Reports from the Bunker

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Posts Tagged ‘Prayer

Teeth Mother 3 – Early, Early Draft

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Mother, whisper on the wind that blows between my ears

Blinded by my darkness, stumbling frantic, here I am again

knowing you must be near, but losing faith and less sure

with each moment that I cannot feel you, lashing out

I am not myself the moment I feel that you have left me

Mother, touch your hand to my chest, rest your head there

let me feel your warmth washing away the pain and fear

Whisper sweetly to me until I find the light, hope and peace

Free me to be happy and useful again and in that light

guide me to be all that you would have of me, I am ill 

and slow of mind and your signs must be loud and bright

lest I am lost and imprisoned by my own darkness again 

I am a fool and a mongrel 

but a prophet, husband, lover and father 

all the same

Mother, where are you? Touch me, whisper wisdom and courage

fill up my empty mind with truth and joy and hope, enough to share




Written by jamesjanus

March 21, 2013 at 5:35 pm

Yesterday was a bad day but today

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Today, I will be myself

I will trust god and his plan for me

I will let go of fear, anxiety and stress

Today I will husband, father and son

I will be kind, I ask god to help me be 

of maximum service to everyone 

and I will keep focused on doing the next right thing

Today, I am love, I am laughter, I am living


Written by jamesjanus

August 10, 2012 at 5:04 pm

Teeth Mother Mantra 2 – 1st Draft

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Mother, I have left the desert
and there is no more suffering
I return to you, new and ready
hoping to serve and make good

A new journey, I look inward
Praying will you lay with me
press me with your sweet flesh
coat me with your salted sweat

envelope and hold me until
i lay languid in spent surrender
just whisper and sing to me
the words and music of the divine

rekindle the flame within
doused in the bootleggers water
through memory, I can see and hear
your voice calling out to me

Mother, I’m saved from suffering
that old desert is far behind me
in this prayer, I am kneeling
Surrendered, please take me

Written by jamesjanus

May 16, 2012 at 5:57 pm

and prayer and death

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4 years next month. I was reminded today of the final lines in A Prayer for Owen Meany:

When we held Owen Meany above our heads, when we passed him back and forth — so effortlessly — we believed that Owen weighed nothing at all. We did not realize that there were forces beyond our play. Now I know they were the forces that contributed to our illusion of Owen’s weightlessness: they were the forces we didn’t have the faith to feel, they were the forces we failed to believe in — and they were also lifting up Owen Meany, taking him out of our hands. O God — please give him back! I shall keep asking You.

and whether the sun is shining or the rain is pelting down upon my life, I think of you and so often I beg of God to give you back to us, to undo your mistake. Somewhere in the recesses of my heart I think to myself there must be a way. Meany was your favorite book, Vern is right, you knew you bastard, you knew what you were going to put us through.

Andrew and Rebecca’s anniversary is today, 3 years ago, the Caribbean wedding that you were absent for. Your sister gave birth to her second child, a baby boy, another one that you will never meet.  Your own child will be coming to visit us late this month, just a week before the anniversary of that horrible day. Every moment of consequence shared by us members of your tribe is diminished because we instinctively look to share it with you and you are gone and in this way and for this reason, the grief seems to go on endlessly.

The world gave your mother such a hard time for taking so long to emerge from her grief, my god those people don’t understand, I know it will never end for me and I will shed tears for you from now until I too am dead. I know that I cannot imagine what it must be like for your mother.

So much has happened, to, with and for me in the last few years, the same with Drew and Vern and your sister. though Drew might be hesitant to admit it, we miss you, I miss you and I hate that May and June are spent thinking so much about how much I miss you.

Written by jamesjanus

May 5, 2010 at 7:03 pm