Author: Robin Klebba
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Shalom
*A playful poem meant to highlight Mary’s youth while also honoring her maturity and faithfulness, two reasons, I believe, she was chosen to bear and love Jesus* Shalom was tiredas was I“How much farther, Joseph?”“Just a little bit,” he replied. Dear man.I’d come to learn“a little bit”was his way of managing a lot And I…
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To become soft
It’s hard to become softNot likeCleansing and perfuming fabric softenerBut likeA meat tenderizerWhich even sounds kinder than it isI try to makeThis crunchy exoskeletonFuse with an even stouter backboneAnd don armadillo armorWhich the scavengers avoid,Even stench erasedIt would be easier to stay this wayThan molt and stretchand be seenThe excess weight is identityAlbeit exhaustingA make-up…
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The Sound of You
Gravel crunch and steel toe marchTrigger the hypervigilanceI instantly recallWhat ’til now I had forgottenAnd knowI’m in for itIf only I could shrink-I’d steal the gadget for you, honey-Instead, I freeze like a deer in headlightsDoom imminentTime traveling half-speedMy breathing is too loudCuz I’ve been holding itAnd my burning lungs alerted meSo the gasps come…
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Eye in the Sky
When you’re taughtthat God is the all seeing eye in the skyas a tactic for behavior and sin modification,it first strikes the fear of hell into youand thenInspires you to get better at hiding.Yet the hiding doesn’t stop at from others,but you also have to hide from yourself.If God knows everything,you can’t let Him know…
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Homeless
I’ve been hungry for a home Since before the time I left it 18 and anchors away Permanency long before lifted No matter when I returned It always felt different Not that I overstayed my welcome But that belonging was no longer an option Floating in harbor Or miles length from shore The horizon is…
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To New
Although birth only fully happened once to me, rebirth has occurred multiple times. This blog is a way I hope to make sense and meaning out of the latest one, one centered around both body and soul. I want to explore, wrestle, question, lament, celebrate, relinquish, and bask in the now, the yesterday and the…
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Shelf-Sitting
Trauma is like sitting on a shelf Watching your life go by such hustle and bustle a triadic tug of war between anxiety, hope, and depression. Linda’s momma said it so succinctly, “No, dear, she isn’t new.” My corduroy overalls are missing a button. I almost forgot I’m broken, myself the only one buying the…