Friday, September 4, 2026

Like a hurricane

Like the ole farmer before morning dawn
The poet quietly went about his orisons
Searching pastures for those not returning home
Setting out provision for the anticipated coming

For words and images were important
Even if the congregation was but few
He could not force any to the nourishment
Convince any that manna was in dew

It's always been the way of the givers
Always the way of the prodigal wanderers 
Starved upon the husks of the swine

Provision before them of water to wine. 

 

Lady in red


 The smoke I thought would mask my scent....then the shepherd started to bark....eyes in foam shielding intent....In a sudden lunge the waters did part....leash in teeth and hand....the death spin began....the red blouse mingling with watery blood....who dares bring a shepherd to my hood?

Chosen pew


 Chosen pew


I too 

grew between the pew

Wood, cushioned, splintered, soft

I knew them all

It was the start

Of a life in art

The bulletin becoming

My first canvas 

I love the pew

The many I sat 

Beside, behind, upon

Those who nudged me

They who held me

Knelt beside me

I shall see them all

When around the 

Fathers pew we are

One day called.

Old oaks home


 Old oaks home

 

The oldest oak's 

That grow so slow

Before we know

Towering o'er us

We give them sway

And we pray

When comes the time

We are not

In their way.


Madison County

Rocky Springs Road

The dying


 Upon dying poetry

John Clare Stokes


Upon the dying beds

Heard whispering

You were the one

Never in my possession

Though I carried you

All these years

Locked up deep inside

Where we'd abide

In your fine longhand cursive 

Writing down the poetry

For only our eyes inside

In our confines

At my soon dying

Take the spiral bound lines

And scatter them liberally

About the wondering ones 

Don't fear our revealing

The words rhyme in a 

Dialect foreign.

Thursday, September 3, 2026

Let us labor


 Let us labor


I think of those now gone on

Some to eternal worlds

Others yet remaining here 

And I’m ever grateful for their labors

In the kingdom not of calloused hands

Men as ZT Johnson of Asbury 

Who helped usher me into the kingdom

A father, Luther Ray, who welcomed me

At the altar of repentance 

There were many following

Razziel at Florida Southern my brother

Mentoring me so lovingly

A long chain of laborers 

From Russell and a community praying

Melanie back to us

To Aaron singing softly to a dying mother

Touching beyond knowing this

Heart prone to hardening

So grateful for the workers in the vineyard 

So looking forward to drinking in

The fruits of their labors one day.


ZT Johnson, President of Asbury College with Rev Luther Ray Stokes and Bert Roddenberry at his farm in Sopchoppy, Florida.

To the bend


 To the bend

Johnclarestokes 


Old Town Chipewan trimmed

Paddles poised in remember 

For tonight from shiver to timber

We stroke upstream to forgetting 

From Cone pylons to Limp bend mystery

Our journey quietly wends

Suwannee time suspends

Sand bars all open

Full moon all enveloping 

Tupelo tonic mixes with the tannic

A doe dips low for a taste

Barred owls who do you think

Pileated's pine bark rain falls

Coyotes call on the prowl

Wet wood hisses and growls

Soon by firefly light we sleep

To mares of critters creeping 

By dawns dew prints revealing

Pungent fresh the nocturnal fumes

Stoke the embers to live

Coax it to warmth give 

All is misty in the limp bend

By first light the Suwannee

Amnesia begins.

The poem of the ocean


 Read to me again

John Clare Stokes


What possible good was I

The aged poet called to her side

One of her end of days requests

Made no doubt in mad duress

What would she reveal

Would she tell of love in secrecy

Of trips to the beach by darkness

When all the world was sleeping

The setting moon, the rising sun

It knew us

A few starfish too

But that was about all

Holding the frail, withered hand

Warmth as of old still in the veins

The writing once so eloquent 

The touch so tender

Parting the old, old friend

To my ear she began whispering

The dying words of a lover

Read to me again

Our poem of the ocean.

Wednesday, September 2, 2026

Post Barry



 Three days in the post Barry days

Watching the hummingbirds 

In their final days among us

Soon to journey far

To their winter home

And what of us left behind 

Will we heed our inner call

To seek our eternal home?

Soar



 Soaring

john clare


Mere metal things

multiple coatings of

rustoleum yet

rust keeps coming

determined to 

keep the soaring

to a minimum


Mere metal swings

meant for soaring

still yet

no flyers coming

determined to

keep the sore

open


Mere metal wings

making their way

across oceans

thinking

the swing has

fallen and

forgotten.

Fade


 Slip away


What things 

Once cling to

Slip away


What things

Once held to

Fade away


What things

Once loved too

Go away


What things 

Once drawn to

Stay

Burning daylight


 Burning Daylight

John Clare Stokes 


Come Saturday September mornings 

When the land begins the autumn cool

The goldenrod on roadsides is seen growing

Persimmon on the tree to sweet turning

Faintly within there is this calling

To journey far into the Gum Swamp pines

Past the Sanderson fork beyond the Ocean Pond

On past the Taylor grocery store break

Far, far over the St Mary’s river into Moniac

Where the Nehi streams flow forever amber

You can reach right up and pluck

A moon pie from the South Georgia sky

Sit and stare lovingly into her snaggletooth eyes

Hear her say, “where you been all my days?”

And you reply, “Burning daylight!

Burning daylight, my darling.

Now here in Moniac I can die.”