God, the "Great Iconoclast."
  • Alma Turner
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      • Amend White to Black
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  • Poems, Prayers, Music
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Scratch Paper 2023 Poems

Under Lies

a witness
testifies
loud and clear
few hear,
but snap shots
of body,
head,
of what's behind,
infrared
insides
scrutinize
what underlies...
“a child points up
‘mama, look!’
and all pause to see
the cloud,
the giant bee
whatever she sees…
yet, no one listens
to me
I've stood
for tens of thousands
of years
pointing with purpose;
white-light entities
coached my crafters
to in-form
me with precision
into being
to speak
non-verbally
before Elohim
designed a hologram
of words
to point
with purpose
with intentional
lack of clarity
substantiated
in stone
for those
who hear
to understand;
so take a rocket
into space
and you'll find me.
It's easy.
Look for structure
crafted
by human hands
possible to spy
with the naked eye;
It's right next to me.
Google it!
what do you see?
what do you hear?
of what do I speak?”
like a child,
I was manifested
to be seen and heard!
Get under the lie!"

”In that day, there will be an altar to the Lord in the midst of the land of Egypt, and a pillar to the Lord at its border. It will be a sign and a witness to the LORD of hosts in the land of Egypt.”
Isaiah 19:19-20


​

dig

shovels gravel
round midnight,
metal scrape
wakes
as he
curb carves
sacred space 
for a soon-to arrive
much-needed car
agitation
of anticipation
stews
brews
need for escape 
sends man 
into street
of double shotguns
under moon
lamp-light,
a slender slice
of fire energy
getting free
moves
rhythmically
hoes the tar concrete
summons ancestors'
beat
til enough's released 
and we both
finally get some sleep.

tourist

songstress
at Smoothie King
in the mix
thinking of you
how we entered
each other
and Anita sang
just because
and your car, 
my queen
were there
you on about
vocal mastery
and now 
in her womb
way up
snuggled tight
packed
in the sing-along
sold out bleachers
her sweet love
poured over us
Holy Honey
warm, convincing, true
the Universe where
you flew, 
lived
couldn't give more
than a tour
and I'm grateful
to have been a tourist 
graced
with something new 
changed by the trip
back home
deeper in my skin
the temple within
a better
songstress for it.

​
cookie jar jail

where is the hot-stove defense
that keeps me from getting burned
the recoil
God hard-wired inside my soul
to protect
my silly ass?
Lord God!
Save me 
from my self-indulgence,
where I live 
in a cookie jar
of constant craving
constant caving in 
to small distractions
mind goes
leaves me hollow 
and back
to square ONE
day ONE
chatter-racked 
slippery slope
where I need you Lord.
Revive my heart
to LOVE, expand,
to pour
​my self out
into the ONE
Great Reality
of your Holy
habitation
in Eternity
within and around me.

"For thus says the One who is high and lifted up,
who inhabits eternity,
whose name is Holy;
'I dwell in the high and holy place,
and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit,
to revive the heart of the contrite."
Isaiah 57:15
Valentine's Psalm 

as above
so below
in 3 days
Spirit built
a Banquet Hall,
temple,
the whole Earth,
Universe,
High Priest’s
mystical body;

outside this sanctity
I suffer
and inflict pain
a cycle of harm
“please! please!
help!”

the Door, when sought,
always opens
and Water-cleanse begins
we are nourished
by your Bread
charged
by your Light
called
by your Voice,
grown
in the Vine
forgiven into
relationship with you,
your Resurrection,
in us,
us in you,
you in the Father
the Holy Tabernacle…
as above
so below,
as around,
​so within.
Valentine's Psalm  2
​

can't grasp
who you are
can't grasp
quark truth
unseen reality
beyond me
above my capacity
to fathom, reach, touch,
too deep
too high
too wide
impossible...
yet true
impossible
to believe
for a mind too strong
to let go
so...
turns all to mush 
to puddle
to "the next right thing"
to "the present" 
rather than to walk 
in this cathedral of energy
embrace of love
adventure in light
as light, through light;
guide me God
out of my skin, 
my mark-missing sin
into the true dwelling
re-enter me LORD
into your holy tabernacle
to BE
with you,
in you,
for you
you in me, me in you,
you in HE
Thy will be done, SELAH
Valentines Psalm 3
​

She values me?
How can that be?
This nobody 
bucket of grandiosity
this waif
of prayed-away insecurities
that walks
in you, LORD,
confidently
praying to give, to live
outside the bogus clutter 
of a distracted,
highjacked mind
refine
this human 
who loves deeply;
the greatest privilege 
is to get to know people, 
to hear them
a blessing deeper
than the deepest sea
Never thought it would be me
able to hear, see you
your healing journey -
was blind
and now I see
Praise God
Praise my Valentine.


Pink Tutu

grandfather
​Sammy
lifted
pudgy me
1960
in pink tutu
above the party
I flew!!
straight arms
over head

his giant smile
those hands 
that held my tummy
had been to war
and are no more
since 93;
love lifted me!
thank you  Sammy!
and thank you
whoever
gifted me
that pink tutu,
too.
Smitten by E.

​by candle's light
asked
for insight
a Word
to be freed
from high
jacked mind's
​tailspin dive

"your heart
was proud
because of
your beauty;
you corrupted
your wisdom
for the sake
of your splendor"


prophet E spoke
to gut
love is tough
that cracks this nut
got through
knife slice
thank God
not nice
since platitude
is deadly
when in my insanity.

awakened now
looked round
to see
the larger thread
where Spirit led
and found
I was not alone
but with the Prince of Tyre
who Milton said
fell to the lake of fire
pride's cost
paradise lost
of radiant stones
of perfection's throne
forgot he didn't
give birth to himself
forgot his role
obscured
by silver, gold,
and wisdom's wanton ego
to wage sneaky violence
on those below...

at the same time
it was a portrait
of my beloved
friend
not just me...
master of material gain
reads numbers,
sees secrets,
ins and outs
to make wealth,
wield clout
with stealth
wield wisdom too
and use it to whip
make friends
want
and then withhold..
anointed one
loves but gets so so cold
like me, too high to see
the corruption
from his beauty,
the Prince of Pride
taking him
on a house-is-not-a-home ride
simple rule momma
might have said:
”my child,
don’t play with the Prince of Tyre
don’t play with fire!”

more there is,
yes indeed
these bedevilments
apply to greater
society
but for now,
the prophet’s message
has generated genuine
​humility,
a miracle, for a beauty,
a prideful,
wise, woman like me.

"your heart was proud
because of your beauty;
you corrupted your wisdom
for the sake of your splendor"

​
Ezekiel 28:17


love your neighbor

Ben and Vee
have no water
no heat, ac,
so car's home
baby in the back seat;
46 K from Ida
long gone
for the wrong fix
now need 16 G
for SWB
cuz gramma's
toilet
ran and ran
day and night
and grand baby girl
at 49
doesn't lift a finger
spend a dime
and here's Ben
again
knocks to ask
and I snap,
"I can't get back
into that bullshit,"
and him sulking away
and Vee needs to charge
her phone
and me saying yes
and her sitting there
a bullfrog
talk in her boom box
voice for ever...
maybe I need to move to
Vermont
where neighbors '
behave themselves
(don't shoot off guns
sell drugs
steal, beg, borrow,
fuss and cuss
in the street)
but this is New Orleans
it's my home now
these are my neighbors
and I try to do right
but they try me
and I have no illusion
of being the nice white lady in the corner house...
Miss Alma has thorns
she certainly does.
but I love big
and pray for everybody
and care
and share as God guides me
imperfectly
but if I want to feel good
about what a good person I am
gotta move
cuz lotsa folks here
get on my every nerve.


Ruffino

Guatemalan 
over a foot shorter 
than 
green-eyed me
paints  precisely
progresses 
with care
through stages
of house repair
CORAZON
surrendered 
to craft
lives with brother
watch out
for each other 
and grieve 
thieves who
smashed pick ups
late Friday
left not a tiny hammer
nothing
but a hard worker
hurt, hurt, so hurt...
here, hard at work. 

Vet Trip

Sammy's 14
sits with care
arthritis stiff
gentle, aged
clairvoyant sage
vet's got a shot
to ease that pain
"just consider it"
doesn't mention
who stands to gain
lists complications
of the "cure"
omits cost
"invest in the comfort
of your cat"
meanwhile
nothing left
when they pass the hat
for a neighbor
with no heat
nothing to eat
asleep in the street
damn!
Let the cats,
like me,
get used to pain
teach
us to slow down
and listen
lean on canes
and younger kittens
rather than
always fixin
controllin'
keepin things rollin'...
so no pills for Sammy
or me
cuz when
our appointments
to pass on
arrive
Sammy and I'll
be ready
for our freedom-fly.

Yeast

unleavened bread
necessary
when you have to flee
no time 
to wait
watch
the mystery of
air entrapped
puff up
elasticity
stretch
make room
for gas
to craft
fluffy bread
to catch
butter
in crevices,
jelly
in craters
teeth
in textures
oven pre heats
to 350
hits heat
expands
"I am the bread"
let it rise
within me
puff me
not with grandiosity
"look at me"
but with readiness
to bear witness
to the reality
of unseen
air pockets
of good God-ness
that sustain
a loving heart
hover over
creative
connection
that sustain
the staff that guides,
hems me in
takes me to the table
to partake
in the overflow
the yeast
your bread in me
let the kingdom
come to the feast!
Zulu Parade

secluded
alone
pain kept
her inside
and Mardi Gras
called
from days away
"come to me!"
fear-desire
answered
that day
didn't know it was
time to go
just compelled her
from within
onto the porch
the groove
moved
down stairs
with care
slow
left...right
sidewalk's blocked
by grills, cars,
folding chairs
​ice chests
so street-walkered
wheels
bumpity bumped
step... by step
passed
varied beats -
of marching bands,
boom boxes
WWNO,
motorcycle revs
pot holes
barbecue smoke
family tents
sexy garters,
a red Charger
Fedoras, caps,
men's tattoos,
kids soundly snooze
under campers
ladies
in green red gold
cleavage, legs
bold, so bold
baby dolls
with parasols
and there's
my heart too
in the mix
courage! 
God's house of bricks
vulnerable
in the extreme
but only kindness
streams
Mardi Gras 
motion is harmony
with commotion
calls her and everyone
into its ocean. 
​




Elihu

his name means
"my God is he"
a listener
waited his turn
heard
the elders
before words surged
his belly 
full
ready to pop
nothing could stop
speech;
his need
for relief
from the pounding
pum pum
only resolved by release
so when Spirit 
moves today
don't bridle and rein
but Spirit obey
and speak your gifts,
open lips 
and give
to the mystical body
so people may live
and feel
be taken past woes
just as Job
was not consoled
by those
disconnected!
Your voice is needed
and if you ask  
our Maker
​to speak through you
your words will be true
and give life anew,
just like Elihu. 


"For I am full of words,
the spirit within me constrains me,
Behold, my belly is like wine that has no vent,
like new wineskins ready to burst.
I must speak, that I may find relief;
I must open my lips and answer.
I will not show partiality to any man
or use flattery towards any person.
For I do not know how to flatter 
else my Maker would soon take me away,"
Elihu as spoken in the Book of Job 32:18-22


Where's the Weeping?

pretends not to need
a gate that swings
when a guard
sees it's her
to enter
plantation-island
purity
and watch CNN news
past swamp-marsh
moat
pronounce
"I'm woke!"
but wait...
her children were babes
in 60's decade
in a different 
but identical 
gated-golf-tennis
country club place
when
they killed J.F. and M.l.K,
Vietnam  raged 
rebellion,
a quest for
liberation shook
made the gate
vibrate
and now the privileged
stand
and  proudly
lay claim
this time
to being awake?
remorse evade?
where's the beg for mercy,
the sobs and weeping
for the years sleeping?

Unwrap

wrapped tight
by rules
nothing could
move, stir
shift, whirl
that closed-umbrellla-stiff
rigid girl!
come out!
unfurl,
wear that floral shirt 
that blows 
in the wind
walk in time
to Reggae
singing out 
from the fruit shop;
the owner
loves to see 
stride-rhythm shift
to the beat
not predators
just joy voyeurs
and there goes 
a giant yellow motorcycle
revving past
with hip hop blast
sees a head bob-nod
as he went on
and wants nothing
but a fleeting
moment of presence
acknowledgement;
so take off
the tape,
unwrap the gift
dare to participate!"

Leo and the Nile

water 
flows
and Your will 
moves forward,
north
a spine
past precision stone
lazered understandings,
water 
running down
past seven temple
chakras
rarely seen
flowing river
tune ears to touch
wet
skin to hear
rush
Spirit to feel
energies
heart to speak
un-held knowings
given space
to be
in communion
with Lion,
Tribe,
Most High,
Agunechemba
Leo rise
above Nile
written in time
the plan, story, 
not arbitrary
we love to deny
the truth
of our spine
but the River
can not be unseen,
unheard,
it turns
to face the rise
tetelestai
he will come,
a second time.

Impassible

wrestle 
won't release
get gone
move along
like it should
would will it
if we could
but still
remains
relentlessly 
on the brain
heart
will this Red Sea
ever part?

God assures
what manifests
on the Exodus
is impossible
without His Power
"how's this impasse
EVER gonna go?"
you can't know
beyond your ego
so LET GO! 
rock in mantra
"give it all"
"give it all"
pilgrims called
to Gilgal

sojourners' 
footprints and
12-stone altar
now underwater
where we walked
out of wilderness
into milk-honey
where
walls fall
chances to trust
gloriously sprawl
in knowing
we may be where 
where HE wants us
through it all.


"trust in the LORD
with all your heart
and lean not
unto your own understanding.
In all your ways
acknowledge him,
and he will make
straight your paths.
Be not wise
in your own eyes,
fear the LORD,
and turn away from evil,
It will be healing
to your ego,
and medicine
to your bones,"
Two Birds

squatting
in February sun's fire
warmed through
we two talked
of this and that
and, safe in knowing
his heart is in You,
confided
how I sense
a story unfolding
on our street
movement
in a mystical body
that heals
for real
of all cravings
of all need
for the first dose
towards obliteration
forgetting
it no longer works
forgetting
the new purpose
the healed
are assigned
to live into a vision
of truth, light,
a path
for a life
to be poured into
and hear
and share the route
with others stuck
in that cycle of
"getting fucked up"
when the going
gets rough
or smooth
or accused
of a bore;
all races, colors, creeds
gender identities
necessary
together
and we looked up
and two birds
one black, one white
were dancing
way up up up
saying
YES
to the vision
YES
to Presence
YES
to our day
our friendship
our God, his way.



​
Defensive Attorney

ya know
I'm assigned the role
of defensive attorney
for those
left in the cold:
those getting old,
the addicts, 
blacks, 
Southern cracker jacks,
demo, auto, and
bureau crats
choose a side and I'll fight 
for the otherized
marginalized
even the 45's
my job's to oppose
your choice
if your self-righteousness
rubs my wood-grain
splinter way
not by what you say
but by what I feel 
from your inner real
so if I do agree
just because
I realize
I'm being a pain in the ass
it does not mean
you're approved;
my default's
to hate the sinner
love the sin
since your defect
let's me reject...
cuz I'm too
an addict
on crack high
of being right
stone sober
not tight...
so...
no mercy
in me
anywhere in sight..
where's the kindness 
extended to me
in my ignorance
as wise DJ says?



Hmmm

a million poems
be still 
and wait
in the Spirit
a memory that fills
moment that calls
to be uncovered
coaxed out 
of its quiet nook:
eye-catch with a child,
plastic bag gone wind-wild,
a chance meet with Emily
a need
with no ask 
and we both bask
for the balance
of the day's moments
in the divine time,
or the way Coop
crosses the floor
humble-strut
jaunty-light,
or Taffy remembers
Diana Ross
as we wait together 
in metal chairs
while our loves
heal in the buzz
of machines
in physical therapy
and memories 
of long-ago-line-dance
Motown moments
light us up;
today's a watch-the-river day
not one for fishing.
poems swim
​down under
and I
​watch the water.

On a Walk

To walk in the city
is vulnerable;
I wonder
that he doesn't see me?
she passes
oblivious
caught in some
mental net
conflicted conversation?
others figure
I'm nobody?
"wait, she's a friend of
so and so... you know..."
"oh!"
then they say "hello,"
just like when
Mr. Furlaud
put me on a bus
in Penn Station
in the 60's
and long-haired Clippy
cuddled up
"oh, Clippy Bartow..."
okay then,
I know your family..."
or sometimes
I'm a type
that’s hated
or politically yucky?
Some decide
I'm dangerous
​or superfluous
and choose to remove
their energy
entirely?
And then we meet
after a few weeks
at the party
and me, long forgotten,
is cool today
cuz I'm somehow here
with these good people?
It's all just a human
thing,
understandable
but important
to see
so my identity
doesn't depend
on how you see
​or treat me,
my role here
doesn't dissolve,
my huge love
doesn't retaliate,
reciprocate in hate
or indifference
or labels and categories
but stays free
for free,
​grounded in eternity.
Daniel in the Lions' Den

We are
energy temples
clay jars full of swirling light
computers with weightless software
David prayed to God
and was prey
to the mandate of the king
manipulated
into making it, an edit
just like Connally
heading to Iran
to assure Reagan's
victory over Jimmy
the kings could not undo the mandates
and were thrown into the den
"O Daniel, servant of the living God, has your God, who you serve continually, been able to deliver you from the lions?"
"O king, live forever! My God sent his angel and shut the lion's mouths and they have not harmed me, because I was found blameless before him and also before you, O king, I have done no harm."
For Henry at Your Engagement to Carol

New Yorker
like me,
from Jamaica, Queens
into photography
transplant in 
New Orleans,
as you join
please accept this coin
to celebrate
love not hate;
I pray
you be blessed
with a few more
twenty fours
to love and be loved,
adore and be adored,
keep taking shots
of a host of friends
keep sharin'
with your people
in our church 
with no steeple,
keep shinin' light
for others still
lost in the fight...
we all gettin'
closer to that final door
whether or not 
in stage four
so Henry
this coin is for you
to invite God to do
what He does
and see you through
lookin' fine 
so at the very least
39
comes true for you, too.

With great love
from your friend Robin
  • Alma Turner
    • Alma Turner
    • Site Overview
    • Alma's Blessings
  • 12 Steps
    • Step 1: Humility >
      • Step One Questions
    • Step 2: Hope
    • Step 3: Faith
    • Step 4: Honesty
    • Step 5: Trust
    • Step 6: Willingness
    • Step 7: Surrender
    • Step 8: Forgiveness
    • Step 9: Justice >
      • Amend White to Black
    • Step 10: Perseverance >
      • Fear Watch
    • Step 11: Contact
    • Step 12: Service
  • Poems, Prayers, Music
    • Beloved Poems by Others >
      • I Stand at the Door by Sam Shoemaker
      • The Guest House by Rumi
      • The Invitation by Oriah
      • Invictus
      • Elohai Neshama
    • Poems by Alma >
      • Poems 2017-2020
      • Poems 2021 >
        • Prayer Poems
        • Poems Early 2021
        • Poems September 2021
        • Poems October 2021
        • Parables and Songs
        • Clay Haiku
      • Poems 2022
      • Injustice Poems
      • Poems 2023
    • Big Book Prayers
    • Music >
      • Roberta Flack
      • Marvin Gaye
  • more
    • Rowdy Beauties >
      • Rowdy Beauties Bible Study New Orleans
      • Rowdy Beauties Resouces >
        • Resources for Chapters 1-4
    • Disciplines >
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