written originally during Lent
for The Calendar Years

C maj7             C7
We set down indulgence
Fmaj7              Fm7
and pray for your restraint
Em7                A7
We give up our taking
Dm7                G7
and take away complaint

Cmaj7
I need less violence
C7
Need less slander
Fmaj7              Fm7                 C
need less of what I hate

I hand you my burden
take your tiny yoke away
I fast of earth to feast on You
I shut my mouth to pray

–/–/
-/-/-/

You fasted from Godhood
tasted manhood as a feast
You taught us of Godkind
by being mankind’s least

You were taken to heaven
left your Spirit in this place

They’ll cast down their crowns
take your name for legacy
They’ll let go of rank and blank
of all but Kingdom’s freedom

They’ll give up their sorrows
take joy across the sea

cover image by vivek jena

about the 54 poems at 27 ::

After much deliberation, I decided to keep the whole tradition of doubling my age and writing that many poems in a year. You’ll notice that April Thirtyish has already passed, so I’m late in posting. I’ve gotten about half of them written and will begin posting this week.

I started this whole mess with 46 poems written at 23, most of which are still up on the site and many of which are awful. Those poems I wrote because I read somewhere that the best age for poetry is 23. I was turning 24 and had an existential crisis.

Then I got over it.

Suddenly I was 25 and thought, “Why not do it again?” So I doubled my age and wrote 50 poems at 25. Again, most of these are still on the site and I’m proud of one or two of them.

Now I’m twenty-eight and it’s almost a principle, almost an undeniable fact of life. When the wild Lancelot is in his native habitat and his age is in an odd year, he will be secreting poetry. I do this because poetry is important, because we must take an active role in the creation of new language or else our language dies.

That means I must write, I must learn how to create better poems even if I’m awful at it — everyone must because the fate of our culture’s at stake. For me, this year, that’s 54 poems at 27.

So I’ll schedule these suckers out and give it a go. Follow along with the category 54 @ 27.

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