Friday, June 6, 2014

fleshy fungus
Harvey S. Mozolak

their smell reached me
before I saw them
perhaps the mower cut a few
their gills gulping the air
at the edge of the woods
still beneath the trees
and along the roots
blending into the soil’s shading
small models of the atomic blast
leathery helmets of poison 
those noxious with sickness and death 
or gravy seasoning
small risings of the dirt
offering its oddly old taste
to those with a wariness 
and an eye to their history 
and what grows from the hunger
of the belly of earth                                                                                       

Friday, April 18, 2014

to: all
subject: INRI

online today
thankful for a singular
quite selfless
and self-shedding
[+] saved


Tuesday, April 8, 2014

in a room prepared
Harvey S. Mozolak

there this Thursday meal
he in the center
as he always was
and is
the lamb lying on the plate
of God at table
among reclining cushions
in their midst passing
over to each the cup and bread
amid the bowls of salted tears
and portions of sweet mortar
the stained  hard memories of captivity
the women wait for the dishes
and the freedom after their cleansing 
while the disciples stir knowing he will rise
to go as they often do
to the park of the olive grove
outside the wall
someone kicks the foot basin
and the water spills
reddening where Judas spilled his cup
in his hurried leaving
their soles track their steps in red
from the upper room
toward the lower places down across the Kidron
because he is still hungry
and they are not yet full
it was a meal more of signs
awaiting their posting
lattice question
Harvey S. Mozolak

do we climb the hard hill        
with stabbing spear and deflecting shield
much like an occupying soldier
armed ruthless with oppression
or as a gawking crowd
spit-mouthed by curses choking silent fears
or drawn with tears and stumbling
bereft like mother and fumbling brother
or does the ascent of the attached
anointed by blood
carry and lift us there
branches bound to bud
of his bruised and bleeding vine
seeping the answer
that uncurls our turned within?

Monday, April 7, 2014

greater magnificat
Harvey S. Mozolak

Mary listening
this to Christ without
he cries
fiat mihi
as the Word
flesh born
flesh torn
the cords of death
entangle strangle
and the greatest
is made the least
and low a servant
bound to the grave
in soundless praise
to God
and it was good
breathless counts
two rests before the discord of the cross

Harvey S. Mozolak

the heavy mallet pounded
spikes pointed thrice
slicing into his hands
and Jesus stretched himself out
on the wood raft above our flood
now his feet anchored
waves of sweat
pooled in the hollows of his cheeks
rivulets of blood from the nest of pain
crimsoning them
searing his eyes with suffering
by these he sees all
from this last mast

not fisted
palms open in pouring
the Father’s hand is withdrawn
but not his ear
the wind of the Spirit dries his lips
but the fever that boils
the blood on his brow
is a holiness cauterizing
the world at noon
in the Son who has left heaven
far from the shade of the womb of the woman
now as near and under
the shadow of sin and its fallen race
un-cinctured alb
Harvey S. Mozolak

the white clothing of winter
at this present warming
flows away in water folds
like vested holiness
before laughter

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Nicodemus by night
Harvey S. Mozolak

dead unseeing wall
of stone and rock
crying a cataract of tears
waterfall in graven grief
wearing away the hard earth
but never bearing
the flowers of birth
in the dark night
sightless as the blind
in the dark womb
of un-birth
comes one in the nick of time
allowed by eternity
to be the sign
cross stick
the log jam
above the cataract
of the soul
dark without Jesus

Lent 2
John 3. 1-17

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Matthew 17. 1-9

Harvey S. Mozolak

figuring across 

staying in the mountain moment
pausing in the profound praise
basking in the blessing
some are led to such heights
at times and in places
occasional and isolated often
but as we are touched by the words
of the Word and taste his flesh
and are consumed by his life-blood
there are only
the days and land left
until the resurrection
among which Jesus walks
to figure a cross

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

walk in the woods
awaiting four inches

Harvey S. Mozolak

the snow has collected
in small depressions
where the bark is pulled away
from a trunk
in a pock of a rock
at a deep center to a pile of leaves
gathered against the wind
on the lateral limb
refusing to follow the rising tune of the tree
in the cleft of roots at the base
a large flake
flies at the window of my mind
lashes shutter shut
and a tear refuses the cold
even the wonder of some intricate impression
for the snow gathers simply a pall
precious the moments

Harvey S. Mozolak

no pallid pale passion
but plenty of pastel angels
they make a nativity
set with soft lambs
simple haloes like gold wedding rings
even children kneeling
in and before a ceramic
lovely-flowered cross
but no bodied wood
cold clay with dark stains
deep red swashes
and cracks showing in flesh
placed on bedroom bureaus
and family room knickknack shelves
among wishy-washy souvenirs
of the precious moments
of life before death

(reflection on another’s [Pr. L.P.] observation) 

Sunday, February 9, 2014

February 9th before 8 AM

Harvey S. Mozolak

there maple’s crimson
had congealed to brown
taking the small senseless flight
death’s drip
to mound the ground
as the fall storm stirred

at about the same place
and perhaps exactly
on a winter-bare branch
was a bright bird
two days in a row
red as a drop of life
today the third
still February freezing
the air empty
where the twigs like feathers
await returning warmth
and the leaves of light

in the thawing earth
the cardinal’s claws clasp
beak and break the worm

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Matthew four

Harvey S. Mozolak

curing every disease
and every sickness
among the people
the gospel signs
the prescription
take this One for eternity
curing every…
even well… you know…
certain things
small or swollen
gums and scalp
and can you cover lower places?
and Lord
would you look at my big toe
too and how swollen it is
these rotten sandals
sure we know leprosy
and bleeding that will not stop
dropsy whatever that is
blindness and paralysis
but cured by God
salted to last
that’s good news for…
ears that cannot hear
and hearts clogged with hate

Matthew 4. 12-23