Pisces

I was born on the 14^th of March in 1962.

That makes me a Pisces and like a fish
I’ve been- swimming- upstream, against
a strong current of personal experience
for the greater part of this tired life.

And like a Salmon returning to the beds
from witch it was spawned,  I'm also
returning to a place called home.
Dying where it all began.

- Cameron Dockery

The Genius of Twain:

Samuel Clemens /Mark Twain died 104 years ago, but his work remains and continues to sell well. When his autobiography was published in 2010, a mere one hundred years after his death, it literally flew of the shelves as bookstores were unable to keep up with demand.

The names Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn are forever edged in the collective conscience of American literature. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn have moved beyond classic, and now enjoy more of an iconic status.

Like most iconic figures Twain is not immune to criticism. His portrayal of " Jim," and use of the "N" Word continues to be divisive. In 2011 Auburn University professor Alan Gribben adapted/censored Huck Finn for New South Books. It was an effort to present the story in a more politically correct fashion.

The purpose of this post is not to argue the in's and out's of censorship, nor the politics behind such a move. It is not for me to decide what is or is not offensive to others. Nor, is it my place to champion personal morality or lack there of. Melissa Harris-Perry addresses the material well and presents a phenomenal argument. Follow the link.

The purpose of this post is to look into the WHY and explore the How of Twains success. I am sure the opinions of critics are varied and many. Some will call on his uncanny wit and ability to circumvent. Others, attribute it to his talent, while a few call it luck and say such a feat could never again be reproduced.

I beg to differ with the latter and agree with the former. I think luck had nothing to do with it and I am positive his wit and ability to circumvent played a role and his talent was beyond question. However, these all fall short. There was something else going on.

There is a reason his work still resonates with readers and sells well for the publishers. I recently down loaded a copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. It was in the introduction where I stumbled upon his genius to connect. I will let him tell you in his own words.

"Although my book is intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and girls, I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of what they once were themselves and of how they felt and thought and talked..."

And there you have it. The genius behind Twains success and continued  status is in that he wrote children's stories that adults enjoy reading. If you are an aspiring writer searching for success and readership take notice of this simple principal: Children's stories that adults like to read. 

Mourning Spring

According to the calendar
we’re five days into spring,
but I’m not feeling it.

And the earth’s waking up
to the blossoms of buttercups,
but I’m not feeling it.

And the days are getting longer
as the morning birds sing,
but I’m not feeling it.

And the choir’s getting ready
for a Grand Celebration, but
I'm still not feeling it.

Like the Oak of early spring,
I have  nothing left to offer,
but these empty arms-

pressed against a clear blue sky.

 

-Cameron Dockery

Regret

I begin with a question
and become a decision
that weighs on the mind
and burdens the heart.

The kings and paupers of
this word know my name.
I have wrestled both and
left them in shame.

I am regret.

 

-Cameron Dockery

The Lump

I stood at your grave with a lump in my throat
hurting too much to cry, and couldn't believe
you were gone, but seven men fired twenty-
one salutes, then someone played taps.

I returned today and found new grass
breaking through the crust of an old earth.
From the blackened soil of a still fresh grave
life sprang forth as you reached up to me.

And I longed for the warmth of your embrace,
but the lump remained. I’ve learned it’s a living
thing growing like a tumor with a pulse--
beating in rhythm, with my own broken heart.

I miss you Dad.

-Cameron Dockery

How then shall we live?

Long ago and far away a carpenter from a remote village called  Nazareth turned Rabbi and delivered the greatest and most thought provoking message this world had ever heard. Nothing has since or shall ever be equal to what we in the church call The Sermon on the Mount.

He covered a lot of ground in the introduction alone. We typically and traditionally call them the Beatitudes and it is there where the Rabbi said:

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
  For theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
  For they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
  For they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
  For they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
  For they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
   For they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
  For they shall be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake,
  For theirs is the kingdom of God.

His words leave me with many questions. The first one being: How then shall we live?

(Matt.5:3-10)

Monday: By Billy Collins

The birds are in their trees,
the toast is in the toaster,
and the poets are at their windows.

They are at their windows
in every section of the tangerine of earth-
the Chinese poets looking up at the moon,
the American poets gazing out
at the pink and blue ribbons of sunrise.

The clerks are at their desks,
the miners are down in their mines,
and the poets are looking out their windows
maybe with a cigarette, a cup of tea,
and maybe a flannel shirt or bathrobe is involved.

The proofreaders are playing the ping-pong
game of proofreading,
glancing back and forth from page to page,
the chefs are dicing celery and potatoes,
and the poets are at their windows
because it is their job for which
they are paid nothing every Friday afternoon.

Which window it hardly seems to matter
though many have a favorite,
for there is always something to see-
a bird grasping a thin branch,
the headlight of a taxi rounding a corner,
those two boys in wool caps angling across the street.

The fishermen bob in their boats,
the linemen climb their round poles,
the barbers wait by their mirrors and chairs,
and the poets continue to stare
at the cracked birdbath or a limb knocked down by the wind.

By now, it should go without saying
that what the oven is to the baker
and the berry-stained blouse to the dry cleaner,
so the window is to the poet.

Just think-
before the invention of the window,
the poets would have had to put on a jacket
and a winter hat to go outside
or remain indoors with only a wall to stare at.

And when I say a wall,
I do not mean a wall with striped wallpaper
and a sketch of a cow in a frame.

I mean a cold wall of fieldstones,
the wall of the medieval sonnet,
the original woman's heart of stone,
the stone caught in the throat of her poet-lover.

- Billy Collins


I turned 52 last Friday and on Saturday my wife and I spent the day together in a neighboring town. It was no surprise that we landed in a bookstore browsing. When she asked me what I would like for my birthday I quickly responded, for starters, something from Billy Collins.

If Robert Frost was the poet of the twentieth century I think Collins is the poet of this century. Like Frost, he uses simple words and plan speech to convey deep meaning. He moves me.

It is Monday and I got up at 5:00 this morning and though it's still dark outside,  I'm "looking out the window," waiting for the sun to rise and wondering what new hope this day may bring.

Forgivness: It's the heart of the matter.

Don Henley recorded and released, The Heart of the Matter, during his solo career a number of years ago. It was after another one of those nasty break ups for which The Eagles were known and are now remembered. If you recall, there was this haunting repetition with the group that went something like this: They would get together, record an album, go on tour and then break up. Only to repeat the process in a few years.

Perhaps you recall the Hell Freezes Over concert and tour. It was called Hell Freezes Over because that was the response given when someone asked the group, "When do you think you'll get together again?"

I was listening to an interview with Don Henley following the Out of Eden Album and he was asked, "So, how are you guys getting along together these days?" Don smiled and said, "Oh, about the same way we always have." Then he went on to say, "When you have that much talent and creativity in a room it presents problems." It was like everyone comes with their own idea and direction and it was only a matter of time before a spark would ignite an explosion. That was a common denominator with a lot of groups and bands. It continues to this day. It's the nature of the beast and comes with the territory.

I think it's interesting that it was during on of the many breakups and while Henley had some time away from the group and a little space that he and David Sauder wrote and produced one of the most beautiful singles Henley ever recorded. To think a song about forgiveness was actually included in the Hell Freezes over tour suggest perhaps a few others may have gotten the message. Just saying.

At best it is only speculative, but I  wonder if Henley & Sauder thought and talked over all those wars the group had experienced and finally got to...The Heart of the Matter. At the end of the day, the song says, it's all about forgiveness.

I am a pastor and forgiveness is weighing heavy on my mind these days. I've learned that the act of forgiveness is central to the Gospel message. Unfortunately we have preached the message of forgiveness in the church, but as the church, we have had a hard time walking it out in our faith.

I am convinced forgiveness is so central that it becomes...The key which unlocks the door, the hinge from which the whole thing swings and the glue that holds it all together.

You read about forgiveness in The Lords prayer, "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." In Matthew 18 Peter comes to Jesus with a question about forgiveness..

"Then Peter came and said to Him, 'Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven. "     (Matt.18;21 & 22)

When he ask," how many times shall I forgive my brother." It's a question that tells us 1. Peter had reason to be offended and 2. He was offended by a "Brother." The Brother could have been his biological sibling, or another family member, or possibly a close friend.

Whoever the offending party was is not relevant to the story.  Peter was asking, "How do I handle it when someone I know and love disappoints me." Every indication is that Peter already knew forgiveness was a central element. He even goes as far as to inquire about the number of times a man should be forgiven.

Jesus responds in a typical fashion by suggesting 7 X 70 is not too often. While it's true that Jesus often spoke in hyperbole, it's also true, that when we forgive as we have been forgiven, we give up all rights to keeping a record and tally.

On the day Jesus gave his life as a ransom for the hearts of mankind he showed us what true forgiveness looks like. After he was rejected, betrayed, beaten and crucified he drew a deep breath and from a rugged cross whispered, "Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do."

I'm not climbing up on a soap box and preaching to anyone. I realize some will read this and agree, and others will not. Some will not even finish reading this post before dismissing the thought and surfing on to the next article. A few will consider me a religious fanatic and call me a Jesus freak.

However, most of us have this in common. We have all been in a position of giving and receiving forgiveness. The need and neglect of forgiveness shows up in every parent/child relationship. Marriage's suffer and churches split for the lack of it.

And with that I have a question: Would you please allow me to get something off my chest? It is 1:17 (am) and I am having a hard time finding sleep. I turn 52 years old today and I have served as a pastor for 30 years and as I said, forgiveness is weighing heavy on my mind. So, before I close my eyes I need to share, if over the years you have been hurt, or wounded by me, or if you've had reason to be disappointed  with me, I'm asking you to ..."Please forgive me."

www.camdockery.com

The Gift of Poetry.

Poetry has been around for a very long time. In fact, there has never been a civilization that did not possess it. And though its and ancient art, something about poetry remains fresh and new.

Like, when the morning dew lying fresh on a meadow reaches into the old growth forest, so poetry, while moving forward,  looks back and into the past, reflecting the human condition.

It can be refined and elegant, but also raw and earthy. Poetry is studied and dissected in the elite halls of academia and recited by children in grade school, while skipping rope on the playground.

I am 52 years old and one day, when I grow up, I want to be a poet. A mincer of words whose verse captivates your heart, interrupts your life and speaks to your soul.

Robert Frost pulled me in and I’ve never recovered. Since that time, there have been others.  Longfellow, Milosz, Hirsch and Billy Collins to name a few.  Yet, the 23^rd psalm was written over three thousand years ago and transcends them all.

Yes, when I grow up, I want to be a poet. But, if before I make it they should lay me to rest, please grant this wannabe one final request. Carve on my stone, “He Died Trying."


www.camdockery.com

email:cam@camdockery.com