow, mischief
The sharing of secrets and dreams
Life's unexpected twists and turns
Sisterly wisdom and chidings
Comaraderie and like-mindedness
A friendship that remains strong
Against the test of time
Life is beautiful
Because you are a part of mine
© 2004 Christian I. J. Minter

Silver in the Rain

Rainy day
Gloomy day
I don't wanna feel this way
Clouds of grief
Clouds of gloom
Where's the silver lining?
Rain from the sky
Tears from my eyes
Someone's laid to rest today
Mourn for me
Mourn for him
Gone from this life forever
Encourage me
Rejoice for him
Receiving his eternal reward
Rainy day
Gloomy day
Sliver of sunshine comes my way
Absent from us
Present with God
Never to feel pain again
Clouds of grief
Clouds of gloom
I see the gleam of silver
The rain will stop
The clouds will part
God is my silver lining
© 2004 Christian I. J. Minter

Apologies for Being Me

I am noticed by him
He desires to know me
Hindered by my inner reserve
knowing me is not easy

Tongue-tied once again
Awkward silences
My apologies for being me
shy and aloof once more

Gentle prodding
attempting to draw me out
Amused and frustrated
desiring simple conversation

No patience for my bashfulness
Promising to talk again soon
he doesn't
Finding better company elsewhere

Deep embarassment
Feeling foolish once again
Only I would have difficulty
in allowing words to flow back and forth

I apologize for being me
for the caution holding back my words
I apologize to deaf ears
He has better company elsewhere

On the fringe of the social circle
I observe those in the center
Those who are easily known
around whom the rest of us revolve

I apologize for not being you
freely sharing yourself with the world
I apologize to deaf ears
There is better company elsewhere
© 2004 Christian I. J. Minter

Midnight Plea

Shadows slither
through my mind,
muttering incantations
of tomorrow's failure.

Worry huddles in the corner,
trembling fingers
picking at knots
of unsolved problems.

My eyelids flutter,
unable to latch for the night,
despite the web of exhaustion
binding me.

I yearn for my pain
to melt like a snowflake
on warm skin.
I want to be cradled
in His promises of safety,
swayed by the lullaby of His love,
my head cushioned on His faithfulness.

Imploring in the darkness,
I punch the pillow,
shift the covers,
and wait
for the Shepherd to lull me to sleep.
© 2005 Christian I. J. Minter


In Memory of An Unnamed Woman

So many eyes
sending mute warnings:
�you are unclean.�

Vicious whispers hiss around you,
as you walk veiled by shame,
clutching the precious oil.

�Yeshua,� you murmur;
dragged by your spirit�s burden,
you drop to the ground behind him.

You bathe his feet with your warm tears,
dirt and grime melting
into a muddy pool in your palms.

Your kisses adorn his feet,
feminine glory denied
as your silken tresses wipe them dry.

A delicious scent caresses those present
as a golden river flows over his feet,
the oil of kings.

�Rabbi,� the Pharisee mutters,
indignation bubbling as hot water.
�She should not touch you.�

�Simon� Jesus rebukes;
�Brimming with self-righteousness,
you love little.�

�This woman,
realizing her overwhelming debt of sin,
has loved much.�

Jesus� words to you
bring new life,
like a gentle spring rain.

�Faith has saved you;
you are forgiven,
live in peace.�

The fetters of your spirit
shatter under the force
of Christ�s love.

Now so many lips
echo the story,
of how you became clean.
© 2005 Christian I. J. Minter


Yellow Feather

I am a yellow feather
clutched by a hasty wind,
snagged on a branch,
fluttering helplessly before falling
to drag under careless feet.

Steady footsteps
echo their purpose around me.
I am a blur
in their peripheral vision
as I whirl away.

How long must I coast
on the aimless breeze
buffeted by confusion
before I rest in the palm
of my destiny?
© 2005 Christian I. J. Minter



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