John Schwartz Poetry

Just prior to heading into the worship center on my 57th ex utero Easter, the phrase “You can’t keep a good man down” came to mind, and it was such a good Easter thought I had to write about it.

(For a representative, though not nearly as fun as the “Optimus Klein” ones out there, video about my Collin Klein line, see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=huGlIOaHT7I — and I do love that he himself would thrill to the content of this poem.)

HE IS RISEN. So much joy!

Though I am only 56–so technically not “old” yet I suppose–I am also not young and many things in my life and body testify accordingly. I had a dream where I was reminded of young spry days and it was sad and nostalgic and I don’t know what all else, and this poem came out as a way to cope. Pretty much any strong emotion in my life tries to go to (and stay in) overwhelm/despair, which is rather annoying LOL. I truly have been learning practically how to return to joy from my strong emotions, which has been a huge blessing for me and those around me. Anyway, this isn’t probably a masterpiece but the subject is important…. learning to have joy even as “outwardly we [I] waste away.” (The title of the poem, as well as the italicized bit at the end, are from 1 Corinthians 4.)

I like this one. I like it for me/the usual things writing poems does for me. (Helps me not get stuck, allows for intuitive/inspired/creative jumps in understanding, makes unexpected connections, the joy of creativity, etc.)

But I also potentially like this one for you … I’m curious how people who read it engage with it. What question drives you?

Don’t read this italicized portion if you want to read the poem “cold” (or read it after you’ve thought about it) … but I do know that there are a whole bunch of things that could be said about this poem that might help parts of it be less cryptic. So here are a couple:

1. The question in the movie was “What is the Matrix?” The question I had in mind in the second stanza was “Will you trust Me?” (asked by God). The implicit question at the end of the poem is “What’s yours?” (Hence me posting this particular poem and writing what I wrote above!)
2. The “daughters of Jerusalem” are a reference to the three-fold chorus in Song of Songs urging them not to awaken love until it so desires.

May today be filled with wonder, joy, and deepening experiential knowledge of the real depths of the world we truly are made for–and live in the midst of. And I’d love to hear how any of you engage with this — I’m at john@ichthusmhk.org!

What is identity?
How do being and doing relate?
And how does sin play in? Are we sinners–saints–both?
And so on.

Thanks for reading. Your thoughts on all these questions (above and in the poem) or anything else that stands out to you are welcome–john@ichthusmhk.org!

(Oh, and yes, the title is a shout out to a song I find very poignant by one Mr. Kid Rock.)

Do you know that life is far more than it seems and feels and tells? That our senses alone don’t really give us vision into the real world?

Well, it is. And they don’t. And I believe on the deepest level you know this just like I do.

Wrote this one after a page-turning-stay-up-too-late-reading night turned into a finish-the-story-when-I-really-should-be-doing-something-else which turned into one of those thin-veil moments that art and beauty and such bring.

Wrote this one yesterday. There’s a backstory but I’m not sure it will be helpful for your engagement. You can email me at john@ichthusmhk.org if you want it. But I just enjoyed writing it and the accompanying gratitude and joy with the topic.

My grandpa (my mom’s dad, Fredrick Schramm) was a character. I was his first and favorite (haha not really, but our relationship was definitely special) grandson, probably the man I felt the safest with, and I dearly loved him. This one’s about him and a driving lesson by an old roadside park east of Winner, South Dakota. And (as always) it’s about much more than that as well.

This is the second poem I’ve posted with Grandpa in it, see here for the other one!

I tend to be a person who sees what is lacking and wrong or needing improvement. That’s particularly true when it comes to me and my life, to the point where regret becomes so painful it (quite ironically, hello negative cycle) hinders my living in love, joy, and peace in the present moment.

God and I are always talking about this, where I’m always telling him he should be frustrated with me and he reminds me who wears the God pants in this relationship and that perhaps I ought to adopt his point of view…. looking at and celebrating the remarkable work he HAS done in and through me.

Our brains are made for and genuinely thrive in the full life I long for in JOY, not critical negativity and judgment.

So this one’s about that, with driving the metaphor for life and God as my instructor. Maybe it’ll help some of you fierce-inner-critickers out there.

One of the very enjoyable things about writing poetry is that it flows–like there’s this stream that sometimes seems like I’m more listening and writing it down than actually writing it myself. Usually I’m a little (or a lot) more involved than only doing that, but sometimes I write what I have in my mind without a whole lot of worrying about if it connects or goes with a conscious idea or anything. This is one of those. See if it hits you, gets you, you get it, etc…. and feel free to let me know at john@ichthusmhk.org! (I did ask ChatGPT about what it thought of it, which is always interesting.)

I was reading Michael John Cusick’s Sacred Attachment yesterday and he was talking about the eyes of the heart in his chapter on imagination. Sparked this poem. I like it. Hope you do too!

AS YOURSELF
the heart has eyes
does it have a face
does it wear a frown
or a smile embrace
oh wellspring deep
are you counting sheep
if you shed your clothes
yes the price is steep
still what would one give
for a child alive
he’s inside my chest
she was born to thrive

As always, would LOVE to hear any thoughts, question, impact, etc., at john@ichthusmhk.org!