Utility Room and Living Room

I’ve been extremely hesitant to share my poetry online; I guess mostly out of the fear that it will be stolen and published by someone else.  However, I feel like I need to share two poems that are only separated by the years in between that they were each written.  Besides this, I feel they are intricately woven into one another and if I ever do truly publish them beyond this medium, they will have to be writen alongside eachother.  Okay, enough introductions; I am sure some New Criticismists are annoyed already….

“Utility Room”   Spring 2004

I put Jesus in a box

labeled ‘Utility Room’,

and even after the move,

He’s been there for years.

Among the “As Seen On TV’

carpet cleaners and bags,

upon bags of nails, He lies.

Does Jesus ever get claustrophobic?

I never thought to ask.

I continue to forget He’s there,

trapped by duct-taped flaps.

Sometimes I remember to

take a peek, to see if He’s still there,

among the broken things I’ve

owned, the unused things I keep.

“Living Room”     Winter 2012

I took Jesus out of the box

labeled ‘Utility Room’

and moved Him to the “Living Room’.

He holds up the Fireplace,

supporting the red bricks, grey mortar, and

wood with the cross he bears.  The fire

rekindles.

I do not get claustrophobic.

In the “Living Room” He sees us

as we enter and leave,

moving to other rooms in This house.

But at the hearth, we know we’re never alone.

I like Him in the ‘Living Room’,

He endures beyond the trappings

of boxes and hardened uses.