What Eve really thought


Bible poems

Liturgical response

Creation thrums with Being
And peals the Word — 'I am'.
We sometimes remember 
To whisper the antiphon, 'We are'.

Vivien Arnold

Food of love

'I don't give a fig', says Adam to Eve.
She is silent thinking
of the small orifice on the fruit 
a narrow passage for the fig wasp to enter; 
set down eggs; pollinate the flowery fig.
Bloom and ripen. 
She reveals none of this to Adam
who shields his manhood with a leaf from the fig;
seething at his ejection from the Garden.

Eve isn't sorry that she bit
into the temptation of the fruit; 
found its secret self.  
She never forgot that first taste 
of paradise; brought the knowledge with her
beyond the garden into the world of weeds and thorns.
Of course Adam put it about —
it was the snake's clever lies  that had beguiled her. 
She was deceived (he said). Eve knew better. 
She had bloomed. Ripened; tasted truth.

Moya Pacey

Jacob and Esau

Those twins 
wrestling inside me —
faith and doubt

so alike
so opposite

Is there a point
of equilibrium —

a place where
the sea becomes
at the bidding
of an Other?

Janette Fernando

Song of a deaf poet

When you see me all alone,
I hope you understand
that though my ears don't hear a thing
the spirit rules the man,

and the harp of David dwells in me,
his strum is my command,
though ostracised from crowded rooms,
I dance on desert sands.

Damian Balassone

An exodus of crosses

They line our country roads
triggering a fleeting pity
in a blur of wood and flowers
as we speed by —
the crosses meant to mourn loved ones
killed by machines like the ones we're sitting in.
Isn't their number increasing
to a similar degree as the number
of prayers is decreasing
and the exodus from our churches continues?

Even though the faith in the crucified
and resurrected Christ is diminishing
the waves of crosses to mourn
so many broken bodies, broken dreams
are towering higher and higher
as if the Red Sea of our helplessness
was swelling and never parting
to let a ray of hope shine through.

Frank Joussen

Gentle Jesus, meek and mild

Watch me rise!
Snickering cowards.
Obese priests.
Manicured politicians.
Oil-stained soldiers.

Watch me rise.
You who crushed me.
You who danced
while my feet were nailed.
You who drank to my health.

Watch me rise.
Watch me walk from the tomb
like a vengeful angel.
Watch my eyes.
I have come for you.

I have come for you.

Stephen Daughtry

He calls her name

he calls her name 
among the twisted olives
shadowing the tomb
sealed within grief she hears
only a stranger's kindness

Anne Benjamin

Born and raised Britain, Vivien Arnold has lived in Canberra for over 40 years. In addition to sacred poetry she writes secular and satirical poems, stories and plays and composes liturgical and theatre music.

Moya PaceyMoya Pacey's first collection of poems, The Wardrobe was published in 2009 by Ginninderra Press. Her poetry has appeared in publications such as The Canberra Times, Island, Poetrix, StudioDivan and Crux

Janette FernandoJanette Fernando is a casual relief teacher, poet and editor. Since 2007 she has been Managing Editor of Poetica Christi Press and last year co-edited Reflecting on Melbourne, a coffee table book of poetry, artwork and photography about Melbourne. 

Damian BalassoneDamian Balassone is a Melbourne poet whose work has appeared in various journals, magazines and e-zines. He is currently working on a second collection. 

Frank JoussenFrank Joussen teaches English and religious education at a German high school. He is a member of the international Catholic peace organisation Pax Christi. His poems and short stories in English have been published in print journals and ezines worldwide. 

Stephen DaughtryStephen Daughtry has worked in arts and media for many years. He occasionally finds time to indulge in words for pleasure. 

Anne BenjaminAnne Benjamin has won awards for her short stories and her educational publications and has had some poetry published. She presently works part-time as a consultant and is Adjunct Professor within the School of Leadership Australian Catholic University Strathfield. 

Topic tags: vivien arnold, moya pacey, janette fernando, damian balassone, frank joussen, stephen daughtry, benjamin



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Existing comments

Thank you to all our poets. I particularly enjoyed and found meaning in Moya Pacey's Food of Love.

Patricia Taylor | 23 November 2010  

Thank you Damian for a poem that really resonates with me. As one who is hearing impaired I often find myself alone in a crowded room among a sea of noise, and sometimes people think I'm 'a bit slow' because I can't understand what they are saying, but that doesn't mean I don't have a rich inner life.

Sandra Houghton | 24 November 2010  

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