Rage

do not hurry rage—
that boiling, seething
blood pounding through collective veins

cannot be tamed
or cooled or
forcibly subdued

any more than the sweltering summer heat that
burns and chars and blisters endlessly
until it finally folds into the autumn equinox.

do not dare call for temperance,
moderation, domestication;
hold your sordid speeches with foul platitudes, for

impropriety is the only currency
that outlasts, outfoxes, outmaneuvers
swords that bludgeon both body and spirit.

do not open your mouth to name involuntary servitude
a mild inconvenience—a blessing—
even god’s will.
chains suffocate; nooses extinguish.

stand back—be silent—let not one sound escape your lips
until you feel drops of sweat pouring from your brow,
body retching with pain, 

your whole being trembling, fearing
it will not see morning
because of who you are. 

we will not fear.
we will not flee.
rage* will be our fuel.

© Julia Penner-Zook, 24 July 2022
Photo credit: Klara Kulikova  (open source)

*”Rage protects that which is loved.” Valarie Kaur

Meet You At The Bar

racism
pandemic
outrage
empathy
science
sedition
vaccine
eviction
listlessness
competence
lockdown
grace
fear

If you’re occasionally glancing at news sources or daring to watch the evening news, you will have your own list of words that buzz in your head like the drone of a pesky fly at an outdoor bar on a late summer evening. The only thing is: you can’t leave that buzzing behind as you get up to leave; this drone will accompany you to bed and haunt you as you try to get some sleep. 

There is no exhaustive list of words; everyone has their own. Each word evokes its own emotion and leaves its distinctive taste behind. Both the positives and negatives impact our sense of wellbeing. 

What we frequently overlook is that we can hold many equally valid realities simultaneously. It’s encouraging to realize that the Christ’s Advent gifts of peace, hope, joy, and love don’t require that the recipients have all aspects of life in order. Quite the opposite: think of peace, hope, joy, and love pulling up a barstool next to outrage, or listlessness, for example. Imagine the conversation—or the surprising transformation. 

When we’re confronted with the debilitating aspects of life in our communities, families, and nation, let’s remember to repeatedly invite joy, peace, love, and hope to pull up a stool. Just extending the invitation is a cracked doorway for the unexpected. 

Originally posted in @communityuccfresno ‘s newsletter
©Julia Penner-Zook 2020
IG: @julia_penner_zook
Twitter: @j_pennz
Photo Credit: Pavel Danilyuk via pexels.com (open source)

despite the cost

compassion threatens to
suffocate all who live to
extend it.

our hearts dissolve
directly proportionate to
our capacity to feel

a little of
what it’s like to
be you.

we could allow compassion
to bypass care, anguish,
love,

and instead steer this
healing gift
into

the chasm of cynicism,
establishing permanent residency
in anger.

it seems safer there–
less painful, the
immediacy of

explosive release
building a temporary
shelter.

but this hostile dwelling
is dark: cold without
solace,

serving only to further
the agenda of
isolation

from oneself or one’s
neighbor, offering
no space for community,

leaving us homeless,
dismembered, a mere shadow
of who we can be.

allow tears to flow,
hearts to feel,
words

to admit grief and
disillusionment
for only

then can the
dignity of compassion
be sustained,

rising as a shield against the
destructive forces of rage,
expanding to give birth to

warmth, welcome,
well-being, blossoming into
tangible embrace

for all humanity.

we shall offer love in place
of indifference, extend
presence

instead of withdrawal,
carry within our
bodies

hope for our neighbor,
our human family,
despite the cost.

***

© Julia Penner-Zook, 2018
Photo Credit: Annie Spratt via unsplash.com
Twitter: @J_Pennz
Instagram: @j_penner_zook

Together

Huddled
fearing no-one nor
angling for superior position
unassuming and radiant,
soaking up late-afternoon sunlight,
existing in utter contentment–
each glowing face equal in beauty,
smiling, nodding with grace
to those next to them,
bringing delight to each adoring
passerby.

Huddled
in desperate terror, scrambling
for protection, unutterable fear
choking breath from lungs,
which should be inhaling
spring morning air, but
which cannot be guaranteed
as lead shreds limbs, torsos,
hearts, leaving hopeful young
faces with incalculable
loss–or dead.

Huddled
behind barricading fences
of steel, ideology, or creed, confining
ourselves to self-imposed ghettos,
threatening our very existence, yet
unwavering in our fervor to
hurl insults upon fellow traveler, never
pausing to ponder its consequence,
taunting those who are unlike
us, and whom we, then, choose to
alienate and “other.”

Ahhh
could we not learn to embrace, to
coexist as blossom and bee, nature and
hiker, sky and land, seeking to
convert or chastise no one, finding the
strength to reign in our own hearts
so we can hear one another,
love rather than judge,
for the sake of humanity–
for the sake of the children?

***

In the United States, this week was one similar to many others: beauty flanked by terror. Fourteen children, along with three adults were gunned down as they clung to one another in anguish. Hours later, I hiked along a springtime wonderland of blossoms and fragrance. The stark contrast birthed these words, pleaded with us all to come together, listen to one another, regardless of what effort it takes.

follow me on Instagram: @julia_penner_zook
© Julia Penner-Zook, 2018
Photo Credit: Julia Penner-Zook

sparkling wine

 

o dazzling scarlet sphere
your brilliance bejewels the
wonderland of white,
your resolve transmits warmth, glows
though cloaked in heavy frost.

o sparkling tiny globe,
resplendent in coat of wine, you
lend your love, extend your hope
into landscapes bereft of light,
exploding into exultation.

***

In the coming weeks I will release a pre-publication booklet featuring photography and excerpts of longer poems – similar to this post. A more complete release is coming at a later date. Stay tuned for more details.

follow me on Instagram: @julia_penner_zook
© Julia Penner-Zook, 2017
Photo Credit: Julia Penner-Zook.

wonder

her eyes –
shimmering and luminous,
exuding confidence that
this beauty and extravagance
are not confined to her vivid imagination
but gifts borne out of deep immersion
in awe.

her lips –
parting in a hushed,
breathless crescent moon,
oblivious to the amazement
it radiates, absorbed in cosmic
waves of revolutionary love wrapping her
in utter mystery.

her head –
tilting back slightly, she drinks
in the final gleam of light as it fades from the west,
sensing the benevolence of the universe
as stars dance, serendipitous birth of gold and platinum,
celestial symphonies propelling her forward
in wonder.

***

Fifth in the series of poems highlighting lost words – this time, wonder! The realism in us often stands in the way of awe and reverence.

The scientific community reports of an extraordinary event which it observed on August 17, 2017. This is when the collision of two cosmic neutron stars, which are said to have collided some 130 million years ago, was detected by astrophysicists. This truly is a reason for awe and wonder. Be sure to check out the link below.

http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2017/10/16/557557544/astronomers-strike-gravitational-gold-in-colliding-neutron-stars  

follow me on Instagram: @julia_penner_zook
© Julia Penner-Zook, 2017
Photo Credit: Robin Dienel/Carnegie Institution for Science

peace

peace.
do we really want it,
or is it a silken
syllable that slips from the
tongue in a time
when we find no other

in a time when we wish
not to appear inappropriate
in our hate
bitter in our loss
panicked in our horror
– like a place holder of sorts –

until we do our research
to strike a blow with precision
accumulate armaments
to bolster our position
gain a secure footing
from which to launch venomous attack?

peace.
is it desirable
or does its calm
soothing presence
agitate us with its
stodgy serenity

a boring kind of
companion, not as raucous
or flashy
or edgy as its absolute
antonym – the nefarious duo
hatred and violence

which can always be
counted on to cause
devastation when given free reign
to drive up markets and
to spur the sales of countless
seductive security imposters?

peace.
its not the milquetoast
mindset of the emotionally weak
or the economically disadvantaged
or those intellectually incapable
of bold intention

rather,
its defiance despite fear
comes only through the strength
of self sacrifice,
courage on a collision course with prevailing culture
and willful resistance against rage.

peace alone
fosters life in our communities
peace, not war, ensures
your freedom and mine
peace, not my right over yours
allows us all space to breathe.

***

i take a slightly different approach with the third piece in the series entitled lost words.
some words are overused; others have fallen into disrepute, as if we had become embarrassed either by their longevity or by our willful inability to actually live them correctly.
peace is that word for today, this third in the series of lost words.

follow me on Instagram: @julia_penner_zook
© Julia Penner-Zook, 2017
Photo Credit: Joseph Gonzalez via unsplash.com

compassion

at times i’m considered
the strong one
sacrificing
fulfilling sacred mission
needing neither justification nor commentary
i’m whole – embracing the shunned
welcoming the stranger
mending the shattered
my currency is mercy and grace

there are some who delight
in devious
misrepresentation
using my name while describing my nemesis –
depicting my character as weak
lawless
catering to the unfortunate
scorned for unwillingness to aid
the proud in pursuits of cowardice

come close
sense my passion
absorb the essence of my soul
wrap the mantle of my purpose
around you
uphold virtue, refusing to
revere law above love
prying loose the grip of oppression
masquerading as order

***

welcome to a new series entitled lost words.
words we hear may sound familiar, but the meaning attributed to them has become foreign, creating a dis-ease within us the hearers.
you may think words don’t carry that much weight but
words.
matter.
the more we hear words misused, twisted, misrepresented, the more dissonance it creates within our souls and within society.
compassion is the first word in this series of lost words.

follow me on Instagram: @julia_penner_zook
© Julia Penner-Zook, 2017
Photo Credit: Patrick Pierre via unsplash.com

belonging

sixth in the liminal series.

it’s possible for someone to feel caught in between – not because of something within, but because of those who stand outside of one’s experience, assessing, defining and marginalizing.
i wrote this poem to align with my lgbtq friends and members of our one diverse human family.
you are invited;
you are equal;
you are valued.

follow me on Instagram: @julia_penner_zook
© Julia Penner-Zook, 2017

No One Speaks For Me

I stand with

the immigrant –
working without complaint
until hands are raw, backs are bent,
figures of enormous restraint,
these moral giants among us who
teach the young respect,
the simplicity of laughter, gratitude, hope,
grasping the true meaning of home.

No one speaks for me!

I cry for justice for

those whose skin
is darker than my own
whose loved ones
live with fear, some
no longer here,
too oft a target for lead, not safe
even in their bed
no fault, no crime; systematic bloodshed.

No one speaks for me!

I bow in reverence,

acknowledging lives risked
homes shared, bread broken
together with those hunted
hounded, rounded up to be
sent away – our scapegoats,
forced to carry the turmoil
we refuse to face
within our souls.

No one speaks for me!
No one!

I am white, unconscionably privileged,
yet at odds with prevailing winds
that bend the mighty oak
away from compassion and justice
to unrecognizable versions of itself –
callousness, derision, hatred –
rejecting common civility that sees
you as my brother, my sister.

The dream of the
eighty-one percent is not my dream!
……………No One Speaks For Me
I heed a different gospel,
follow a different creed,
exchange white ethno-nationalism*
and greed for the embrace of love,
regardless of age, creed, race, status or orientation
stand resolute, head high, arms outstretched.

No One Speaks for Me
But I speak for myself.

* term used by Jim Wallis of Sojourners

© Julia Penner-Zook, 2017
Photo Credit: Riccardo Annandale via unsplash.com