"Sunflower" 2010 Digital C-Print Jenny Meehan (available as poster print with different coloured borders), follow link: http://www.photoboxgallery.com/19507
Altar
Broken Torn apart Fired passion stands here Not empty But holding life breath Living Saying Remember me
(This was used as part of a Good Friday art installation in an Anglican Church, 2008)
Portent
perch portent figuration
a dream occurs
sometimes you must choose jewelled heart to let a part of you die
because you know if it lives
dark drape
the day will come unexpected spirit
emerge write indelible significance
fly - fall -too far
hit
cold - hard - stone
opaque haze.
Time turns it's feathered flesh to bone
and faithless spirit
dies.
(2009 Jenny Meehan)
Sacramental
Waters breaking all around me –
as when you rose – now I, like you:
In your flesh and blood, surround me;
sacred communion: Life brand new.
Though the darkness overwhelmed me –
held me cold in blackest night –
Holy Spirit, you surround me:
Through my being floods your light.
My strength, will, and purpose rising –
pulled by love’s soft gentle face.
In my heart, your image, Jesus:
Revelation of God’s grace.
(Jenny Meehan copyright 2008)
January
to merge – climb – burst forth
written forms vibrate each shoot
trees majestic stand
(Jenny Meehan copyright 2009)
Blossom and Bamboo
curved tips arching low
in stillness dips light-flecked wish
white blossom pleads pink
(Jenny Meehan copyright 2009)
When Trust Breaks
When trust breaks hope falls helpless - see her hand sign out grief bearing words with tinged finger tips
full of red rage - Oh fury!
Heave and ho! weighted breath, wordless, chest bursts outwards speechless, but shouting she searches for metaphors to place in poetry completed -
Yet, all seems to fall flat.
How those pretty pink lips wish they could say what he has done - kiss the air! she presses them tight for now, but not for later.
Rock is not so hard to break.
Watery weaknesses below the earthy crust, shift slitted solids in conflict with the sky blue and sleepy, in the middle of day, still, wide-eyed and open.
Disagreements frighten the starling birds - this girl cannot rest - her peace has flown, blown several
anger puffs - smoke signals controlled, across the surfaces. But we do not believe it.
(2010 Jenny Meehan)
Is desire empty?
Is desire empty? Does it reach into space to find nothing? Or does it have direction and point the way forward?
(Jenny Meehan 2006)
Tiny Bones
I trod on fragments of bone, homosexual, Jew and gypsy. Unknowingly desecrating precious loved ones with my soles.
A heartless, human realisation - I did not know, until the man told me,
when he spoke, my world changed.
Brokenness took a new meaning.
Even the tiniest prejudice is a terrible thing.
I took one of the splinters - pressed it into my skin
and wept.
(Jenny Meehan 2009)
Love Me
love me with a passion pierce my soul point straight to the core of my being
no hesitation not even a blink no indecision just total direction to me
meet me in a clinging knot pull tight, then spread across the whole of my life that beating heart which finds me entirely yours
(Jenny Meehan 2008)
Wire frenzy
I am a wire frenzy, I play erratically In continual motion. I cannot contain myself
But...
(limited by time which around me - surreally - lies)
The only thing making tears bearable is that I believe they matter.
They may make a difference on some level currently unknown to me.
If I believed in a God without a heart - maybe a God with a heart which was not broken - a God who did not travel with me...
Then my weeping would be pathetic.
Scraper
I watched him try to de-ice the car. Behind him, I saw a broken bus shelter. I sought it, for my own house was falling - as quickly as the snow.
He was not looking at me so quietly I slipped past - light upon my numb feet - spirit shifting slightly within my tatty soul.
The safety glass; a shimmering lake - grey concrete shone with flickering highlights - touched with warmest sunlight. Gently...
It is beautiful in it's broken state - I weep - because of the thought of its release; in one angry fistful of fired up rage; someone has made this a place for me.
I have only hot tears.
I stand, unclothed, with diamonds sparkling between my toes.
No single image appears: On my kness, I search with intent, drop my cold face, hard into the glassy earth which presses flesh grievously.
cry - that I may grow wish - for spikes piercing eyes, because I do not want to see crave - for red tears, mingling within white and glinting surfaces want - soft, pink, blossom, to open up inside.
I pray to God; dissolve the glass - and heal me.
"Scraper" Charcoal 2010
Look To The Side
Look to the side
I see your side, Saviour
Your scar meets mine holds its hand bloodied pressed felt together.
Myrrh Bears
“Tie yourself to the Tamarack Tree.”
The myrrh bears whisper.
Soft, as black breezes echo,
disguising mysterious literacy.
Though only yips and yelps now fire
rapid rustlings, through spined and knobbly spurs.
The light toys, wistful, within the dark ended day.
I’m spotted by a sable shadowed mover
at precisely the point he fixes on me,
his moon-like eye defying night.
He wears a shrouded mystery.
“Tie yourself to the Tamarack tree.”
Those echoes of vanillin sweetness;
aroma of a haunting, yet hunted, memory.
The resinous beast wears ebon furred skin,
transfers his weight, on branches of reddish-grey.
Held in his spiny madness he startles
the cavernous nest of trees.
I delve through bitter, scented places
of ululating fear, press my hands through fingered roots,
in mossy thoughts, draw near; within the ceaseless
distant barks, the cuts and bleeds cry clearer.
I lick from gummy sap, a kiss
to which my flesh adheres.
“Dark dynasties, despair, for I defeat you.
Take needled skies, heave heaven’s hopes within.”
The myrrh bears in their frenzied spirit, shake the trees
to hear the heartwood of a mortal being’s song.
Jenny Meehan 2009( Written for one of the rounds of the Literary Mary Competition).
Too Much
Pull that zip, right up too high, and over my head. Pull that cap all the way round and round; with it take my neck. Pull my jeans right down and if they're not close enough to the ground I will pull them a bit further just too much so they will worry you and make you frown.
I have taken no painkillers
Who gave me that pain?
tablet small round-red dropped through heart and head
to dwell in a flesh of soulful sleep
in body dead
potion creep
Who gave me that pain?
Three Minutes
I have three minutes to write of pain running through life.
Hide your heads you long necked birds in the sand, throwing up particles with your splayed out toes. Run fast, for your fears of sinking keep you. Let your glassed eyes
pop
from boney-headed-bullet blackness. Beaks open orange, with human shrieks.
Still... Your terror pained expression will freeze in sun so push it deep beneath the thousand grained sea.
See, it shifts below you.
Three minutes over.
Why?
All metal, emotion scribe my frown.
Heaviness you press me down.
Mark me
my words such are of silvered lead.
Ring around my crown hang my heavy head.
From heart, no rising fervour no passion fire or water flow
Only cavern, deep,
dark
and question burning so.
Foolishness
Refusal to see loss Refusal to embrace pain Refusal to see the body on the cross
It used to annoy me; that "Catholic" cross with the body still on it.
For he is risen! He is risen indeed! Keep the wood plain, and your mind totally free! Why think of that horrid time Please forget it, just leave it behind For we are all power and victory now All power and victory
Are we now so independent? So disconnected from the world?
What blessing then, do we have, in our poor state? How do we think we will relate in a Kingdom of God revealed in every part even in the wounded and damaged and bleeding hearts who among us are and ever will be?
There need be no question of allowance, No matter, to try and draw lines around the human soul, No anger, lack of understanding, or question unanswered, If in the brokenness of life, we can embrace the whole.
One day, there will be no more tears.
But for now, we must live in fullness of life.
Bold Type Face
it is wrong to push grief into rhyme
it will be too full for each rounded line
to contain
fallingstill
the motions which swell in deepest pain
familiar words, too much used, which hide the inner tear
attempts at holding in that
which needs pour
forward
in full
and unrestricted
darkness.
Prayer for the Persecuted
Many adults and children are persecuted for a variety of reasons. The degree of persecution varies, but is always painful. Because of my Christian faith, I focus my praying for the persecuted mostly on other Christians throughout the world who right at this very minute endure suffering because of their faithfulness to Christ. This is the place my own personal experiences have led me to; it is no indication of a lack of concern for others groups of people persecuted because of who they are and what they believe.
A Prayer for our persecuted brothers and sisters in Christ
Lord, we thank you for this opportunity to pray for our brothers and sisters in Christ who are experiencing various degrees of persecution because of their faith in you.
We can spend time here free of the fear that the next knock on the door may result in a journey to prison, physical and emotional pain, and many other kinds of extreme distress and suffering.
As we think about suffering we have personally endured, we reach our hands to those who suffer too in many other countries, though they are far away, we acknowledge our oneness in you.
We also acknowledge your supreme act of love on the cross; your identification with us and the bearing of all sin, for our sake.
We pray that those presently suffering for their faith, right at this moment, that they will know in their hearts of the love we have for them and this will enable their hope to shine, even in the dark times.
We pray against despair and the lies of the enemy who would try to convince those in extreme pain that you have abandoned them.
We pray for miraculous chains of events which lead, inexplicably, to the release of those held captive and we thank you for situations where that has already happened.
We pray for the more familiar routes of release, that they will incur no obstacles and disruptions, but that justice will prevail, even in the midst of corruption. We also thank you for the situations where this has already happened.
We pray for the families of those who suffer alongside them; for the growth of fellowship and relationship, and for the testimony both of action and of word that the outworking of your love in Christ brings to people.
We pray for the practical and material needs of those persecuted; that other Christians across the world will share generously both their time and money in helping those less fortunate than themselves.
We pray that we individually would listen to you and hear your heart on all we have encountered during our time of prayer and act on this in a whole hearted way.
We thank you, Our Lord God and Father, Name above all Names, King above all, for the authority we have in you, and the opportunity to use this in prayer.
We thank you for all you have done, are doing, and will continue to do, for the glory of your name. Amen.
